#Why no I don't have shame thanks for asking
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Something Wicked | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, implications of verbal parental abuse
Word Count: 4885
Series Rewrite Masterlist
The two boys were bickering over coordinates Dean had received from an anonymous number.
“Dude, I ran LexisNexis, local police reports, newspapers, I couldn't find a single red flag. Are you sure you got the coordinates right?” Sam asked.
“Yeah, I double checked. It's Fitchburg, Wisconsin. Dad wouldn't have sent us coordinates if it wasn't important, Sammy.”
“Well, I'm telling you, I looked, and all I could find was a big steamy pile of nothing. If Dad's sending us hunting for something, I don't know what.”
“Well, maybe he's going to meet us there.”
“Yeah. ‘Cause he's been so easy to find up to this point.”
You sighed. You weren’t about to get in the middle of this argument and tuned the rest of it out. Alas, Dean won the argument, as he often did.
You stopped for some coffee along Fitchburg’s main street. The town itself was small, but it was quaint. A little too Middle America for your taste.
“Well… the waitress thinks the local freemasons are up to something sneaky, but other than that, no one's heard about anything freaky going on,” Dean sighed, handing you and Sam your respective coffee orders.
“Dean, you got the time?” you asked him.
“Ten after four. Why?”
You nodded in front of you at the playground you were looking at. “What's wrong with this picture?”
It was deserted aside from one child climbing on the jungle gym.
“School's out, isn't it?” Dean questioned.
“Yeah. So where is everybody?” Sam added. “This place should be crawling with kids right now.”
You and the Winchesters walked over to a woman on a park bench reading a magazine. Dean approached her, saying, “Sure is quiet out here.”
The woman sighed, “Yeah, it’s a shame.”
“Why's that?”
“You know, kids getting sick, it's a terrible thing.”
“How many?”
“Just five or six but serious, hospital serious. A lot of parents are getting pretty anxious. They think it's catching,” she explained.
All four of you watched the little girl playing by herself, and the wheels in your head began to turn. Why would John send you all the way to Fitchburg over a few sick kids?
The three of you made your way up to the pediatrics ward of the hospital to investigate the sick children. Dean and Sam donned suits, and you wore a pencil skirt and heels. You couldn’t lie to yourself, Dean looked amazing in his suit, but you much preferred his usual leather jacket and biker boots.
“See something you like?” Dean smirked at you.
Your mouth opened and closed, unsure of what to say. He just snickered in response while your cheeks burned.
A doctor approached you and the boys before Dean could taunt you any further. You introduced yourselves and headed down the corridor with the man. “Well, thanks for seeing us, Dr. Hydecker,” Dean said.
“Well, I'm glad you guys are here. I was just about to call CDC myself. How'd you find out anyways?” the doctor asked.
“Oh, some GP— I forget his name— he called Atlanta, and, uh, he must've beat you to the punch,” Dean lied.
“So you say you got six cases so far?” you asked.
“Yeah, five weeks. At first we thought it was garden variety bacterial pneumonia. Not that newsworthy. But now…”
“What?”
“The kids aren't responding to antibiotics. Their white cell counts keep going down. Their immune systems just aren't doing their job. It's like their bodies are... wearing out.”
“Wait, but are there any signs of leukopenia?” you asked. “Any history in these kids of that?”
Dean looked over at you, confused by what you were saying. You continued to talk to the doctor.
“No, actually,” Hydecker answered.
“What about neutropenia?”
He shook his head as a nurse handed him a clipboard full of papers.
“Then, whatever this is would have to be attacking the bone marrow as well as the respiratory system… Have you done biopsies?”
“No, we haven’t,” Hydecker answered. “I’ll give that a try.”
“You ever seen anything like this before?” Sam questioned.
“Never this severe,” the doctor said. “And the way it spreads… that's a new one for me.”
“What do you mean?” asked Sam.
“It works its way through families. But only the children, one sibling after another.”
“You mind if we interview a few of the kids?” Dean questioned.
“They’re not conscious,” the doctor replied.
You were shocked. “None of them?”
“No.”
“Can we, uh, can we talk to the parents?” tried Dean.
“Well, if you think it'll help.”
“Yeah. Who was your most recent admission?”
Hydecker directed you to a man sitting on a chair against the wall in the waiting room. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. He explained to you the oldest girl was first, and then his youngest. He told you that her window had been opened, but there was no one who could’ve done so except for his daughter because her room was on the second floor.
You and the boys headed out of the pediatrics ward and back toward the car.
“(Y/N), how’d you know all that stuff?” Sam asked you, referencing your conversation with the doctor.
“I like to read,” you shrugged. Sam smiled at your response and walked a little ahead of you.
Dean came up next to you. “You were really serious about nursing, huh,” he said softly enough so Sam wouldn’t hear.
“I guess. I really do just like to read, though,” you smiled. “I think I just wanted to stick it to my dad. I always thought I’d be happier not hunting. But, uh, I just don’t think I could ever go back to being ‘normal’.”
“Yeah, I get that,” he responded.
Sam turned back to you and his brother. “You know, this might not be anything supernatural. It might just be pneumonia.”
“No way,” you shook your head, “pneumonia wouldn’t be lowering white blood cell count. It’d have to be elevated for it to be true pneumonia. Infection and all that.”
Sam hummed. “Okay, so then what’s your theory?”
“Honestly? Not sure.”
“I'll tell you one thing,” said Sam. “That dad we just talked to? I'm betting it'll be a while before he goes home.”
***
“You got anything over there?” Sam asked Dean. The three of you had climbed through the home of the last two kids who had gotten sick looking for clues.
“Nah, nothing,” the older brother answered.
“Yeah, me neither,” you chimed in. You moved over to the window and paused. “Hey guys? I really don’t think it’s pneumonia.”
The boys came over and followed your line of sight to a rotted handprint with long, tendril-like fingers.
“What the hell leaves a handprint like that?” Sam asked.
Dean seemed to get pulled away into his own mind for a moment before he began to look a little sick. “I know why Dad sent us here. He's faced this thing before. He wants us to finish the job.”
Dean raced down the stairs to the window on the back of the house you’d climbed through. You followed him close behind. You would ask him what had happened to him in the little girl’s bedroom later.
Dean explained to you on the ride to the motel what he thought you were hunting: a shtriga.
“So what the hell is a shtriga?” Sam asked as Dean pulled into a motel parking lot. This motel was a little cuter than the ones you’d visited previously; centered around a white cabin with green shingles.
“It's kinda like a witch, I think. I don't know much about 'em,” explained Dean.
“Well, I've never heard of it. And it's not in Dad's journal.”
“Dad hunted one in Fort Douglas, Wisconsin, about sixteen, seventeen years ago. You were there. You don't remember?”
Sam shook his head.
“And I guess he caught wind of the things in Fitchburg now and kicked us the coordinates,” Dean went on.
“So wait, this…” Sam paused, waiting for Dean to remind him how to pronounce it.
“Shtriga.”
“Right. You think it's the same one Dad hunted before?”
“Yeah, maybe.”
“But if Dad went after it, why is it still breathing air?” Sam’s brows furrowed together.
“ ‘Cause it got away.”
Sam scoffed. “Got away?”
Dean was beginning to get frustrated, and you knew it was a cover-up for whatever was going on inside his head. “Yeah, Sammy, it happens.”
“Not very often.”
“Well, I don't know what to tell ya, maybe Dad didn't have his wheaties that morning,” snarked the older brother.
“What else do you remember?”
“Nothin'. I was a kid, alright?” Dean said defensively. You followed him into the motel lobby only to see a little boy watching TV in one room and a boy around ten or eleven walking out of it.
“A king or two queens?” The boy asked, looking between you and Dean.
“Two queens,” you and Dean answered quickly. “And one king, actually,” you added, stepping aside to reveal Sam behind you.
A woman entered smiling at you both. “Checking in?”
You nodded to her.
“Do me a favor, go get your brother some dinner,” the woman instructed the boy.
“I'm helping a guest!” he protested, but turned away under his mother’s hard stare. “Two queens. And a king.”
“Will that be cash or credit?” she asked you.
Dean took out his card. “You take MasterCard? Perfect. Here you go.”
You watched him look behind the woman at the boy pouring his younger brother a glass of milk. And there he went again; pulled into what you could only assume was memories of himself and Sam.
The woman before you held out his card to zoned-out Dean, and you took it from her instead. “Uh, thanks.” She handed you the keys, and you nudged Dean to bring him back to reality.
***
Dean explained to you and Sam what shtrigas fed off: children, most commonly. The only thing that could kill them were specially designed wrought-iron rounds while the thing was feeding. They often take the form of something unsuspecting; like an old woman.
“Hang on,” Dean said. “Check this out. I marked down all the addresses of the victims. Now these are the houses that have been hit so far and dead center?”
“The hospital,” you noted.
“Now, when we were there, I saw a patient; an old woman,” Dean continued.
“An old person huh?” questioned Sam. “In a hospital? Phew. Better call the Coast Guard.”
You giggled at Sam.
“Well, listen, smart-asses, she had an inverted cross hanging on her wall.”
You and Sam stopped snickering and looked up at Dean. He raised an eyebrow at you.
And so, you headed to the hospital. Fortunately for her— but unfortunately for your hunt— the old woman with the upside down cross on the wall was just cataract-ridden and crotchety. Upon your return to the motel after thoroughly freaking out the old woman, you pulled Dean to your motel room for a talk before bed.
“What’s up?” he asked, sitting on a chair in your room.
You sat on the bed across from him. “Where do you keep going?” you asked.
“Huh?”
“Sorry, I just realized how stupid that sounded. You keep, like, disappearing into your own brain,” you responded. “Like in the motel lobby. You zoned out looking at that kid and his brother.”
“Oh, that,” he said quietly. “I, uh, it’s stupid.”
“Dean,” you leaned over your crossed legs and rested your hand on his knee. “I’m asking you. It’s not stupid. I just care.”
“Oh, come on—”
“Dean,” you said. “You made me a pinky promise at that scary asylum. You promised you’d tell me. Please?”
He huffed out a small laugh. “You know how I said my dad hunted this thing before?”
You nodded.
“Well, I’m the reason it got away.”
“How? Didn’t you say it was sixteen, seventeen years ago? You would’ve been ten, dude,” you responded.
“Yeah, but it’s complicated. My dad left us alone in motel rooms all the time. He made me repeat to him what I was and wasn’t supposed to do every time he would go out on a hunt. Sam and I would fight over the last bowl of Lucky Charms from the groceries Dad got us for the week; y'know, stupid kid stuff,” he chuckled. “But it’d been days. I was climbin’ the walls, (Y/N). I had to get some air. I went to an arcade to just… blow off some steam, I guess.
"When I came back, the thing was over Sammy’s bed. I was frozen. My dad came in and shot it a couple times, but it got away. Dad just... grabbed us and booked. Dropped us off at Pastor Jim's about three hours away, but by the time he got back to Fort Douglas, the shtriga had disappeared; it was just gone. It never surfaced until now. Y'know, Dad never spoke about it again, I didn't ask." He looked away from you attempting to swallow his emotions. "But he, ah, he looked at me different, you know? Which was worse. Not that I blame him. He gave me an order, and I didn't listen; I almost got Sammy killed.”
“Dee, you were a kid,” you said softly. He went to cut you off, but you stopped him. “No, let me talk. I know how that feels. My parents left me with Stevie all the time. I would've done the same thing you did. We were kids. We had to take on parental responsibilities. Anybody would be going stir crazy, especially at ten years old like you were.”
“(Y/N)—”
“No,” you told him, grabbing his hand. “You cannot blame yourself. I won’t let you. Would you let me?”
He shook his head.
“Exactly.”
He held your intense stare and rubbed a thumb over your hand. The two of you awkwardly pulled away from each other, and Dean cleared his throat. “Uh, thank you, for, y’know—”
“Yeah, any time,” you said, walking him to the door.
***
The next morning, you and Sam were teasing Dean about the old woman from the hospital the night before. You were headed to the car to go get some breakfast.
“ ‘I was sleeping with my peepers open’?” Sam laughed heartily, remembering the old woman's strange way of talking.
“I almost smoked that old girl, I swear. It's not funny!” Dean grunted.
“Oh man, you shoulda seen your face,” you giggled.
“Yeah, laugh it up. Now we're back to square one.” He looked over to the ten-year-old blond boy sitting on the bench behind his mother’s office. “Hang on.” He led you over to the child. “Hey, what's wrong?”
“My brother's sick,” he replied.
“The little guy?”
He nodded. “Pneumonia. He's in the hospital. It's my fault.”
“Ah, c'mon, how?” You could tell Dean’s mind was racing just based on his tone.
“I should’ve made sure the window was latched. He wouldn't've got pneumonia if the window was latched,” the boy lamented.
You watched, frowningly thoughtfully, as Dean looked away from the boy.
“Listen to me. I can promise you that this is not your fault. Okay?” Dean assured him.
“It's my job to look after him,” the boy frowned, tearing up.
His mother hurried out of the motel toward her minivan. “Michael, I want you to turn on the 'no vacancy' sign while I'm gone. I've got Denise covering room service, so don't bother with any of the rooms.”
“I'm going with you,” he protested.
“Not now, Michael.”
“But I gotta see Asher!”
Dean responded before his mother could. “Hey, Michael. Hey. I know how you feel— I'm a big brother, too— but you gotta go easy on your mom right now, ok?”
His mom dropped her handbag in haste, cursing under her breath. You rushed to pick it up for her.
“Listen, you're in no condition to drive. Why don't you let me give you a lift to the hospital,” Dean offered.
“No, I couldn't possibly—” she answered.
“No, it's no trouble. I insist.”
Michael’s mother handed Dean the keys and thanked him before addressing her son. “Be good.”
Dean turned to you before he went over to the car. “We're gonna kill this thing. I want it dead, you hear me?”
You and Sam watched Dean pull out of the motel parking lot, driving much more carefully than he ever did when you and Sam were in the car.
“C’mon,” you said. “You got the keys?”
“Yeah,” he threw them to you. “Where we goin’?”
“Wait, you’re letting me drive?” you asked Sam.
He shrugged.
You squealed childishly and jumped into the driver’s seat. You couldn’t lie, you loved this car. You loved how the steering wheel felt in your hands and the way the engine rumbled.
“Seriously, where we going?”
“The library,” you answered. “Town records, national records, internet, anything and everything. Dean wants this thing dead, and I intend to get it done tonight. And I gotta tell you, dude, something’s really bothering me about this whole thing. I mean, I never even formally went to nursing school, but I knew it couldn’t be pneumonia immediately. Why would pediatric doctors be unable to figure that out?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know, but I get you. Something isn’t right.”
***
You and Sam poured through as many books you possibly could as quickly as you could. Sam was at his computer, scrolling with a furrowed brow when his phone rang. “ Hey. How's the kid?... We’re at the library. We've been trying to find out as much as we can about this shtriga… Well, bad news. I started with Fort Douglas around the time you said Dad was there?... Same deal.
"Before that, there was, uh, Ogdenville, before that, North Haverbrook, and Brockway. Every 15 to 20 years, it hits a new town. Dean, this thing is just getting started in Fitzburgh. In all these other places, it goes on for months. Dozens of kids before the shtriga finally moves on. The kids just languish in comas, and then they die… Ah, I don't know. The earliest mention I could find is this place called ‘Black River Falls’ back in the 1890s. Talk about a horror show.”
Your brain began to make connections between all of those events. “Wait, Sam, put Dean on speaker.”
He did so.
“Okay, you’re gonna have to stay with me on this one. This could just be me spitballin’, but—”
“Just say it, (Y/N),” Dean said through the phone.
“I’ve been thinking, why wouldn’t Hydecker immediately rule out pneumonia? If he’s such a spectacular and caring doctor, why wouldn’t he know that pneumonia ups your white blood cell count; not depletes it? And the chance of all six kids having a pre-existing condition that lowers your WBC is incredibly low. I mean, why else wouldn’t he biopsy the kids?”
“Okay, WebMD, what does that have to do with anything?” Dean asked.
“I told you to stay with me.” You began typing in your computer searching for articles on the earliest case Sam had found in Black River Falls. “The point is, I think Hydecker’s our guy. Think about it— the center of the kidnappings is the hospital. And any pediatric doctor would be familiar with what pneumonia actually does to a kid’s body.” You smiled sourly at a photo you pulled up of doctors surrounding a child’s bed in 1893. You turned the computer around to Sam. “Boom.”
“(Y/N), that is huge.” He leaned over and lightly punched your shoulder. “Good going.”
“Thanks!” you grinned. “Dean, meet us back at the motel. Don’t deck the guy in the face, please. Not yet, anyway.”
“No promises,” he grumbled.
“Dean—”
“Fine.” He hung up the phone.
“Alright, we gotta get back before Dean explodes,” you told Sam. “Can I drive again?”
“Sure, why not. Just don’t tell my brother.” He tossed you the keys and you giggled.
***
“We should have thought of this before. A doctor's a perfect disguise. You're trusted, you can control the whole thing,” Sam said.
You and the brothers were back in the motel room.
Dean threw off his jacket and paced agitatedly. “That son of a bitch.”
“I'm proud of you for not drawing on him right there,” you said.
“Yeah, well, first of all, I'm not going to open fire in a freakin' pediatrics ward.”
Sam nodded. “Good call.”
“Second, wouldn't have done any good, because the bastard's bullet proof unless he's chowing down on something. And third, I wasn't packing, which is probably a really good thing, ‘cause I probably would've just burned a clip in him on principle alone.”
Despite the situation, you found Dean aggressively grumbling about guns very attractive.
“You're getting wise in your old age, Dean,” Sam quipped.
“Damn right. 'Cause now I know how we're going to get it,” replied Dean.
“What do you mean?” you asked.
“Shtriga works through siblings, right?”
You knew what he was getting at. “No, Dean, I don’t like that.”
“What?” Sam asked, clearly not picking up where you and Dean were at.
“(Y/N)—”
“No, dude, we gotta get Michael out of here. I’m not letting you use him as bait.”
“Dean, what?! That’s out of the question!” Sam protested.
“It's not out of the question, Sam, it's the only way. If this thing disappears it could be years before we get another chance.”
“Michael's a kid. And I'm not going to dangle him in front of that thing like a worm on a hook,” Sam scoffed.
“Dad did not send me here to walk away.” Dean turned away from you and Sam and gripped the edges of the dresser.
“Send you here? He didn't send you here; he sent us here,” Sam replied.
“This isn't about you, Sam. I'm the one who screwed up, all right. It's my fault. There's no telling how many kids have gotten hurt because of me.”
“What are you saying, Dean? How is it your fault?” Sam paused, taking a moment to calm down. “Dean. You've been hiding something from the get-go. Since when does Dad bail on a hunt? Since when does he let something get away? Now talk to me, man. Tell me what's going on.”
Dean proceeded to explain what he had to you last night. Sam gave him the same lecture about how it wasn’t his fault, but Dean began to protest again. “Don't. Don't. Dad knew this was unfinished business for me. He sent me here to finish it.”
You were surprised at the tough facade he gave his brother in contrast to the way he was vulnerable with you.
“But using Michael— I don't know Dean. I mean, how 'bout one of us hides under the covers, you know, we'll be the bait,” Sam tried.
“No, it won't work. It's gotta get close enough to feed— it'll see us. Believe me, I don't like it, but it's gotta be the kid.”
***
Michael was completely against the idea and even threatened to call the cops on you. You and the boys returned to their motel room dejectedly.
“Well, that went crappy. Now what?” Dean groaned.
“What did you expect? You can't ask an adult to do something like that, much less a kid,” the younger brother sighed.
There was a knock at the door, and you opened it to reveal Michael.
“Hey,” you said, surprised.
“If you kill it, will Asher get better?”
“Honestly? We don't know,” Dean told him.
“You said you were a big brother,” Michael started, “You'd take care of your little brother? You'd do anything for him?”
“Yeah, I would,” Dean replied quietly. Your heart swelled at how much Dean and Sam cared for each other.
The young boy nodded. “Me, too. I'll help.”
Dean had hooked up a security camera to the boy’s room, and you and he watched the monitor closely. You were beginning to feel cross-eyed from how tired you were. It was around three in the morning, and your body protested against your will to stay awake.
“You sure these iron rounds are gonna work?” Sam asked his brother.
“Consecrated iron rounds, and yeah, it's what Dad used last time.”
“Hey, Dean? I’m sorry,” the younger brother said softly. “You know, I've really given you a lot of crap, for always following Dad's orders. But I know why you do it.”
“Oh, god, kill me now,” Dean groaned.
You giggled to yourself, eyes returning to the screen. “Dean, look.”
There was a bit of movement off to the right of the screen outside of the window. You and the boys picked up your guns, holding them tightly and waiting for the right moment.
“Now?” you asked.
“Not yet.”
The shtriga moved closer and leaned over the bed. You could see Michael tense under the covers and draw them closer to himself. The creature leaned over the bed, pushing the covers down.
“Now?!”
“Now.”
You and the boys burst through the door and began to shoot the creature after Michael rolled away. It flew off Michael’s bed and fell to the side you couldn’t see.
“Mike, you alright?” Dean asked the kid.
“Yeah,” came his muffled reply from under the bed.
“Just sit tight.” Dean approached the shtriga, his gun at the ready. There was no movement for just a moment, before the shtriga shot up and grabbed Dean by his throat, throwing him across the room.
“Dean!” you cried, trying to run to him. The shtriga threw you to the side against Michael’s bed. Your back protested as you tried to roll and grab your gun that had fallen out of your hand in the chaos. You noticed the shtriga leaning over the top of the younger Winchester. Sam’s body went limp and began to go gray as the shtriga began to suck out his life force.
“Hey!” Dean gruffly spat. The shtriga turned to the older brother just to get shot straight between the eyes.
“Nice!” you said. You rushed to Sam’s side and smoothed a hand over his messy hair while he tried to catch his breath. “Are you okay?”
He nodded. “Thanks.”
“You okay, little brother?” Dean called from behind you. You thought it was adorable how much he cared.
You and Sam stood and you tried to help hold the tall man up on his unsteady legs. You guided him over to the shtriga, and Dean shot it three times at point-blank range. The shtriga’s body fell in on itself, disintegrating.
You looked up at Dean, whose face was still set in hard lines.
“It's okay, Michael, you can come on out,” Dean told the boy peeking out from under his bed. He rose to stand beside you, smiling tentatively. Dean put a hand on the boy’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. You looked on, feeling your heart swell at what you knew was a full-circle moment for Dean. You knew these moments were few and far-between in a profession like yours, and you had learned to savor them in your memory.
***
You and the brothers returned to your rooms to pack now that the monster was dead. As usual, you were finished packing before the boys were and leaned against the Impala waiting for them.
You watched Michael’s mom’s car pull up in the motel parking lot. At that moment, the boys came out to join you.
“Hey, Joanna. How's Asher doing?” Dean asked the mother of the two boys.
“Have you seen Michael?” she asked him.
“Mom! Mom!” the child in question ran up and hugged him. “How's Ash?”
“Got some good news. Your brother's gonna be fine,” she smiled down at the boy.
“Really?” Michael grinned.
“Yeah. Really. No one can explain it; it's a miracle. They're going to keep him overnight for observation, and then, he's coming home.”
You smiled as Sam asked, “How are all the other kids doing?”
“Good. Real good. A bunch of them should be checking out in a few days. Dr. Travis says the ward's going to be like a ghost town,” she explained.
“Dr. Travis? What about Dr. Hydecker?” you asked.
“Oh, he wasn't in today. Must have been sick or something.”
You shot a knowing look to the boys.
“So, did anything happen while I was gone?” Joanna asked her son.
The boy looked to Dean before responding, “Nah, same old stuff.”
“Okay.” Joanna smoothed a hand over Michael’s blonde hair. “You can go see Ash.”
A wide grin spread across the boy’s face. “Now?!”
She nodded at her son, who ran into the car. “I, ah, I'd better get going before he hotwires the car and drives himself,” she told you and the boys. The three of you watched as Joanna’s car pulled out of the parking lot. Sam and Dean turned to you and placed their bags in the trunk next to yours.
“It's too bad,” said Sam.
“Oh, they’ll be fine,” you assured him.
“That's not what I meant,” he shook his head. “I meant Michael. He'll always know there are things out there in the dark— he'll never be the same, you know?” He paused. “Sometimes I wish that....”
“What?” Dean questioned.
“I wish I could have that kinda innocence.”
Dean walked to the driver’s side door. He leaned on the roof of the car and said, “If it means anything, sometimes I wish you could too.”
Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @davina-clairee @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @stephshaww @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @here-for-the-extravaganza @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @rei0812 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @more-espresso-less-depresso-og @mysticmyth @favoritefandoms27 @star-yawnznn
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#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x y/n#dean winchester x you#dean x reader#dean x y/n#dean x you#dean winchester#supernatural#spn#supernatural series rewrite#spn series rewrite
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Its my first time putting a request so I'll try to sum it up!!
Could you make a bangchan x f!reader? Where yn and Chan have been trying for a child for abt 2 years they've had 3 or 4 miscarriages and after a long time, they have 2 beautiful twins!! (You don't have to do it if you don't want to!! Your health comes first 💗)
OMG ilysm for this. Thank you for being my first request, and thank you for trusting me to be your first request! Before I go any further, though, I want to touch on a few things with this one. First off: this is a very real thing that doesn’t get talked about enough . Miscarriages happen and there is no shame. If you have ever lost a baby before, please know that you are stronger than you think, and that you did nothing to deserve such a loss. Secondly: this is a major fear of mine. I want nothing more than to be a mother. I have had three moms throughout my life and I want to be able to give someone the love and protection the first two didn’t give me. I’m also the mom friend so yeah lmao. Finally, to all the moms out there, or those who would have been moms if not for this loss: thank you for all you do. You deserve more than what you have because you truly do the most unappreciated task in the world. You bring children into the world and give them life, regardless of if you lost the baby, there was still a life force that you created. That is an amazing accomplishment. I apologize ahead of time if any of that seemed insensitive but please know you are loved and appreciated. You are not alone🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽
ONTO THE POST!
Warnings: mentions of miscarriages, that’s pretty much it. You’re married to Chan, afab!reader. Pure fluff! Oh, and mentions of girl dad Chan idk bout y’all but girl dad Chan needs a warning because he’s TOO DAMN MUCH ISTG HE IS A GIRL DAD
There’s a time skip bc I was lazy and wasn’t sure what to write as filler lol I’m sorry😭😭
Wc: Idek I didn’t count
Enjoy 😊
꒰ঌ(⃔ ⌯' '⌯)⃕໒꒱
You sigh and drop your head back to rest on the cabinet behind you. It had been almost two whole hours since you laid the damp stick on the counter and slid down to sit on the cool tiled floor. You had been feeling nauseous lately, but chalked it up to something you ate.
Until you realized you’re late.
By three weeks.
Three. Whole. Weeks.
You’re never late.
So, of course, you decided to take a pregnancy test.
While your husband was at work.
It’s not that you don’t want Chan to know. It’s just… after so long, after trying for this long, all the disappointment and heartache that came with each failed pregnancy, you learned to avoid the topic of kids. Specifically kids of your own. As much as you both want kids, the hardship of discovering each miscarriage broke your spirits.
So you’ve learned not to get his hopes up. Which is why you keep a secret stash of pregnancy tests. Because no matter what, you always get your hopes up when you realize what is most likely going on with your body.
You close your eyes, trying to relax your mind when your phone buzzes, bringing you out of your thoughts.
💙channie💙: hey princess. I’m on my way home
You: alright babe
💙channie💙: want anything from the store?
You: ice cream?
💙channie💙: ofc baby. I’ll see you soon love you
You: love you too. Drive safe💞
Sighing, you put your phone down, knowing you need to get this over with before he gets home. You slide your thumb over the diamond on your left hand before pushing yourself up to look at the results of the test.
“Shit,” you mutter. “I knew it.”
Four months later
You let out a sigh as the doctor spreads the cold gel across your belly, which, despite being four months pregnant, has stayed suspiciously flat. Hence why Chan never caught on.
“How’s the morning sickness?” Dr. Kim asks.
“Gone,” you say.
“Any general nausea?”
You shake your head. “Only when I sit or stand up too fast.”
He nods and hums to himself. “Any cramping? Abnormal bleeding?”
“None,” you happily reply.
His eyes flick up to yours. “Have you told your husband yet?”
You close your eyes. “No,” you whisper. “And please don’t hint to him.”
“Like I would,” the doctor scoffs.
Dr. Kim, as he is known at work, is one of your closest friends. The only time you ever call him Dr anything is when you’re in his office. Outside these walls, he’s just Seungmin to you. Your best friend since high school. He’s also the first person you tell when you’ve gotten pregnant in the past… and the first to know when you lost the baby.
“I can’t tell him, Min,” you say quietly.
“Why’s that?”
You feel your eyes start to burn. “What if I lose another one?”
Seungmin stops what he’s doing and grabs your hand. “Y/n, do you realize how long it’s been? It’s been four months. In the past, it only lasted half of that. I think it’s safe to tell him. You’re more than halfway through your pregnancy. Doesn’t he deserve to know?”
You bite your lip. “I don’t want to get his hopes up, though. It would crush him.”
“And it wouldn’t crush you?”
You blink back tears.
“Y/nnie, this is why you’re married. In sickness and in health, remember? You’re with each other through thick and thin. If this is gonna crush him, then let it crush you too. It’s okay to go through that. I understand protecting him, but have you ever considered that he wants to do the same to you, but he can’t? Let him in. Let it hurt if it ends up hurting. But you’ll heal together.”
“Minnie… as a professional… do you…?”
He understands your unfinished question. “Yes, love,” he says, eyes softening. “I think it’ll make it. So tell him.”
You take a deep breath and nod. “I will.”
*************
You feel something tickle your shoulder and sleepily roll away from it. But it returns, traveling up to your neck.
“Mmm,” you groan tiredly.
“Morning, beautiful,” Chan whispers against your skin.
You roll over to face him. “Morning,” you reply, feeling a loopy grin stretch across your face. You sigh contentedly when his hand slides up your waist and rests there, holding you close. You peek up at him, recognizing the glimmer in his eyes. “What?”
His dimples appear. “Nothing,” he instantly replies. “You’re just so pretty.”
You squint at him. “Is that all?”
“What? I can’t call you pretty?”
“Christopher Chan, I know that look in your eyes. Out with it.”
He props himself up on one elbow, half hovering over you. “I was thinking…”
“Oh boy, that’s never good,” you tease, reaching up to tangle your fingers in his soft black hair.
He closes his eyes in bliss for a moment, than takes a deep breath. “What do you think about adopting?”
You go still. “What?”
“Adoption. I don’t know I just think maybe it’s time to add another member to the family?”
You bite your lip. “But… baby. We already have another addition to the family.”
He looks at you, obviously confused off his ass. “We do?”
You nod, steeling yourself. “Well… it might take a bit but… yeah we do…”
“Love, what are you talking about? It’s not a very long process. Did you pick one out without telling me?”
You feel your eyes widen as you realize he’s not talking about the same thing you are. “Channie, what are you on about?”
“I asked you first.”
You shake your head. “Not until you spill.”
“A dog, babe. What else?”
“A… a dog?” You ask in exasperation. “I thought you were talking about a child, Christopher.”
“No…?” You watch his eyebrows join together in thought. “Wait. Back up. We already have another addition? What is that supposed to mean?”
Shit. “Umm…” you start to consider saying you actually did pick out a dog already. “Nothing.”
“No no no no no. Nah-uh. Y/n. What did you mean?”
You shake your head, refusing to answer.
“Fine then.” His hands meet your shoulders and he pushes you into your back, hovering over you. “You don’t wanna talk? Fine. Then I’m not getting up.” And he plops down on top of you, dead weight.
Of course, it hurts. Hurts even more considering you have an extra little someone residing in you. “Shut,” you yelp. “Chan get off.”
There’s something in your tone that makes him shoot up. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”
You shake your head. “Not… not me…”
“Then who…” as his voice trails off, so do his eyes, until they land on your stomach. “Fuck. Wait. No.” He looks up at you. “No. Baby. What?”
You bite your lip and nod. “Yes.”
“Shit. I…” he places a hand on your stomach. “I— I could’ve hurt you,” he whispers, staring down at your tummy.
“Baby, look at me. Please?” He does and you cup his face in your hands. “It’s okay. I’m okay. It’s alright.”
He bites his lip. “Are… are you sure?”
You nod.
“How long?”
“Four… four months,” you whisper.
He blinks. Five times. “What?”
You nod. “I had an appointment with Minnie and he said everything looks fine. He said that I just have a late developing baby bump. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, I just didn’t want us to get our hopes up… But Min said that since it’s been so long and I’m already more than halfway there…”
Chan’s eyes light up. “There’s a chance?”
“A very high one. You aren’t mad?”
“Mad?”
“That I didn’t tell you sooner.”
He shakes his head. “Baby. No. I’m not mad love. I understand your hesitation to tell me. Truly.”
You blink. “Why are you so calm right now?” You bury your face in his arm, which is still planted next to your head. “I feel like I’m freaking out and I want to cry and… God I don’t even know.”
He presses a kiss to your hair. “Because I know freaking out won’t help you and staying calm is the best way to process this.”
You sigh. “Why are you so perfect?”
“Just part of the charm. Besides, I have two princesses to take care of; I can’t let myself be anything less than that.”
You turn to face him. “Two?” You ask, raising your eyebrow.
He smiled sheepishly. “I feel like it’s gonna be a girl.”
You hmmm in thought. “What if it’s a boy?”
“Then I’ll still be nothing less than perfect. I’m just saying I think it’ll be a girl.”
“I think you just want to be a girl dad,” you tease lovingly.
He blushes slightly. “Maybe.” He leans forward and nuzzles your neck. “I think id be a great girl dad.”
You kiss the side of his head. “I think you’d be a great anything dad.”
“We got this,” he whispers against your neck. “We always do.”
You wrap your arms around him. “You still want to adopt?”
He chuckles. “Babe, you just told me we’re having a baby, and now you want to add a puppy in the mix?”
You shrug. “Why not? We’re growing our family, right?”
He nods against you.
“So then let’s grow it.”
@linoalwaysknows Tysm again for submitting the request
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He's mine.
Pairing: Toji fushiguro x chubby reader
Warnings: Yandere!reader, Attempted murder, Jealousy, Fluff, Ausgt, Fat shaming, Moody Teen, Reader's a little creep, Toji been knowing this, Yandere-ish stuff, implied sex. This ended up being just a little bit over 1k but I couldn't help but get into it, lol. Just give it a shot.
Summary: It's been a few years since you had your happy ending with your beloved darling. Your daughter was now a teen and your husband seemed to be never so popular with the ladies. What was a mother and a wife to do?
In times like this, you couldn't believe how fortunate you are, the man you once saw through a cafe window, the man you stalked from afar and who didn't care about your size or your possessive tendencies was your husband. Smiling you took a bite of the freshly steamed rice, watching fondly as your husband and daughter ate the breakfast you put your heart and soul in. Putting down your bowl of rice, you wiped your hands on the strawberry pink apron Toji had gifted you one anniversary, "So, how is it?" You asked.
"You did good, doll." Toji chuckled, a small smirk on his scarred lip, as you practically beamed and giggled with happiness.
"It's okay." Your daughter, Aiko muttered, pushing around and picking at her breakfast. 'Just okay?' You thought, your lips pulling into a frown, "Is it not good enough? Do you want some pickles? You used to love-" Your ramble was cut short as Aiko slammed her chopsticks on the Kotatsu. "it's fine. Mother." She replied coldly, her grip on her wooden utensils, hardening to the point her hand was shaking. For a moment no one said a word, the sudden tension in the room intensified before you spoke up, "Are you sure?" At your words, Aiko stood up from her seat and looked at her father. "May I be excused?" She asked, and Toji waved his hand.
she stormed to her room, not one glance or word to you.
"Let me go and talk to her," Toji said as you both stood up from the Kotatsu. "Why don't you do the dishes and take your mind off this?" He suggested, his hand lingering on the back of your neck before he headed towards Aiko's room. You watched him turn the corner of the hallway with a heavy heart. You tried to do the dishes, really but the irresistible itch to know what was going on was too much to bear and without much hesitation, you quietly crept to your daughter's bedroom. "Why are you so hard on your mother?" Toji's deep, voice became clearer the closer you got, his back facing the door as you peeked inside the small opening. "Why did you marry a clingy, overbearing freak? Why not someone normal Dad?" Aiko replied snarkily, playing with her raven hair irritably as she sat on her bed.
'Clingy', 'Freak', 'overbearing' 'Normal'
Replayed over and over in your head 'Is that want she thinks of me?' you thought, staring down into the soapy water abyss as the clanging of plates, bowls and utensils dulled in the background of your thoughts. Too into your head to flinch as two muscular arms wrapped around your soft belly and from the defined chest against your back, "You know she didn't mean it." Toji squeezed your middle and hooked his chin on your shoulder, you just hummed, mindlessly rinsing off the dishes and putting them aside. "Sure sounded like it." You finally replied after a few seconds, staring aimlessly at the soapy water to which Toji sighed his hand coming to caress your side.
'If normal is what she wants then normal she'll get'
"You mean it, mom?" Aiko asked in disbelief, putting on her coat. "Of course!" You smiled sweetly, "just go have some fun with your friends." You said, ushering your daughter gently out the front door. "Thank you so much!" She grinned, and hugged you, pushing her face in the croak of your neck, her thin arms squeezing your softer body before taking off down the street where her friends waited for her, laughing as they left. It was the first time since she had turned fifteen had she hugged you willingly
swiftly, you whipped out your smartphone, and checked your tracking app, intensely viewing the red, beeping dot moving across your phone. Taking a breath, your well-concealed anxiety slowly melted away.
You inhale sharply, clutching your shirt tightly in your fist as you turn when unexpectedly, someone familiar snickered, "knew it." Toji smirked bigger, leaning against the wall of the doorway, his arms crossed, even in plain old clothes he was the most sexiest man, he just wore a black sweatshirt with grey pajama pants but the way his hair hung to the side and those verdant irises lit up in clear amusement, causing your heart to flutter in awe and love. "Toji fushiguro." You warned, slightly jutting your hip out with one hand on it yet you couldn't take it seriously and neither could your husband by the smile tugging at the corner of your lip. Toji shook his head teasingly, pushed himself off the wall and strode to you. "That ain't normal, doll." He tsked, his arms entrapping you, pulling you against him, plush breasts and soft stomach met firm chest and hard abs before your lips locked together.
The sound of panting echoed throughout your bedroom, the scent of sex still heavy in the air as you both caught your breath. All these years and you still fucked like there was no tomorrow. "Right, I forgot to tell ya somethin'." Toji spoke up, running his fingers through his wet raven hair, shoving it back before looking at you, "My next hit, a rich prick," he rolled his eyes and continued, "will be at a gala-like thing, and I need ya to come as my date." He said and you grinned, you have never been to one of those! "'m gonna go start a bath." He stretched his muscles, getting out of bed and walked to the bathroom as you watched him wander off, and damn he had a great ass.
When Aiko texted you about bringing a friend to dinner, you never would've guessed it would be a boy, who was a bit closer to your little girl thus you still led them to the dinner table, where freshly made, streaming food sat ready to be eaten. As your husband, daughter and her friend converse, you stole glances at him..something felt off about him, his lazed crooked grin, that projected a cocky and ignorant aura.
And the way he looked at Aiko with nothing but lust, not an ounce of fondness. He wasn't worthy to be in your daughter's precious presence, he's the dirty on the boot of her shoes, and an ungrateful, disrespectful fool who didn't deserve to be Aiko's friend. You gripped the knife beside your plate tightly as you stared at him.
"Mom? Hello? " your daughter's voice snapped you from your thoughts. "Oh yes, dear?" You asked sweetly, a smile on your lips as you turned to her while ignoring the look Toji was giving you. "Kaito isn't just my friend..he's my boyfriend." She said shyly with a small smile. Boyfriend? Boyfriend! Rage took over as you heard that word, you couldn't hear the horror-filled scream Aiko let out as you kept across the table, your knife raised in the air but before you could drive the shining blade into Kaito's chest, Toji grabbed your wrist and his body pinned you down as you struggled to get out from under him, "Calm down." Toji whispered in your ear.
"Fucking crazy bitch!" Kaito shouted in fear and stumbling back. Aiko opened her mouth to say something but her 'boyfriend' was already out the door. Aiko turned to you and her (your eye color) eyes were dark and glossy with spiteful, loathing and hateful rage once they landed on you. Her fists balled up, "I hate you! I hate you so much! You ruin my life! Dad shouldn't married such a freak!!" She shrieked, ignoring her father's sound of disapproval as she sent you one more glare before running to her room and slamming the door shut, noises of things being thrown and loud sobbing were all you heard, and tears fell from your eyes.
Toji sighed as he stood in the doorway of your shared bedroom, staring at the you-shaped lump under the blanket. It's been a week since Aiko had yelled at you and you had spent most of those days right here. Toji gently scooted you to make room for him, "You know, the gala will be tomorrow and you need to get out." his arm curled around your hips and his head rested on yours, "Come on doll, I want you to be the prettiest girl there don't you?" He questioned, his hand rubbing your stomach. He knew he got you once he saw the small nod when he pulled away to look at you.
Shop your husband was classy and you have never seen such a store in person besides movies and TV shows portrayed. Gorgeous dresses hung on white fancy racks, each dark or light pigment. With the help of toji, you picked a hand of dresses to try on, the first dress you put on was a silk-rusted orange with off-shoulder see-through lace sleeves, you smiled as you gave it one more once over before stepping out of the dressing stall and frowned as you notice a few beautiful women sitting and standing around Toji on the light yellow and white couch. Their clear, sickly sweet voices asked and rambled yet Toji simply paid zero attention to them and smiled as he saw you, leaning forward. One of the women noticed this and followed his gaze to you, scoffing as she saw. "You look gorgeous baby." He grinned, tracing his emerald eyes down your body.
"You got to be joking?" The woman, who first noticed you rolled her faked blue eyes. "she's like so fat and looks like a pig in that dress." A woman with ginger hair, curled her lip as she took you in as the others agreed. You looked down and swallowed a forming lump in your throat, tears blurred your vision as you rushed into the stall. The women's laughter was stopped as they stepped back, and gulped down their fear as Toji turned to them with a cold, murderous look, a dark feeling washed over them and they quick ran off.
"You know that's all shit." He kneeled in front of you after following you into the stall, he looked up at you, trying and failing to get you to look at him as you sat on the built-in bench. "I fuckin' love your body." He licked his lips, you were sexy in the dress, the way it complimented your plump figure, drove him crazy with want. "I love the way ya feel against me. The way you can take me like no other." He purred, getting in between your thighs, you could already feel your cheeks heat up at that sight, "Got the best fuckin' pussy doll." He kissed your neck, his teeth scraping against it, you moaned softly, "Don't want anyone else." He trailed his lips up, planting a few pecks on your cheek and then pulled away to look into your eyes. "Understand?" He asked seriously and hummed satisfied as you nodded.
Your mouth dropped as you took in the sight of the glorious, resemblant castle, nervously you fixed your grown then looped your arm with your husband's and wandered inside. It was recherche, a dome-like shape took the place of a ceiling, painted details, and gold beams lined the ballroom walls. The floor was clear, squeaky-clean, and reflective white tiles, you never felt this poor yet awed in your life.
Straightaway Toji spotted his hit, patting your arm he sent you to get some of the expensive wine while he worked his way to his target. The red wine twinkled in the light, sweeping through the never-growing cracks of the glass, and your eyes darkened as that reacquaintance, rage and possessiveness. Women of all ages flocked to Toji, swooning and giggling like hopeless fools as he just stood there with his hands in his suit pockets, talking to his hit. Even though the fury, you could understand why, he was strikingly handsome in his deep emerald suit and his slick back hair.
Slamming the glasses down on the table, you sauntered to the group of women and took hold of one's arm one who dared to reach out to touch your husband. "Such pretty hands..it would be a shame if they were cut off don't you think?" You smiled creepily at her, playing with her ring finger before she ripped it away with a horrified gasp. The others looked at their friend and your smile and made themselves scarce.
although your little hiccup which Toji was able to play it off seamlessly, the night went exactly to plan. "So fuckin' sexy." Toji groaned against your bruised lips, his free hand groping and kneading your ass. "T-toji." You moaned as he nibbled on your neck "Focus on the road." You whimpered in slight terror as he jerked the car to the far right, barely missing the oncoming car. Once the deed was done, and you had left the crime behind to get discovered, Toji hadn't been able to keep his hands nor lips off you.
You giggled as you stepped through the door of your house, fixing your dishevelled hair and dress, your husband's hands never leaving your body. As you passed your daughter's room, a small sob from within stopped you in your wake. "I got this." You said, not paying attention to the concerned look your husband gave you before walking to your bedroom.
"Aiko." You knocked on the door and waited a few seconds and a tiny weak 'come in' called after. You let out a gasp as you rushed to your beloved daughter where she sat on her bed, crying only louder as you took her in your arms, "what's wrong baby?" you asked softly. "I was a bet mom!" She sobbed, "he dated me to just get ten dollars!" you inhaled sharply at that, calming the flames of anger.
"I'm sorry Mom. I'm so sorry." She let out a stream of apologies, "I'm a terrible daughter." She blubbered, hiding her face in your shoulder. "Do you know why we named you Aiko?" You continued, without letting her Anwar. "Aiko means 'love'. You are the love between me and your father, you were made by that love. No matter what happens I will always love you." You smiled and wiped her tears as she smiled a tiny bit back.
Maybe this wouldn't be so hard after all
Taglist; @xxmaddhatter39xx @shrimphutao4ever @pierrotandsam @darkstarlight82 @darkrose0506 @tojishugetiddies @fushiguroshotwife , @blake-has-too-much-energy, @queendessi24, @yune1337
#toji fushiguro x reader#toji x reader#toji fushiguro#toji x you#jjk toji#toji x chubby reader#yandere reader#yandere reader x toji#pretty admirer universe
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The content that I'm bringing next ✨
I thought I could give you a hint of the content I'm preparing in order to bring it during this week and next month! I'm taking my time to create it all, so that's why it's not gonna be posted right away, but I hope you'll like to read everything as I share it! 💖
I'll start with some regular posts and then I'll focus on my writing 🥰
-Get to know me. I mentioned a while back that I thought it'd be fine to share a little bit of myself with you so you can get to know me a bit better, and I'm currently working on this one and trying to think of as many things as possible so as to make it, you know... interesting? 😅 I don't really know how to describe it, but in any case, it's in the works!
-A masterpost. Just like the first one, I also mentioned that I'd like to create one at last, as I've posted a few stories and two headcanon posts already, and I want you guys to find them as easily as possible whenever you'd like to. This is gonna take a bit longer, because Tumblr's search tool doesn't work very well 😬 But I'll manage! 💪
-My pending asks. This is a bit embarrassing... I've had some asks waiting for a reply for months now and I'm so sorry that I've kept you waiting for so long 😅 Here's a promise: as soon as I've posted at least one of my pending fics (more about this below), I'll start gradually and slowly answering all the asks that I have left. I wanna give each and every one of you the proper replies you deserve, which is why I warned that I'd take some time, but that's one thing. Taking forever is very different and I'm truly so sorry 😅
-May and June calendars. Don't know if you've seen some of my calendar posts, but I happen to have two Nintendo calendars for this year and I've been showing them since January (here's the February one since I can't find the others lol), but sometimes I simply forget to share the one for the new month and it gets delayed... Shame on me again 😅 I intend to show May this week since it's technically still May, and I'll make sure to not let many days of June pass before I show the ones corresponding to that month 🥰
-Tons of reblogs! I've already started doing this actually, as I've been tagged in a lot of amazing content, and even if I'm slow, I wanna see everything and leave proper feedback when I have the chance 🥰 Thank you again to those of you who tagged me! And for your patience as well 🫂💖💖
And now... let's talk about...
✨📝 MY WRITING 📝✨
-My Kitsune/Tanooki story. This one is coming soon, and when I say soon, I mean this week! 😁 I would've liked to post it mid May, but life wouldn't let me, but hey, better late than never! 🥰 I'm now in the process of editing and I intend to start translating tomorrow, and that usually doesn't take long, so you can expect this one at the end of the week 👀 Hope you'll like it! 💖
-Anything for him: Chapter 3. As I've mentioned a few times, this last chapter is long overdue and I'm ashamed that I'm taking SO long to finish it as I know very well what's going to happen! 😅 Still, once my Kitsune/Tanooki fic is up, this is the next thing I intend to fully work on, and even though I'm not sure to give a specific date, I would like to post it in June at last. Wish me luck in achieving this! 🤞🤞🤞
-Post-nightmare cuddles fic. Okay, it's been a few months already, but... anyone remember this writing prompt? I happened to receive a couple of suggestions in my inbox, and even though I wrote and posted the first one back in March, I wasn't able to finish the second one as I wasn't in the mood for angst when I first tried. But that's changed! 🤩 I'm CRAVING to write some angst, so this is gonna be the third thing on my writing list, and, again, I'd like to post it in June. I'll let you know if I succeed! 🤞🤞🤞
Also, if you're curious, you can read the other prompt here 👇
-And last but not least... did anyone say...
... an AU? 🤔
Yyyyyyes! That's right! 😁 I've recently started working on my very first AU and I am SO happy 🤩 I'm really SO excited about this one! I don't know yet how long it'll take until I'm ready to start posting it, but this is the thing that I mentioned yesterday that I keep getting new ideas for almost every single day 🤩
I'm not gonna say yet what it's based on, as I want it to be a surprise when I finally start sharing it with you guys, but it contains EVERYTHING that I love and that many of you love as well, so... I believe you'll like this one when it's ready 🤭 Maybe when I work a bit more on it and see a release date coming closer I'll go and tell you what it's about, but for now... I'll just keep working on it and enjoying every single word that I'm writing 😁
I really hope you'll like all of this once I start sharing it! As you see, I'm a big fan of making lists 😂 That's the way I usually organize everything that I have to do every day and such, and I thought that maybe sharing this, I'll have it a bit easier to focus and really bring all of it to this blog, even if I'm slow. Still, just know that I'm truly enjoying the process of creating not only the written fics (and the AU 🤭), but also the posts that I wanna bring soon 🥰
If you read everything, thank you! I know I tend to talk a lot lol, so I really appreciate it! Love you so much! 💖💖💖
#future content#the posts that I'm bringing#the fics I'm working on#new story coming this week#new fic coming this week#my very first AU#an AU is coming soon!#I'm seriously so excited 🤩#I hope you'll like it! as well as the fics and the posts that I'll bring!#thank you again if you read everything#I talk too much 😅#hope you're looking forward to all of this though!#super mario bros#new mario content coming soon#my fics#my writing#silenzahra
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Guardian ghost
Jaune team meeting the other teams of beacon and we get ships make.
(don't know which ships to do since the only other teams/characters that matter in Beacon are CFVY & Nolan, so I'll just do ARCZ meeting CFVY with some slight shipping comedy)
~~~~~~~~~~
Team ARCZ was eating lunch when suddenly four other people approached them with their own trays of food and sat across from them.
The entire team was confused as to who these four were as they hadn't seen them before and didn't appear to be 1st-year students like them.
"Um... can we help you?" May asked.
The girl with sunglasses smiled, "Nah, but we could help you," She said. "Names Coco, and these are my teammates Velvet, Yatsuhashi, and Fox, were team CFVY,"
Hearing the team name, Cardin nearly spat up his drink, but managed to swallow and look in shock, "Hang on! The team CFVY!?" He asked.
Coco nodded, "The one and only~!" She said in a sing-song way.
Jaune was confused, "Who?" he asked.
Cardin looked to his leader with a bewildered expression, "You never heard of CFVY!? They were the ones who fought right next to Ruby Rose during the Mistral Massacre event!"
Hearing this, the rest of ARCZ were in disbelief that they were meeting people who fought alongside the Ruby Rose!
"Whoa! You guys fought next to Ruby Rose!?" Reese asked.
Velvet nodded, "Yep, matter of fact, we're her friends," She said.
Fox nodded, "Yep," he replied, "Red had a hard time adjusting to being the one and only student without a team in beacon history, so we decided to get to know her and help her with whatever she needed," Fox said.
"So cool!" May said.
Jaune would admit it was amazing that people who were friends with an upcoming hero like Ruby were sitting with them, which begged the question... why were they sitting with them?
Jaune looked at Coco, "If you don't mind me asking, why are you sitting with us?" He asked. "Shouldn't you be sitting with PAYS? Ruby's little sister is on that team,"
Coco chuckled, "And listen to her and Schnee boast about how amazing they are? Not a chance," She replied. "That team may be full of talented people, but they don't have as much resolve as you four," She said.
ARCZ looked at her with many raised brows, wondering what exactly she meant.
Seeing their expression, Yatsuhashi didn't even need his Semblance to read their minds as he chuckled. "We learned last year that if you really wanna survive this line of work, you gotta have a few screws loose, which all four of you do, but PAYS... they don't, we saw the fights between your teams," He told them.
Velvet nodded, "He's right," She said. "When it came down to it, You all pushed yourselves, meanwhile, PAYS was just seeing it as another test,"
Coco nodded, "Righto, bun-bun!" Coco said with a smile, "Speaking of which... who's with who? Or ya'll banging?"
Jaune, May, and Reese blushed, "We're not doing anything like that!" They cried.
"I'm taken," Cardin said.
Hearing that, AR_Z looked over to the brunette boy with a shocked look.
Cardin looked back at them with a raised brow, "What?" he asked.
"You... have a girlfriend?" Reese asked.
"I'm surprised," Jaune said.
May nodded in agreement, "Same,"
Cardin glared at them, "Why are you guys so shocked!?" He cried.
Coco shrugged, "Shame, but I'm more interested in the little desert mouse over there~" Coco said, turning to May.
May blushed with a shocked look, "M-M-Me!?" She cried.
Velvet sighed, "Stop," She grumbled.
Yatsuhashi shook his head, "Don't mind her, she's just teasing," He replied.
"Or am I~?" Coco asked.
Jaune just watched the interaction before getting a mental slap in his mind, which hurt but he knew why he received it. 'Thanks Oz,' He told himself.
"No problem" Ozma replied.
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🚆
#maybe it's the slight sleep deprivation talking#but i do keep wondering how approachable i come across on the subway to be talked to by a cute guy first#i hate having to be the one to do it first and if i'm looking up and [i think] smiling as i glance at the route list#[as an excuse to brush my eyes along your bulge inches from my face...]#then playing ygo duel links some more#wouldn't that be an invitation to spark a chat?#especially if it felt like we were sorta making decent eye contact there... lol#ofc this guy could've also been straight so i'm overthinking this but#😩 it looked like a nice bulge 😩#ugh he was hot#[also coming off some work stress and sleepiness i wanted this local train to hurry but also wouldnt have minded if he asked about my game]#[kind of a shame the last time a cute guy struck up a convo with me it was Taylor last *June* and that didnt go past our one nice date#and it was cute since it was about me playing a SoulSilver hack on my phone and us both being into ygo and anime#...still don't get why that petered out but he never replied when i said i thought i saw him walking around recently so w/e#anyway all this to sleepily say that despite how some selfies come off or take off i very much have my shy/overthinking moments lol#and also i saw this cute couple by herald square holding hands and ugh i'd like that again#[though also i really want to play with a cute guy's nice cock again... the duality lol]#anywho i should work on sleeping soon 🥱#/thought dump#ore no inochi#*makes you visualize a smiling corgi as thanks for reading all this*
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neighbor!Sukuna x single mom!reader; your ceiling is leaking at 3 in the morning and you don't know what to do so you go ask for help from the man across the hallway(inspired by real life events that were not nearly so charming).
no need to have read the others in the series but can be read as a week or two after the aquarium date.
cw: Sukuna being a menace
Sukuna had always been a light sleeper so when there were knocks on his door at 3am, he was up instantly. The knocks weren't even loud but he found himself annoyed enough to stomp to the door. If he wasn't sleeping, the people below him didn't need to be either.
He yanked his door open, prepared to make whoever it was regret every moment of their existence but it was you, holding your daughter and clearly on the verge of tears.
You seemed contrite when you saw his expression but before you could even start to apologize, he was slipping on his boots and grabbing his key.
"What's wrong," he asked.
"It-it's the ceiling, I woke up and it was leaking water. It's getting everywhere and I don't know what to do and the landlord isn't picking up."
Sukuna rubbed your arm, trying to give you some comfort and you relaxed a little.
"Okay, let me come take a look. I can call the super, he's probably more likely to answer than the landlord." You nodded and he followed you back to your place. Holding his hand out to stop you at the door as he made to go in first.
Sukuna heard the water pouring in before he saw it. He had never been in your apartment before. It was clear that a woman there. There was color everywhere, more blankets than made sense for two people and the walls were covered in photos and artwork. It felt soft, it reminded him of you. And now, it was being ruined by water raining down from the ceiling.
"Why don't you wait in my apartment. You both look like you could use some rest. I'll sort this out," he said, handing over his key. You looked ready to protest but then your daughter started crying.
"Go, I got it."
You looked so relieved and he wiped away a few tears from your daughter's face and pressed a kiss to her forehead which helped bring the tears down to a more tolerable snuffling.
"Thank you so much, I don't even-"
"Don't worry about it. You two just go settle in the guest room and I'll wake you up when it's settled."
You smiled at him and you seemed to hesitate before you went up on your toes to give him a quick peck on the cheek.
Sukuna couldn't stop himself from grinning as you took your daughter out the door and towards his apartment. He turned around to look at the mess that was your apartment. It looked like a pipe must have burst in the apartment above yours. Annoying, but a quick fix when caught this early. He grabbed his phone, opening it to call the super before a thought came to him that just wouldn't leave.
It would be a shame if you had to terminate your lease because of unsafe conditions, after all you must still have a good six months left on it. He knew you didn't have any family in the area and it would be a lot for a working mom with a kid as young as yours to go apartment hunting all the sudden.
Of course, he did have that guest room. Plenty of space for the three of you and it wouldn't be hard to bring over the stuff you needed while you looked. His apartment was bigger than yours, even though it was just him.
Even if it was a tight fit, his lease was up at the end of the year anyway. You could always get a bigger space, one for your soon to be growing family.
Sukuna pocketed his phone and took a seat at your dining table, away from the water. He figured it would only take another hour before the damage passed the point of no return.
He hoped you and your daughter were resting well in your new home.
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Living With The LeClercs » Charles LeClerc
Summary: take a peek into the life of the leclerc family and see what they get up to
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liked by carlossainz55, pierregasly and 1,402,505 others
charles_leclerc: off season complete ✅ batteries are recharged after yet another amazing holiday with the fam
39,503 comments
scuderiaferrari: looking forward to having you back with us next week charles 🏎️
landonorris: i refuse to accept that y/d/n is yours, she's too beautiful to have your genes
ynusername: @/landonorris she just takes after her mother instead 😇
username1: nooooo, f1 season means we get less dad pics from you charles
username2: i don't ever want the dad charles era to end 😭
ynusername: thank you for the best three months, i couldn't wish for a better dad to our little humans 💕
schecoperez: you're putting me to shame with all these adorable snaps, i better start uploading too
lance_stroll: calling dibs on being first to offer babysitting during the season btw
danielricciado: @/lance_stroll you take one i'll take the other, mini charles' are a lot to handle
lance_stroll: @/danielricciardo you've got yourself a deal
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liked by scuderiaferrari, landonorris and 832,420 others
charles_leclerc: race day is always better with these two babies causing chaos 🥰
29,908 comments
carlossainz55: as cute as your children are, can you hurry up and stop uploading to instagram...some of us have got meetings
username3: y/s/n is hands down the coolest kid at the paddock this weekend
username4: why do i get the impresson project leclerc jr is well underway with y/d/n 🤔
oscarpiastri: STOP SHOWING OFF HOW BEAUTIFUL YOUR FAMILY ARE 😡
maxverstappen1: maybe y/s/n will have a better chance of beating me to the top of the podium than you
charles_leclerc: @/maxverstappen1 one day...he's got his eyes on you! apparently you're his favourite driver
maxverstappen1: @/charles_leclerc tell him that he's got excellent taste
ynusername: not you promoting letting toddlers get behind the wheel of high speed cars 🙄
danielricciardo: if you're looking for a coach, you know who to ask
charles_leclerc: @/danielricciado you think i'm not capable of coaching my son
danielricciardo: @/charles_leclerc sure...but if you want him to learn from a proper driver, just gimme a call 😂
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liked by charles_leclerc, georgerussell63 and 294,405 others
ynusername: following this man around all day, trying to keep the kids from hugging daddy is a hard day’s work (see second pic for proof 😂)
12,492 comments
landonorris: if charles isn't interested, tell the kids that uncle lando will always be ready for a cuddle
iamrebeccad: i've never done so many steps before, who knew chasing after 3 year olds was such hard work 💫
ynusername: @/iamrebeccad i did try to warn you!! you should've listened
pierregasly: he's just tryna play it cool y/n, he isn't as cool as he used to be
username5: imagine being lucky enough to walk around the paddock and just see y/s/n and y/d/n everywhere
kevinmagnussen: tell them to have a sniff of charles after being in a race car for 2 hours y/n...that will soon be enough to put them off 💩
lilymhe: i want them to chase me and give me all the cuddles in the world
username6: you just know in any free moment charles is secretly looking around wanting his kids back beside him
username7: everyone say thank you to y/n for yet another round of hot dad charles pics 🙏🏻
oscarpiastri: why can't you hug me as lovingly as you hug your son? you're supposed to me my dad too
charles_leclerc: @/oscarpiastri "adopted"
oscarpiastri: @/charles_leclerc IT ALL STILL COUNTS
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liked by alex_albon, oscarpiastri and 829,407 others
charles_leclerc: like father like son…the leclerc smile is deadly
78,445 comments
username8: officially the cutest photographs to ever be uploaded to the internet 🥺
username9: excuse me charles leclerc you cannot just spring photos like this on us without warning
oscarpiastri: i smile like this too...family?? 🥰
maxverstappen1: if i had to pick y/s/n definitely looks cuter
username10: i was not emotionally ready for this adorableness 💔
carlossainz55: deadly?? you look like the squishiest marshmallow
username11: @/carlossainz55 i think you've been spending too much time on the internet 😬
ynusername: my two favourite boys, how did I ever get so lucky?
charles_leclerc: @/ynusername there's no way you're the lucky one, that title belongs to me mi amor
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liked by ynusername, carlossainz55 and 527,492 others
charles_leclerc: I’ve been posting a lot about my human kids recently, so here’s a shoutout to my other child so he doesn’t feel left out
43,482 comments
oscarpiastri: damn i almost thought that this post was gonna be about me
charles_leclerc: @/oscarpiastri i swear one more comment and i will block you, son or not
landonorris: how dare you mistreat leo like this
username12: @/landonorris #justice4leo
username13: charles leclerc...father of 3
ynusername: leo could never be forgotton, he's our favourite four legged child
alex_albon: @/ynusername also your only four legged child 🤔
estebanocon: cute kids, cute dog...how do you do it leclerc??
yukitsunoda0511: asking for a friend...do your kids also poo in the middle of the paddock or just your dog
username14: @/yukitsunoda0511 YUKI not you stitching charles up like this! 😂😂
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liked by estebanocon, lance_stroll and 728,493 others
charles_leclerc: my favourite things to do, being a dad with a bit of gaming too 🥺💕
53,684 comments
ynusername: where does being a husband rank in all of them??
charles_leclerc: @/ynusername you’re still my number one 😍
username15: if charles won't appreciate you come and marry me instead
maxverstappen1: so bad at fifa you've resorted to table football i see 🫢
carlossainz55: don't worry charlie, i'll beat you at that kinda football too
username16: not you forgetting the woman that gave you those two adorable humans charles 🤦🏻♀️
username17: public apology incoming
danielricciardo: and you just happened to be playing table football with your top off did you? 🤔
charles_leclerc: @/danielricciardo it was all just coincidence...promise
georgerussell63: charles leclerc giving the fan girls what they want since 2018
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liked by lewishamilton, landonorris and 842,348 others
charles_leclerc: appreciation for the wife so she doesn’t get jealous 😂 I love you honey, thank you for our perfect family ✨🔥
53,372 comments
carlossainz55: if you heard him gush about you as much as i do y/n you'd know there is never anything to be jealous of
ynusername: @/carlossainz55 what sorta thing does he say?? 🤔
charles_leclerc: @/carlossainz55 do not throw me under the bus like this!!
landonorris: one of you looks perfect, the other looks like he needs a haircut and to sort his beard out
username18: i hope you know how lucky you are charles
username19: how does y/n manage to look that good running around after y/s/n, y/d/n and charles all day???
logansargeant: can you stop making all us single people feel even more single pls 😭
schecoperez: the second best family in formula one
danielricciardo: @/schecoperez SAVAGE! 💪🏻
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liked by ynusername, scuderiaferrari and 1,392,503 others
charles_leclerc: just a post to remind you all I can do both…no dad bod around here 🫢
101,372 comments
username20: DADDY!? 💦
landonorris: how many takes did it take you to get that shot in the gym?
carlossainz55: @/landonorris i was there...for several hours
username21: soft dad charles will always be my fave
ynusername: is there anything that you can't do? you take my breath away charles leclerc 💫💕
oscarpiastri: one day i hope to be as strong as you are...dad
charles_leclerc: @/oscarpiastri BLOCKED
alex_albon: i don't know who looks more tired, you or y/d/n
charles_leclerc: @/alex_albon me, definitely me, but i wouldn't change it for the world
#f1#f1 imagine#formula 1#formula 1 x reader#f1 reaction#f1 smau#f1 x reader#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#formula 1 smau#formula 1 x you#formula 1 social media#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 fanfic#formula one#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you
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gorgeous can we get bombshell reader and Spencer May be the first time he’s snappy with her bc he’s stressed and she’s just so taken aback and May be even tears up? And then just a fluffy ending with Spencer apologizing
thank you for requesting! fem, 2.2k
Spencer Reid is extra kissable when he's frowning. Button up and no suit jacket, sleeves pushed past his elbows and hair on the shorter side, he holds a certain confidence in his hands where they're tucked in his pockets. Sure of himself, and clearly agitated.
You're always on his side; you don't think twice about easing into the conference room to see what's wrong.
"Hey," you say with a slight lilt to your tone. You're always on his side, and always flirting. "What's wrong?"
"Why does something have to be wrong?" he asks.
Not mean. Not light. Somewhere in the solid middle, his gaze loyal to the laptop on the desk he stands behind. You step close enough to smell the subtle scent of his cologne, wondering if he can smell your perfume in turn, and if it's one he likes. You try to touch his hand and he takes the desk into his grip instead, leaning forward, out of reach.
"That's not what I meant to convey," you say, still flirting. You're not stupid, you realise his mood, but you're hoping it's somebody else's fault. "But if you aren't happy to see me then I'd definitely suggest there was something wrong."
"I'm just trying to figure something out."
This close, to your own credit, Spencer usually trips up. He's been getting better as you've grown closer, your 'torturing' —as the team likes to call it— only prompting the occasional blush or stammer. You don't flirt with Spencer to torture him no matter what anyones says and you never have, you flirt with him because he deserves to be complimented. He's andsome, intelligent, and courageous. What others might miss you see in blaring neon lights: he's a catch. You intend on making your intentions known, and if that means playing the long game or the slow burn, that's okay. You like to dance.
You put yourself between him and the laptop screen. He can still see it if he cranes his neck, and he does. "You look a little tired, handsome. Looking at a screen all day will hurt you in the end. Neck aches, shoulder cramps, eye strain. Though I can't help with the latter, the former…" His arm is solid under your hand, your fingertips running along the ridge of a stark vein.
He doesn't quite flinch away, but he moves quickly enough to startle you, lamenting, "Could you give me some space, please?"
That's all well and good, you rush to do as he's asked and step back because the very last thing you want is to make him uncomfortable and his voice is frankly acidic, but everything is moving too quickly, you're not as aware as you should be —you smash your hand backwards into a cold cup of coffee and knock it straight into the lap of Spencer's laptop.
"No," you gasp, grabbing the cup before the entirety of it can empty. Coffee wells between the keys and you go to grab it to– well, to do something.
"Stop it!" Spencer shouts, voice sharp as a knife. "You always do this," —quieter, venomous— "you can't help yourself."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I would answer you if I had the time. I'll be busy rescuing my hard drive before an entire month of work is wasted thanks to your dire need for attention."
He slips around you and stalks out the door, coffee dripping from the corner of his laptop in a sorry trail that shines in the fluorescent lights.
Your first rush of tears are driven by indignation; it was an accident, you didn't mean to do that, why would you ever do that? But the second, more encompassing rush is a hot mixture of shame and guilt. What have you done?
You take a hesitant step toward the door but don't bother following him. I'll make things worse, you think, bringing a hand to your face. Makeup marrs your hand as you wipe your cheeks. You stare down at the stains for a long, long time.
I'll apologise, you think eventually, rubbing at the mascara like soot on your palm. Just as soon as I look okay again.
You don't want Spencer or anyone to see you upset. You wear your makeup and your confidence for yourself, not to hide any insecurity but to embolden yourself, to be yourself. But to get to your desk you'd have to leave the conference room bared as you are, and you'd have to face Spencer, and the second option brings more tears.
This is all so messy, and it's your fault.
I'm such an idiot. I'm exactly what he thinks of me.
You sit in the chair furthest from the door with a pack of tissues from the cubby and rub your hot cheeks dry, streaks of mascara in the shapes of your fingertips like soot left behind. It's sitting that gets you —the shock of tears at being shouted at by someone you care about amplifies into a distress you can't explain. It's stupid, it's stupid. You press your face into your hands and curl in on yourself at the table, ears ringing. I'm so, so stupid.
—
The inside of Spencer's lip is bleeding, metallic on his tongue. He's white hot annoyance all the way to Penelope's office, choked as he tells her he needs her help.
"Spencer?" she said. "What happened? Are you okay?"
He realises what he's done. "Please, Garcia, can you do something? I really need to go."
He doesn't hear her response beyond her surprised but emphatic Sure, spinning on his heel to walk back the way he came. He rubs at his temple, moving between a slow trudge and a speed walk as he assesses the damage of what he's said. What did he say? your dire need for attention.
Your sniffing is something out of his fucking nightmares. Who does he think he is? You're sitting exactly where he left you next to that half empty coffee cup, a tissue scrunched in your trembling hands, visible in the small glass window of the door. You must be thinking of what he's said to have missed the sound of his footsteps, or perhaps he's left you too upset to want to look up.
He sees the moment a sob works through you, watches you hold your breath in a painful effort to keep it down, raising the tissue to your eyes and catching your tears before they fall. You're doing a lacklustre job despite your efforts, the oily shine of mascara iridescent on your cheeks. Or maybe that's tear tracks. It's hard to tell.
Spencer fights with himself. He doesn't know if deserves to come running back or if it would be more fair to send JJ or Derek in to comfort you.
"You made your bed," his mom would say, not without affection. "You have to lie in it."
Spencer squeezes his eyes closed to push away the memory, surveying the damage he's done carefully as he crosses the threshold back into the conference room. Your head lifts at the sound of the door, your stammer visible before you speak, "Spence– Spencer. Is your laptop okay? Did I break it? I'm so sorry."
Gideon would tell Spencer to be nicer. Hotch would say Reid in that stern shade of voice that's half disapproval and half fondness. They'd both tell him to be better, but neither of them have ever had to see you as you look now, tearstained and sorry, eyes wide with worry but shoulders tense. He has his role models, and yet none of them could possibly give him a way to apologise that could ever make up for they way he's made you feel.
Little dramatic, Morgan would say. Start with a hug, loverboy. Can't go wrong with a hug.
He should ask but he doesn't, a second transgression against you. Spencer pushes past chair and the sodden circle of carpet to your chair, pausing in case you're going to tell him to shove it. You lick your lips. "Did I break it?" you ask, as though resigned for a yes
He can't temper that amount of self-hatred on you. It doesn't suit you. He much prefers you the way you like to be, confident in everything, flirty and funny and soft, in both touch and touches. He takes your face into a careful hand, tilting it toward the light and weary of your shallow exhale. "I…" He begins and ends, stroking your tacky cheek with his index finger, as though brushing away an eyelash. If it were real he'd say make a wish, and you would wish for him or some similar sweetness, salacious smile to boot, or earnestness fit to fill a mountain. I wish you'd realise how pretty you are and stop denying me the pleasure of a beautiful boyfriend, you'd croon.
His fingers collect at your jaw and slip behind your ear as he cleans your skin with the side of his thumb. You lean into the touch, slashing his hesitancy in two.
"Sorry," he says, pulling your head toward his neck gently as he leans down to hold you. "I'm sorry. Don't be upset, please. Don't be upset "
"I'm an idiot–"
"No," he says, with the facts to back his denial. "I'm an idiot, I should never have upset you like this–"
"I broke your computer, it's just like you said–"
"I shouldn't have–"
"–I'm so needy I could've ruined all your hard work," you say, wriggling with guilt like you attempt to pull away.
Spencer really doesn't want to let you go now he has you, not until he's sure you'll stay in one piece. "If it's ruined, it's my fault for failing to back it up."
He should tell you that he's sorry for what he said. He knew it wasn't right he moment it escaped him, to speak to you like that, and accuse you of what he did. He basically called you selfish, uncaring. He implied it and worse, and for what? An accident? A mis-step that he practically forced you into?
"I never should've said that to you," he says, breaking his hug to crouch in front front you, searching blindly for your hand as he holds eye contact, looking up. You deign to frown down. "And I walked away. And you're crying," —his voice fries with sympathy— "because of me."
Your hand is limp in his. "I'm sorry," he says.
"It's okay." You sniffle and nod, lips struggling into a smile.
"It's not okay."
"Well, I hit your coffee over, so we're even."
"You accidentally spilled my drink, you didn't deserve to be mocked."
"Spence…" Your eyes half-lidded, you wince down at the cradle of his hand where it holds yours. "Did I break it?"
"I don't know. I got to Garcia's office and I knew I did the wrong thing, so I came back."
You swallow audibly. "I just wanted to make you feel better."
"I know, angel." He stands again as your eyes well with tears to hug you, kissing the top of your head. "I'm sorry. That was all me, okay? I shouldn't have snapped at you."
What follows is agony. Spencer patting your back through a panicked bubble of tears, wretched in knowing he caused it, and worse is the look you give him as he wipes your messed up make up away in want of a mirror, like you're grateful.
"Does it look really bad?"
"N–no. You look really pretty," he says.
"Are my eyes puffy?"
A little. "No. You look great." He can't apologise anymore– it won't help you feel better now, it'll just assuage his own worry. What you need is a different reassurance. "It's hard not looking at you, sometimes, you look that nice. But you know that already."
"I don't mean to do that. I didn't mean to."
Spencer puts his hand above your heart. "I know you didn't. I really, really shouldn't have said it. I was being cranky and I struck out like a kid."
"...You're not just saying I look nice to get back in the good books, are you?" you ask.
Spencer leans in, nearly nose to nose with you. "Of course not."
You tilt your head as though you might kiss him. He knows you won't and he's delighted anyways. It means you're feeling okay. He's nearly forgiven, or, at the very least, you're not actively upset. "I thought I liked seeing you pissed off, but now I'm not so sure."
"It's not a good look on me," he murmurs. "But it looks great on you, if you want to get angry with me."
"Well now I can't. I know it's what you want."
"Can I give you a hug?" he asks.
You drop all your acts and slide your arms around his neck. He wraps you up slowly, one arm at a time, careful to put all the pressure exactly where you like it.
"That feels nice," you mumble.
He bends into you and rubs your back. "Yeah?"
"Don't," you warn.
He draws a shape into your back with his fingers, slow, tiny things that make you squirm. "Don't what?"
"You're tickling me." You don't sound unhappy about it.
"What?" he asks. "I can't hear you over the sound of me being a huge jackass. Sorry, angel."
Your giggle is honey into his shoulder, sticky and sluggish as his circles turn to stars.
#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#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds x reader
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▨ "our child is an angel"
JJK characters when called into teacher's office about their child
Characters : gojo, toji, nanami, sukuna
Genre : fluff, crack
Warnings : I use female pronouns
A/n : Toji is not a deadbeat dad in this one because yeah. Wish he was canonical a hot dilf but we can never get what we want where Gege is concerned 😟
⟢ gojo satoru ␥
"When your son was asked to wait to go to the bathroom, he replied 'I will pee on your floor then bitch.'" The teacher spoke solemnly.
Satoru immediately snorted which you gave him a death glare for, pinching his thigh harshly.
You frowned," Well, before I question why the teacher denied bathroom privileges..." you turned to your husband. Your son was pouting next to you both, looking away with narrowed eyes," That doesn't sound like him at all, does it Satoru?"
Satoru immediately agreed with you, shaking his head," N-no. Not at all. Who taught you that language, kiddo?"
His son looked at him with a betrayed expression, pointing at him accusingly "YOU did!" He exclaimed.
Satoru's smile was pained as you slowly turned your head to him, eyebrows furrowing,"... Thank you for your time, Mrs. Fiyumi. I will have a stern talking. With BOTH of them." Then you gave her the brightest smile," I think it's all the candy they've been eating, I think maybe it's time to cut down on it all, yeah?"
The teacher nodded in agreement with a knowing smile," Yes, I agree."
The two males simultaneously slouched back into their chairs with loud groans which they covered up with coughs when you glared at them.
Satoru mustered a charming grin, settling a loving hand on your shoulder," I've been meaning to go on a diet anyways, haha..."
You rolled your eyes and patted his hand with yours in a pitying way," shut up, my love."
"Dad! Grow a backbone, you lanky idiot!" Your son scoffed out disapprovingly.
The white-haired man's charming grin fell instantly and he glared beneath his glasses," shut up you-"
⟢ nanami kento ␥
"Yes, your daughter got into a fight with one of the boys and managed to split his lip." The teacher gestured to the little girl in the chair who was sitting oh so politely.
Nanami hummed lowly, brows furrowed," not good." He said with that disappointed drawl to his tone that could make anybody curl into themselves with shame, his own daughter cringing to herself.
You merely raised a brow at your daughter," That right? So she won?" You asked bluntly.
A warm hand settled on your knee, squeezing lovingly and as a warning," not the point, love." Nanami grunted out disapprovingly.
The girl grinned with her cute gap-tooth, blue eyes glinting with pride as she looked to her mother," I won!!" She chirped," he pulled my hair so I split his lip!"
Her parents stared on in silence before Nanami gave her a small smile filled with warmth," Good girl."
⟢ ryomen sukuna ␥
"Your daughter punched Midori-"
Sukuna held up a hand," Don't need to hear it. Let's go." He began to stand up, tugging his little girl by the hood of her hoodie.
You shook your head in disapproval at your husband and looked to the teacher," I'm sorry, can you give me more context?"
Sukuna scoffed," Babe. Its obviously about that rich kid again. The little shit who bullies her? Yeah. Don't give a fuck. I'm proud of my fuckin' daughter." He glared at the teacher and walked out of the room with his daughter following anxiously behind.
Your eye twitched before you stood up slowly, offering a pained smile to lighten the load," well, you heard the man. Thanks." You left as well, not before tugging on your husband's ear like a mother and giving your girl a kiss on the forehead and a promise of ice cream.
Sukuna crouched down to her level and pinched his daughter's cheek with a bored expression, eyes glinting in amusement at the sight of her nose scrunching up at the actions," Next time? Put her through endless torture and misery. I can teach you a few techniques--"
You had to step in before your husband created a potential serial killer.
⟢ fushiguro toji ␥
"Megumi got into a fight aga-"
Toji let out an obnoxiously loud yawn, wiping away the sleepy dust from his eyes as his wife fretted over their son's messy black hair.
"Ugh, I swear your hair drives me crazy, Megs. You definitely didn't get it from my genes." You muttered as you tried to smooth out the strands.
Megumi merely sighed and pushed your hands away with an uncomfortable frown etched onto his face," Mom. Listen to Mrs. Fiyumi." He scolded lightly.
"I am, I am." You whined to him, turning to face the teacher with a frown on your lips.
"You too, dad."
Toji blinked at his son before scoffing," I was, I was." He let out a fatherly grunt as he sat straight in his chair, large hand resting on your thigh as he did, looking to the teacher in boredom.
The teacher cleared her throat, giving the small child a thankful nod for keeping his parents in check," As I was saying, little Megumi got into a fight with a boy yesterday. This behaviour seems very unlike him, so I was just worried if there's anything going on at home lately that's stressing him out?"
Megumi's brows furrowed but he didn't open his mouth, sitting politely in his chair. You hummed," Well, I suppose he hasn't been getting a good amount of sleep lately. But that's all I can think of." You settled a hand on your husband's that was caressing your thigh gently.
Toji hummed," just apologise, Megs. An' we'll be on our way." He grumbled to his son, waving his free hand dismissively.
Megumi cleared his throat and stood up, bowing to his teacher, which shocked her a little," I'm sorry, Mrs. Fiyumi. I won't hit anyone again." When he stood to his full-height, he looked her straight in the eye," I hope your failed marriage is getting better." He stated in such a polite and genuine manner.
Toji bursted out laughing - cackling like a witch whilst you stared at your son in complete horror, tugging his hair scoldingly.
#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#gojo x y/n#gojo x you#nanami x you#nanami kento x y/n#nanami kento x you#nanami kento x reader#nanami x reader#toji x you#toji x reader#fushiguro toji x reader#sukuna x reader#sukuna x y/n#sukuna x you#ryomen sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna x you#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jjk x reader
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The Sin of Lust - Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) x Fem!Reader SMUT
Summary: You confide in Lucifer about just how unsatisfied your husband, Adam, is leaving you. Lucifer decides to show you a whole new, much more pleasurable side of things, a side that leaves you wanting even more of it.
Contents/Possible Warnings: Cheating (Reader is cheating on Adam w/ Lucifer), Side Adam x Reader, Religious themes, Religious guilt/shame, Cunnilingus, Masturbation, Fingering, P in V sex, cream pie, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, SMUT, MDNI, this shit is depraved in a good way 😊
Your favorite spot in the whole of Eden was a small clearing no different from the rest of the garden. It was hidden away just enough that your husband, Adam, didn't know of its existence; making it your little getaway spot. You'd come here often, especially on days like today; days where Adam was more annoying than usual.
It was your duty and sole reason for creation to serve him, and you were trying your best to show thanks to your Lord by fulfilling your purpose, but it was growing harder and harder every day. Adam wasn't a bad person at his core, but he was insufferable in more ways than one. He was arrogant, felt he was better than you simply because he had a dick, and constantly treated you like you were useless unless it came to sex.
Sex with your husband was okay, and that was all it was, just okay. It wasn't horrible, sometimes it felt nice, but Adam always left you unsatisfied; longing for something more that you couldn't identify. That's how it was last night, and that's how you were sure it'd be again today. That's why you retreated to where you were now.
You sat on the soft grass, basking in the comfortable silence that came with the lack of your husband's presence. All days were nice in Eden, but today was even more so; with the sun bathing you in the perfect amount of warmth and the melodic chirping of birds filling the air. You wished it could stay like this forever, but you knew all good things must eventually meet their end.
Sooner than later you'd have to return Adam, knowing that if you were gone too long he'd come looking for you. You were dreading it, to say the least. Maybe you could pretend to be sick tonight? Or maybe you could go to sleep early? Or maybe you—
"Adam's looking for you, y'know."
You turned your head toward the voice, spotting God's most beautiful angel himself: Lucifer. You had hoped you would see him. The Lord's angels weren't supposed to mingle with humans in the way Lucifer had always mingled with you; your meetings had always been a secret that you two kept under lock and key, both of you not wanting to know the outcome of his fellow angels, or your husband, catching you two.
"Lucifer!" You exclaimed happily, looking up at him as he hovered in the air, gorgeous ivory white wings holding him up. You opened your arms, and he came down, warmly embracing you. He tilted your chin up before pressing a loving kiss to your lips; it felt like it had been years since you last kissed him, even though it had merely been days.
"I missed you." He said, affectionately tucking back a stray lock of your hair. "Heaven's not the paradise it's supposed to be without you to be there with me." You smiled at his comment before the words he said earlier finally sunk in.
"Adam's looking for me? Fuck, I've been away too long." This was bad, really bad. You had never been gone long enough for Adam to go searching for you. He was going to ask questions, and you knew you couldn't answer them, at least not honestly.
"Don't worry, I 'helpfully' suggested he go in the opposite direction," Lucifer reassured you with an almost mischievous grin. Relief filled you, he had bought you more than enough time. "Thank you, Luci." You smiled, sitting back down on the grass, patting the spot next to you. Lucifer joined you, holding your hand in his after he had sat.
"I know you like your time away from Adam, but you've been away from him longer than usual. Is something bothering you? Did he do something...?" Lucifer questioned, voice soft and laced with concern. You nervously bit your lip, unsure of how to approach the topic without being too overwhelmingly blunt.
"I...." You began, pausing to take a deep breath, almost embarrassed by what you were going to say next. "I don't want to have sex with him, not today. Or ever." You admitted, shame filling you.
You were meant to fulfill your Husband's desires, it was why you were created. You already felt guilty about avoiding him today, along with your boundary-pushing relationship with Lucifer, so to finally verbalize how you had been feeling felt like you had just sinned in the worst way imaginable. You were failing to fulfill your sole reason for living.
"He leaves me unsatisfied, yearning for something more. I know it's selfish of me, I know it's downright sinful, but I wish that I could feel the same amount of pleasure Adam feels for just once in my life, even if its not needed for me to get pregnant." You refused to meet Lucifer's gaze. The angel had always been a good-intentioned rule-breaker, but at the end of the day, he was still an angel. One of the beings meant to carry out your creator's will, and your creator willed that you be submissive to your husband and birth his children.
Lucifer must be disgusted.
The last thing you expected was for him to begin pressing gentle kisses to your neck and collarbone, something you weren't entirely unfamiliar with, just not from him. It was the same thing Adam did to signal he wanted you, albeit Adam's kisses were much more hurried and sloppier; nowhere near as delightful as Lucifer's.
"L-Lucifer..." You breathed out, letting him lay you down and begin kissing lower and lower, all the way until his head was at your thighs. He placed his hands on them, but before he did anything, he looked up at you. "May I?" He asked, catching you off guard.
"W–What?" You stuttered in response. Your only other experience was with Adam, and while he knew that 'no' meant 'no', he was certainly more commanding than Lucifer was being right now.
"I need to know that you want this," Lucifer explained, lightly kissing the outside of your thigh. "I'm not him. You don't need to feel pressured into anything. I want you to be the one who feels good for once, yeah?"
You hesitated. Kissing Lucifer was one thing, but this was another; there'd be no going back from this. It felt wrong, it was wrong, but at the same time your desire for the man who made you feel things your husband never could was quickly overtaking you. You didn't just want this, you craved it. You needed it.
"Show me, Lucifer," You finally said, giving in, spreading your legs for him. "Show me what I've been missing out on." Lucifer placed a kiss on your inner thigh, dangerously close to your wet sex, before diving in like an animal starved. The feeling of his tongue licking at your cunt ignited a newfound ecstasy within you, your legs beginning to quiver not too long into it.
Your hands gripped at the grass beneath you, only got him to grab them, leading them to his hair. You grabbed at it instictively, pulling at the locks, eliciting a low moan from him; the vibrations sending a wave of pleasure coursing through you.
"Lucifer!" You cried out, feeling him sucking on your clit. You slapped a hand over your mouth, trying to muffle the lewd noises escaping you; as if it would lessen the sin of the act you were committing. His mouth left your needy pussy, his fingers replacing it soon after.
"No no no," He cooed, using his free hand to uncover your mouth. "Let me hear those sweet sounds you're making. Let me know how good you feel." You threw your head back with a pleasured whine as he curled his fingers inside of you, hitting a spot deep within you that had you seeing stars.
"Fuck—Your mouth, use your mouth—" You gasped, pulling his head back down, guiding him to where you needed him most by tugging at his hair. His fingers continued to fuck into you while his tongue lapped at whatever it could, the angel becoming drunk on your taste. His hand left your cunt, joining his other hand in locking your thighs in place as your legs trembled from the sensation of him going down on you.
"Close—So fucking close! Don't stop!" You pleaded. The impending feeling of orgasm was something you had felt before, but never before had you reached its climax; at least not until now. With one more 'come hither' motion of your lover's fingers, you were cumming for the first time in your life, your toes curling and a primal noise leaving you. He helped you ride out the waves of your orgasm, licking at your drenched sex, drinking up the juices of your climax until you couldn't take anymore, pushing his head away in a desperate attempt to escape the growing overstimulation.
Lucifer pulled away, eyes half-lidded and filled with mixed satisfaction and lust, your slick covering the corners of his mouth and fingers. He made a show of licking it off, moaning at the taste as it reached his tongue.
You let a content sigh, coming down from the absolute ecstasy you had experienced just moments prior. The feeling of contentment didn't last for long as you saw the bulge in Lucifer's pants; a sight that reignited the desires you had started with. To say he had done a good job would've been an understatement, but after finally witnessing just how amazing sex could feel, you knew you needed more.
You crawled into his lap, straddling him as you kissed, tasting yourself on his lips. You grinded down on him, and he separated from the kiss to let out a small groan. You continued your movements, feeling his cock growing harder through the fabric of his pants.
"Wait," He told you, placing his hands on your forearms in a signal for you to stop. You halted your actions, eyes widened in worry, and a blush creeping onto your face; scared you may have done something wrong. Did he not want you...?
"Hey, relax," He soothed, rubbing your arms comfortingly, taking notice of how you tensed up. "Do you want this? You're not obligated to return the favor or anything like that." You nodded in response. It was true, you wanted him more than anything. "I need you, need you so much." You rubbed down against him once more. "I need you inside of me, I need you to fuck me."
He smirked at your words, he had waited far too long to hear you say that. How many nights had he spent fucking into his hand, pretending it was your tight pussy, a hand clamped over his mouth so he wouldn't be caught by his fellow angels? To hear those words, so lewd and sinful, spill out of those perfect lips of yours sounded like music to his ears.
"I'm here to fulfill every single desire you have, honey." He purred, moving your hands down to the waistband of his pants. You pulled them down swiftly, his cock springing out. God, it was a sight to behold. You bit your lip, already imagining it inside of you; the leaky tip parting your folds, teasing you before finally thrusting in, the thickness of it stretching you out, and the length reaching that same sweet spot his fingers had touched earlier. It was everything you had ever wanted.
Your hands rested on his shoulders as he lined the tip up with your dripping cunt, giving you the honor of actually putting it in. You sunk down, sliding it in with ease. You moaned at the way he stretched you out, just as you imagined he would. His hands found your hips as you began to bounce on his cock, moans leaving you both.
You used him like you would a toy, something he had no problem with. You were lost in your own lust, focused purely on your pleasure; just the way Lucifer wanted it. There were no expectations placed on you except to put yourself first, to feel good for once. Lucifer wanted you to use him, and so you did.
"Fuck yes!" You cried, increasing your pace, the sound of skin on skin filling the air. Lucifer cursed, holding onto your hips hard enough to bruise. He moved one to your clit, rubbing at it, finding enjoyment in the way you threw your head back in ectasy at the combined sensations.
Your orgasm was sudden and caught you by surprise, your body trembling as it coursed through you. Your climax triggered his, and he spilled into you, warm cum filling you deep.
You pulled him in, lips finding his, pouring all of your love and passion for him into the kiss. You continued to kiss him sweetly as both of your orgasms subsided, enjoying the feeling of him still buried inside of you. That itch for more still resonated deep inside of you, and you were determined to satisfy it, even if it meant giving in to more and more of your sins.
Lucifer laid you down, lips never leaving yours as he began to move again; the same lustful urges having overtaken him as well. A second round turned into a third, and so on. You continued until you couldn't anymore, exhaustion being only what remained, and the day turning to night. All good things must come to an end, and eventually you bid Lucifer farewell.
Although you ended up bathing away the physical proof, your sin still remained as you returned to your husband.
"Where the FUCK have you been!?" Adam shouted upon seeing you, and you only ignored him, moving past the man and towards where you slept. Lucifer had awoken something within you, something equal parts liberating and devious. He had shown you a new world of possibilities, and you were more than ready to continue indulging in them.
The sins you had committed during your day were just the first of many, and you couldn't have been happier.
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#💫mimicwrites💫#hazbin hotel x you#fem reader#fem!reader#hazbin hotel lucifer#hazbin hotel lucifer x reader#hazbin hotel fanfiction#lucifer hazbin hotel#lucifer morningstar x reader#lucifer x reader smut#lucifer x reader#lucifer morningstar#hazbin lucifer#lucifer magne#hazbin lucifer x reader#lucifer x you#lucifer hazbin#lucifer hazbin x reader#hazbin hotel smut#hazbin hotel x reader smut#smut#mdni#lucifer hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x y/n#hazbin smut#smut hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel lucifer x reader smut#banner by cafekitsune
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orange theory - l.norris
a/n: inspired by the tik tok trend going around + slightly unedited (wrote this at 4am 🫠)
he hates that noise.
the one that just left your lips usually indicates that he's in trouble, but turning around to see you tossing a small orange in between your palms he can't imagine what he's done wrong now.
"it's a shame," you mutter allowing the orange to flop onto the counter, it rolls a couple inches away from you, piquing his interest, “I really wanted that orange." a frown lines your lips and now it's his job to figure out how to make it go away.
"why can't you have the orange?" he asks. he reaches out to inspect it, seeing if there was any mold or an odd smell, but nothing suspicious stood out to him about the fruit. it seemed perfectly fine to eat.
"my nails." you answer almost earning him to snort in response. looking up from the orange, he notices the fresh acrylic set and having known not too much about them, he can’t imagine they’d be useful in peeling an orange.
it's stupid, really, but you've seen the trend and you wanted to test it if Lando would pass. he's tossing the fruit in between his hands before he begins to peel back the outer layer. victory at last.
"well then I'll help you."
"I knew you wouldn't fail me." you smile happily turning off your phone and watching him, "but I actually don't even like oranges." you sheepishly reply earning him to look up.
rolling his eyes he begins to eat, "well then, thank you for the orange.”
#f1 imagine#f1 imagines#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#lando norris imagine#lando norris fic#lando norris fluff#lando norris fanfic#f1 fiction#f1 fic#f1 fluff#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 x y/n#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 x you#formula 1 x y/n
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Hi !!!! I’m sorry if this is bothering you and if so you can totally ignore this but…
I’ve been thinking about how Ghost would react to reader gradually pulling away from him because she gained some weight and is self conscious and ashamed and doesn’t want to be seen by him, so sculpted and beautiful… but of course he’s feeling low because he wants to be close to reader and so he asks and she finally explains it to him (ready to be broken up with…)…. And I’d love to read your take on it !
You can make it female or gender neauteal I don’t really care !!!! Thank you anyway ❤️❤️❤️❤️
Wildflowers Grow in Ruins
(Ghost x F!Reader, word count: 5 k)
Summary: Reader tries to break up with Ghost because she thinks she's not good enough for him.
Tags/warnings: FLUFF, soft sensual smut 🔞, hurt/comfort, light angst, Jealous!Ghost, Soft!Ghost, self-loathing & self-body shaming. Good girl talk/praise kink. Reader is female and wears a skirt for smut plot purposes.
A/N: I hope you like this take & I hope you don't mind that I tweaked this request just a little bit!) Also: JFC I'm wordy. The "I need to explain why they're fucking!" meme comes to mind every time I write anything.
Wars are exhausting.
You know fighting for something can empower people. Fighting against something usually just depletes your strength.
But waging a war against yourself…
Now that is pure hell.
It started somewhere in your youth. You thought adulthood would take it away; that reason and tolerance would take it away. You were supposed to feel more confident in yourself, more positive about life. And for a moment, you thought you might just succeed.
But standing beside a god of war is no easy feat.
He came into your life like a walking myth, swept you away, and you only laughed as you went. It was fun at first. He was supposed to be your savior, the solution to all your problems. If a man like him found you attractive, perhaps it was the world that was crooked and not you.
But then you got soft: you started to gain pounds. Meanwhile, he became even more magnificent. It reminded you that it had all been just a dream.
Perhaps it was his eyes that seemed to worship you, that seemed to look past your every flaw. Perhaps it was the hands which never seemed to get enough of your skin. Whatever it was, it was too much. And at the same time, never enough.
The day has finally come to let him go.
You think yourself heroic. It's like it should be: it's only right that you finally release him to someone better than you.
But inside, the noble feelings twist and turn and curl around your throat and stuff your stomach full of ice - the kind they fill glasses of mojito with. The drink you'll always remember him by because he teased you about it: that you wanted an ice-cold summer drink even in the middle of winter.
Now you feel cold all over, and wish he could warm you like he used to.
You would forsake all the mojitos of the world to keep him. You would renounce the whole drink if it came to that; if you could make him yours.
But he's not yours. He never was: he was just on loan to give you a taste of what it would be like to have a man like him. That taste should be more than enough for a lifetime. You should feel grateful.
So why is it so hard to let go?
The key on the front door turns, and your heart shoots up your throat: you're supposed to settle this thing once and for all. You're supposed to let go of him today.
And still, when he arrives, you can't find the courage to say what you need to say. The words are stuck in your throat, but tears are not. He should already be a memory, but you find yourself suffocating on memories as you cry. You've learned to do even that in silence, like the rest of your suffering.
You take a few deep breaths, wipe the tears away, shove the rest of them down your throat – you save them for later, later, when he's far away and you can finally curl up and cry your heart out without no one there to look. Fucking later.
Good.
Good.
Great.
You put your heaviest armor on. It protects weak and soft flesh because you can't meet him all bare. Then you step forward with the knowledge that you’re a thoroughly wounded guerrilla while he is a seasoned, well-rested veteran. The fight is nowhere near even, but it's ok. You are not meant to be in the presence of immortals anyway.
The man looks at you warily as you finally enter the room. That haunted look has followed you for some time now as the distance between you has grown.
It should be easy, what is about to come, because he hasn't touched you in weeks. You haven't wanted him to.
Or you have… But it's not easy to have his hands on you when your body is only a vessel you hate. How can you even think about pleasure when all you think about is how it must feel for him to caress something as awful as this?
The man is a vision, and he settles for a peasant. It should be against the law, but it's not… so you figured a some time ago that you should simply find the strength and grace to do ii: do what's right.
"I need to talk to you."
Your voice comes out neutral, and it makes you more confident, if only for a second or two.
He lifts his chin: already knows what's coming, because he's not stupid. You've been shutting down for weeks, and he hasn't done much about it. But when the thunder rolls in, he doesn't flee. Probably because he fears nothing.
"Go ahead then," he says, equally as neutral, equally as icy. Got his armor on, too.
This should be easy…
It's really not, so you decide to rip the band-aid off in one yank.
"I think we should go separate ways."
The following inhale from across the room pierces the air like a bullet. You can hear his breaths gain depth and speed all the way to where you're standing.
"Ok."
It doesn't look or sound like he's ok. If anything, he looks like he's trying to process the sudden storm.
"Ok…" His eyes are on the floor as he rubs the back of his neck. Then he starts to pace around the little kitchenette you've shared for almost six months, just before you started gaining weight.
He stops to look out the window, then turns to you, and the hurt in his stare comes through like a thousand needles pushing through skin.
"Is it because of my work?"
"No."
"What is it then?"
Your breaths are getting out of hand, too. He looks like a lost, tired creature in an abandoned animal shelter for a moment, and it breaks your heart. It squeezes the organ inside a flaming fist until it shatters like it has never been nothing more than ice.
Your lip starts to tremble, and he notices, as per usual. Nothing escapes this man, except perhaps the true reason for your anguish.
"Hey. Hey."
He comes to you and hugs you like it's the only thing that matters: to comfort you when he sees you're about to cry, no matter how crushed he's feeling himself. The sudden warmth, the intimacy after weeks and weeks of pain is knee-buckling.
"Is there anything I can do to change your mind?"
His voice is soft, so soft… The tears rush forth now; there's no way of stopping them. What the hell can you even say to a question like that? That you wish he could grab a magic wand and turn you into someone gorgeous, the woman he deserves?
His embrace feels good, kind of. It also feels smothering because your self-hate makes you want to disappear from existence entirely. His eyes are equal to physical touch, a probing scan that sees every little flaw, not to talk about massive faults, the ones which make you feel like you're simply disgusting. His touch only reminds you how you must feel like to him: soft, too soft, weak.
And he must hate weakness.
"What do you need me to do? I'll do anything," he tries with a parched throat, then swallows.
It's fucking horrible. This isn't going at all like you had imagined.
"It's not about you," you struggle out of his hold, and he lets you go with reluctance. You have to basically fight your way out of a bone and steel prison. Why would he even want to hold a pathetic woman who's on the brink of ugly crying on top of everything?
"What do you mean?"
He's slightly breathless – and restless as fuck. He's usually so calm; nothing can get to him, nothing can rattle the tower of raw strength. Now you've not only pierced some invisible armor; you can hear pieces of it falling on the floor.
"Have you found someone else?"
What the…
"No." You put as much weight on that word as you possibly can. To imagine that he thinks you are cheating… Fucking cheating on someone like him. "Jesus Christ…"
He takes a deep breath and sighs deeply, sighs out relief, perhaps. Then his razor-sharp stare fixes on you again, and you can see the fear turning into something akin to concern. You suspect you have to tell him the truth, otherwise he will dig it out of you.
"I'm just…"
Jesus, this is just humiliating.
"I'm just not your type."
"What the hell are you talking about," he mutters, the impending fury giving way to momentary surprise.
He gets intense sometimes. This time, the ferocity is born of barely concealed distress. He's broad and magnificent, even in despair. He’s just so fucking fine… The perfect man, someone you had never even imagined yourself with. Pulled down to the world of puny mortals, evidently stressing about losing one.
Losing you.
"If you have someone new, you can just bloody well tell me."
"It's not that. You don't understand–"
"Try me."
"I just…" A tear escapes down your face as you finally break for him. "I'm fat. Okay? And ugly. And–"
"Stop right there."
The look on his face is just… It's priceless, you suppose.
"Bloody fucking hell…"
He looks at the floor, then runs his fingers through the short cut hair on top of his head. You've yanked those blonde strands more times than you can count, nearly every time he's been between your legs, and you miss it – you long for it, like fallen angels long for heaven.
And if there was a time this man was rendered speechless, you would say you were witnessing that moment right now. His brows knit together, then he looks up at you again with blaring disbelief.
"You're serious?"
"Yes."
"This is the reason you wanna break up?"
Ugh.
"Yes?"
His voice grows rougher with every question until it resembles thunder, and you suspect this is the commanding tone his soldiers are used to hearing.
But you're not: it's gravelly, harsh, and betrays the feeling of having been insulted. You feel even more devastated with yourself – it appears you can do nothing right.
"Where has this… idea even come to your head?"
"I don't know."
"And you never thought to ask my opinion?"
"Would you please stop yelling," you whisper and blink back some putrid tears. His mouth is snapped shut, his head pulls back just a little as he realizes what he's done.
"Sorry," he says with a half-whisper, and you catch the strain in his throat. You've never seen him cry, but now his voice is suddenly thin and frail. "I'm sorry."
He takes a step, then another, places fingertips on the counter as if to take the faintest support.
"Can I touch you?"
You don't really want him to do that, but you feel pity for the man. He's trying to find a way through this mess, and you want to help him.
"Yes," you whisper, and he immediately comes and takes you in his arms again. Hot tears disappear into his shirt, and you sniff a few times. He feels so good, so safe, even when you're about to lose him. His hold tightens around you, and the kitchen is silent; the whole world is silent. You don't know if you're being put to a grave or if you're in a deaf womb, waiting to be reborn.
"Now I don't know who's said this shite to you but ugly is the last fucking thing I'd call you," he declares above you. As if it was some bully whose fault it is that you were this way, a bully he could deal with with his fists or a gun. If only things were that easy…
"Have I said or done something? To make you feel this way?"
Then the blade is turned against himself. The man desperately searches for a culprit so he can deal with them.
"No," is the only thing you can say because it's true: he has never done a thing to make you feel like you weren't good enough; quite the contrary. But then again, he doesn't have to. It's enough that he exists and resembles a god.
"Then why do you think you're not my type?"
"Because you're so perfect," you hear yourself wail, no, cry into that shirt that smells of sweet safety and familiar musk – his scent, another thing you have missed like it's the only way to heaven.
"That for sure ain't true."
"But it is."
He seems to have the utmost difficulty in grasping what the issue here is. You can almost hear the wheels turning in his head with a rusty, laborious creak.
"Can't believe you wanna break up because of this," he finally says. You've chipped his pride, the ego that lives off of pleasing the ones he loves: the few chosen ones who he wants to give his whole life to.
"To me, you're perfect," he then says, and you simply… You stop breathing. "You're like… my dream woman. Ever thought about that?"
It can't be true, even if you vehemently, desperately want it to be. You reach out to his words like they're precious food after years of famine. Like they're sun and spring rain after being buried in the cold, dark soil whole winter.
"No…?"
"Never occurred to you that I might find you fucking beautiful?"
"Stop," you whisper, because it's too much to take in. He sounds so serious, so sincere.
"No, I don't think I will."
He pulls back a little and cups your face. Brushes away a tear, looks at you with so much love that it physically hurts; you feel like it's a lance that slowly drives through your heart.
"How about I kiss every part I love about you?"
You let out a soft little whimper. Fuck, that you want him to…
It would also be uncomfortable as hell. To try and let him love you and your body, which you have grown to loathe.
"It's gonna take all night, though. Wanna be as thorough as possible."
"Simon–"
"Love. I want you. Thought I'd made it pretty clear, but apparently I haven't. If you only knew how much–"
He sighs deeply. The man is frustrated with his shortcomings, thinks that this is all his fault. You cry a tear or two just for the sake of how absurd it all is.
"I don't want you to go. I fucking love you. Everything about you."
For the second time this afternoon, your lower lip starts to tremble as if this was some stupid, romantic movie. He can be so soft when he wants to, more romantic than the soft-spoken gentlemen in Jane Austen's novels. It doesn't even require any effort: underneath the cynical surface, there's fiery emotion, so powerful and raw that it almost bleeds out of him. Fuck… Does he even know what he's doing to you?
"I love you too," you whisper back, and the warmth that starts to bloom in his eyes is an entire sun on its own. It's hope, and you believe him, almost believe him.
"Then I'd say it's a bloody bad idea to break up."
You chuckle while few more tears push through to the surface.
"Simon…" You sigh and look back up at him, your armor falling to the floor too. "I feel like a wreck."
You allow him to see the pain, all of it. His breath is sharp as it hits him, but he still doesn't waver.
"Then let me help you."
The arms around you gain more strength, and you're crushed against a chest made of power. He tries to turn shit to gold, and threatens to succeed. You allow yourself to soften in his hold. How good it feels to be supported – no, loved.
"You don't even let me touch you anymore."
It's a filed complaint, but also heart-rending, soul-wrenching longing. You have evaded him for weeks now – hell, this shit began months ago and has escalated gradually, stealthily, until the moments together were a rarity, the space between you was full of frost; and not the crispy, happy summer drink kind.
"I thought you'd found someone else. Could've found out if that was the case in minutes, but honestly, I didn't wanna know."
Oh my God…
Has he lived with a growing suspicion and dread all these months?
That would explain why he has avoided you too…
He has allowed you to go to your supposed lover, has given you space to be alone and without too much attention. The man has shielded himself from pain.
Jesus fucking Christ.
"I'm so sorry," you say with a strained little breath. "I swear it's nothing like that. I just… I feel like a mess."
"Never seen such a gorgeous mess."
He speaks on your skin, the kiss on your forehead feels like an absolution.
Then you notice it's not only his words which try to assure you. He's growing harder by the minute against your stomach, just from a simple hug. Just from being pressed against you like this, after weeks of dry, bitter longing.
"Miss your taste," he murmurs to your skin, his voice like sand wrapped in burning velvet. "The sounds you make when you want it hard."
Oh God–
"Miss your smile when we go to shower after."
"Hmh…"
"Don't wanna live without that smile."
You don't have to.
God, you don't have to…
"How about we make a deal," he draws fingers down your chin, coaxing you to look up at him. His eyes are stripped from the cold distance that greeted you just moments ago: now they are filled with warmth that spreads to your chest and belly and bones. You drink him in like summertide.
"You come to me every time you feel bad and I'll make you feel good. Alright?"
"...Ok."
He tilts his head a little to the side, not entirely satisfied with your shy little answer.
"Come on. Make me believe it."
"It's a deal," you say with more grit to it, even if you're nearly crying again, this time from relief.
"That's my girl."
Oh fuck…
He knows exactly what strings to pull, the good girl talk being one of the things that instantly makes your legs feel like jelly.
And why does he always have to use that voice when he calls you a good girl or his girl, that sultry smoke that makes you want to swoon until he catches you and carries you to bed?
The man seems to be a mind reader as well, because he sweeps you off your feet and does exactly that: carries you to your bed which has mainly seen silent tears and painful sleep last months.
"Poor thing doesn't even know how lovely she is."
He sounds amused in the face of your darkness: sees it in full and still doesn't fear at all. He's ready to battle your demons for you, and you feel like shaking: from his touch and that voice, from the stress and loneliness that starts to release as he lays you down on the bed.
He looks so different from the man that has haunted this place for the past months, the complete opposite of the reserved soldier retreating into the shadows.
He moves to kiss you, and it's been – what? Weeks since your last kiss? And even that was only a quick peck, nothing like this… Wet, and desperate; a devouring. It makes you clench around nothingness, and you finally surrender.
No one can fake such fervor.
You try to accept it: accept the fact that even if you hate yourself, he does not. For some reason, he adores you. His breaths hit your face hot and urgent, and he can't keep his hands to himself anymore. They wander over your waist and hips, they even risk to steal a feel of your breasts, and then he groans in your mouth.
"I've missed you. Fuck, I've missed you..."
You taste notes of burning leaves; tobacco, his only weakness. You fantasize on the thought that you might be another weakness, too.
"Remember when I fucked you in my office?"
"I've missed you too," you utter softly in between the kisses that threaten to turn into a sloppy mess. "So much..."
He smiles at that, and it makes you weak, even when lying down like this.
"Yeah…?"
"You were so loud I had to put a hand over your mouth."
His voice is thick as he laughs a short chuckle. Your inner walls clench again at the sound, you throb among the warm syrup surrounding you.
"Never seen you so wet. Almost dripped all over my gear."
"It's that stupid mask you wear," you hear yourself breathe like you've just been underwater. Feel yourself throb some more, feel a burning sensation in the nether areas from the scorched desert turning wet again. You want him so much that it actually hurts down there.
"Knew you'd like it. That's why I kept it on."
If this man keeps talking, your underwear is going to be utterly ruined. And of course he does; of course he continues to pour more love in your ear.
"Everyone looked at you like you were a queen," he grunts in your ear, sounding almost… pissed.
"Don't be ridiculous," you try to form sensible words. It's only a faint breath, really, but he huffs at your modesty.
"You don't have eyes in the back of your head, love."
Wow… He is a bit pissed.
Had they checked your ass out when you visited him?
It was the first and, what you thought, the last time you got to visit him at his workplace… but you never would have guessed the reason for him not asking you to visit again would be jealousy.
"Don't worry. I put those fuckers in their place after you left."
Whoa.
Ok…
First, he had fucked you senseless in his office – a highly inappropriate move for a man in his position – then got jealous because some soldiers had checked you out as you left with his cum practically dripping from your cunt.
You put yourself in his shoes for a moment: he's had to live with thoughts of you running to some other man's arms when he's not home, and then watch you waltz around his workplace after making what was supposed to be the last effort to make him love you… When he has loved and adored you this whole time, has watched the sway of your ass with the rest of those home-deprived, horny soldiers, thinking you had fallen out of love and were on your way to go see some other guy.
Had he invited you there to try and win you back, too? By showing himself to you in all his puffed up, masculine glory? A desperate man in a skull mask, hoping to get love from you…
There's so many misunderstandings; they rip your throat. A sob escapes, and he stops his caress.
"Love… Tell me to stop if you–"
"No. No, I don't want you to stop."
Your request comes out with such demand that he hesitates only a second or two. Then he moves on top of you and tugs your skirt up. You don't even have time to realize what is happening before he has worked himself out of his pants.
He's hard and heavy between your legs, and your eyes go wide as you realize he's not going to bother to take your briefs off. He just slides a hand under the skirt and draws the fabric aside, and the fat tip of him is pushed in the middle almost clumsily. It's hot, and slips down to your opening with ease.
Oh f–
"Been jerking off to you nearly every night at the base," he says just before he pushes himself in.
"Uh–...."
Your thighs spread wide as he fills you slowly, inch after inch. The sound that leaves him is starved: a dry, painful sigh. He's been waiting for this for god knows how long, and you're just as hungry to take him in. He seems endless, the way he finally works himself fully inside, spreading you even wider as the thickening base of his cock reaches its end.
"Thought you were getting railed by someone else while I only get to fuck my hand."
"Oh god…"
There's really nothing else to say as his balls press against you, heavy and taut. He's not going to last long.
"Yeah. Imagine that," he admits, breathless like you.
You look at him with what must be the most helpless stare of longing in your eyes. Then he moves, and you want to grip him to keep him inside. The first thrusts are divine, they're pure heaven, and your head sinks deep into the pillow as you try to get enough air, try to not scream from pleasure already. Somehow, all you are able to utter is a desperate little whisper.
"Simon–"
His cock is good enough to bring tears to your eyes. You're starving too, you're pulling him in with fierce hunger, and he groans, then nearly falls forward, his weight pressing against you, swallowing you, until you feel like you're an idiot for thinking that you're too big. The thickness of his chest rubs against you as he makes love to you with passion that echoes the first times you did this.
"Just wanna adore you, love." He's panting desperate somewhere above you. A god and a man, both furious and gentle. "I wanna adore you. Just like this."
You answer him with what must be those sounds he told you about, the sounds you make when you want it hard.
You want him to fuck you, to wreck you after weeks of loneliness and hate. To love you until you break into a million pieces.
"Simon," you whisper. "...Love me."
He halts, huffs in your neck. It's almost a sob. There's so much emotion and desperation in the air that it could be scooped up and sold in the streets.
"Always," he rasps in your ear, then moves to kiss you again. "Always."
The promise echoes around you, it coats your lips as he loves you with all he has. It's been so long, and he feels so good that you nails dig into his shirt, his shoulder, you try to hold onto him even though he's the wave that rocks you.
"You feel that?" He goes deep; he's out of breath and desperate, even more desperate than you. "That's love. You feel it, yeah?"
"Yes," you sob in his shoulder, tears trying to escape your waterline as you're going dumb from the pure sensation, the sensuality of it all.
"That's it, love. That's a good girl," he turns to your neck and gruffs in your ear as you whimper and moan. "Always such a good girl."
Shit…
"I, I'm gonna…"
Your legs wrap around his middle, your muscles twitch and your hands reach and grab – they claw and yank and tug everything they can: his back, shoulders, shirt, something sturdy to keep you from drowning in a glorious orgasm.
He laughs in your neck and continues to grind you through your climax even when you're shattering, sighing, moaning, writhing under him. He just laughs, the man who never laughs: from witnessing you respond to him calling you a good girl.
Fucking bastard…
Lovable, infuriating bastard who knows you to your core.
You're an overstimulated heap by the time he comes as well, not long after you, but long enough to make you feel like you're only a tender bunch of nerves. Your legs have fallen to the side, he has open access to take what he needs: you, your love, all of it.
His whole middle goes tense as he cums, he groans and swears somewhere deep into your neck, rolls his hips over and over again like it's a must that his balls press against you with every thrust that shoot his load.
Then he falls slack, nearly collapses on top of you, reminding you of what it feels like to be small under a giant like him. You're throbbing together, you're full and fulfilled, and he is still lodged deep inside you, panting and broken in a sweat.
"Jesus Christ…"
He sounds dazed.
Relieved.
"Should've done this weeks ago."
You laugh at seeing him so done – a man in love, torn by jealous yearning, finally taking what's his. You stroke his neck, his back – it's so good to have him finally there… So close, with no barriers in between.
"I should've talked to you weeks ago..."
"Yeah. You should have."
"Are you going to punish me?" You giggle a little – the flirt is light and frees your heart further from its recent jail. He moves to look at you with all the tenderness there is. It's too much... His love is too much. But you won't run from it anymore.
"Nah. Think I'm gonna spoil you some more."
He spoils you right away with a kiss. You surrender to his treatment with happiness: happy tears, even.
The medicine to your anguish has been the exact opposite to what you had first tried, what you had originally thought. The true remedy for your sickness is mercy. Perhaps some spoiling…
And love.
#simon ghost riley#simon riley smut#simon riley fluff#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost fluff#soft simon riley#simon riley imagine#ghost x you#simon riley x you#fluff and smut#call of duty
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Hey, I love your writing, your Jason fics are always so tender and authentic
I was wondering if you would write something where Reader is pulled aside by someone and asked whether they're in danger (since Jason is pretty big and intimidating) and later they laugh it off because they find it absurd but it gets to Jason and perhaps brings some insecurities to the surface
this is actually devastating!!! thank you for requesting 🤌
jason todd x gn!reader. tw: wrongly assumed abuse and jason being gutted at the idea, hurt/comfort, reassurance, estab relationship.
****
"Chocolate is obviously superior."
Jason sighs, flopping against the diner booth dramatically. "What a shame to be so wrong. Vanilla stays on top."
"Vanilla is boring as hell, Jay," you say, throwing your napkin at him. He catches it. Of course. "On the milkshake hierarchy, vanilla is barely a step above whatever monstrosity a peppermint bark shake is."
"Buddy, I happen to like drinking toothpaste." He points a finger at you. "And that's my God-given right."
"It's an abomination is what it is." You take a long, pointed sip of your shake. "Mm, the taste of good choices."
Jason traps both of your legs between his under the table. You gasp and try to wiggle free, but his strength is merciless.
"If it's an abomination, why is it on the menu?" he asks, grinning as you squirm.
"Well, what else are they meant to serve you freaks?"
Jason gently tugs you forward by your legs. He leans over the table. You meet him halfway.
"This freak appreciates the thought," he says and kisses you.
He tastes like vanilla shake. It's not what you'd order, but you really don't mind kissing it off of Jason's mouth. Funny how that works.
He pulls away and releases your legs, then scoots out of the booth.
"Gonna take care of business. Don't drink my incredibly irresistible shake."
"I'll certainly try," you say, looking up at him with what are undoubtedly giant heart eyes.
Jason disappears to the restrooms. You drink your shake and focus on trying to craft the straw wrapper into a snake.
You're close to shaping it when a woman comes up to your table. You've never seen her in your life.
"Uh, hi," you say. "Can I help you?"
She glances around the diner before leaning down.
"Hey. Look, if you're... in need of someplace safe, there's a great shelter downtown."
Your brows rise. "I'm sorry?"
"I was in your shoes once too," she says, eyes wide. "You don't have to rely on a guy to get you on your feet. Especially someone like him."
You shake your head slowly. "I... what? I don't understand. The man I'm with, he's my boyfriend."
She looks skeptical. You turn to face her fully, because now you're properly bewildered.
"Uh, I appreciate that you're looking out for people, and I know stuff you're referring to is everywhere in Gotham. But I promise I'm okay."
"I know physical intimidation is scary—"
"Whoa." You hold up a hand. "Just because he's a big guy doesn't mean he's throwing me around. He's the gentlest man you'll ever meet. I love him and he loves me. No one is in danger."
The woman's mouth pinches. You don't even have it in you to be upset. You've never once felt afraid of Jason. But you forget how he looks to others, how he's twice or triple most people's size and covered in scars.
"Here's the number to the shelter," she says, slipping the paper under the salt shaker. "In case you change your mind."
She hurries out the door before you can respond. You stare at the card, then shrug. You suppose, if anything, you're happy there are still good Samaritans in Gotham.
Presently, Jason returns. He purposely makes his footsteps heard because of the countless times you've lectured him about scaring the shit out of you due to his habit of going stealth mode without realizing.
"Hello, dearest," he says. "I've returned from war."
"My hero. Did you wash your hands in battle?"
Jason slides into the booth and sticks his hand in your face. "Smell 'em and rejoice, baby."
You take his hand and give it a deep sniff. It indeed smells like soap. Not that you ever doubted your boyfriend's handwashing capabilities.
"Smells like... wrong opinions about milkshakes," you say, then kiss his palm.
He rolls his eyes. "I can see my absence has taught you nothing. Unfortunate."
"I'm stubborn. I'm sure you of all people can understand that," you say, smiling.
"Mm. Y'lucky you're cute."
Your food arrives, the waitress cheerily informing you that she hopes you enjoy your meal.
"I think she's the happiest person in Gotham," Jason says, shaking the ketchup bottle.
You take a fry from his plate. "Probably a Metropolis native."
"Y'know my fries are the exact same as yours, right?"
"Nope," you say. "Yours have special boyfriend cooties on them. Adds flavor."
"You're gross," Jason says, quite lovingly.
You make a heart with your hands. He returns it, then takes a bite of his burger.
You don't even register it when Jason grabs the salt shaker. You're zeroed in on your lunch and don't look up until he speaks.
"What's this?"
Jason's holding the shelter hotline card.
"Oh! Some lady came over and gave that to me."
"Gave it to you?"
You should clock Jason's tone and the way he's stopped eating completely. But the experience was so odd that you can't fathom Jason thinking it as anything but a mistake.
"Yeah. For some reason, she thought I was here drinking a milkshake with you against my will. Probably 'cause it's Gotham, and you're my BBB: big beefcake boyfriend. Little does she know, I'm the heavyweight boxing champion of Park Row."
You swirl your fries in Jason's ketchup. He doesn't even blink. Usually, he'd give you a raised eyebrow and pretend he's cross.
Jason's still staring at the card. You catch his legs with yours. He doesn't look up.
"Jay?" you ask, smile fading. You drop your legs. "Hey. Y'good?"
"Hm? Oh. Sorry, baby." He puts the card aside and smiles at you, quick and strained.
"Everything okay?" you ask.
"Yeah. Uh, fine."
"Jason." You lean over and grab his hand. "What's wrong?"
He swallows. You wait, the noise of the diner fading. All that matters is whatever's causing his absolutely heartbreaking expression.
"How could she think I'm hurting you?" Jason whispers, finally looking at you. "How could—I would never hurt you."
"Oh, Jay. Honey, that's why I hardly entertained her. It was so silly to think about. I was so puzzled at first that I couldn't even decipher what she meant."
"But what if... y'know, maybe she sensed something about me. Sensed violence. I get it. I'd–I'd be scared of me if I were a regular person."
"Jason, sweetie, no. No, no, no. I think that woman experienced some hard things in her life, and that caused her to see something that wasn't there. She had good intentions, but she was absolutely wrong. I know you have a past, but I've never felt unsafe with you. Never. I could never be afraid of you."
Jason gnaws on the inside of his cheek. You get up and slide in next to him, crowding him against the wall. You curl against his arm.
"You love me so well, I forget that most people see a monster when I walk down the street," he says.
You squeeze your eyes closed. Pins in your heart.
"You're not a monster, Jay. You're good. I know it. Your family knows it. You're a protector."
He takes a deep breath. "If–if you ever felt afraid of me, ever, and you wanted me to stay away, then you tell me so, and I'd leave you alone. No questions asked."
"Jason," you whisper. You wrap your arm around his neck and pull him close. The vinyl squeaks as you shift. "Jay, I love you. I don't want you to leave me alone."
"But if—"
"No. Please listen to me. I know you'd never hurt or frighten me. Sometimes, people are wrong. She was wrong about you. She was kind but wrong."
You sit like that for a bit, feeling each other breathe. Jason's hand grazes yours. You grab it, lacing your fingers together.
"I love you too," he says quietly. "Never felt anything but love for you."
You smile and steal another fry off his plate. He snorts.
"I know." You lean against his shoulder. "Never doubted it."
#jason todd x reader#red hood x reader#jason todd x you#love him! *flails and cries*#red hood fanfiction#red hood x yn#jason todd x y/n#batman fanfiction#dc fanfiction#jason todd imagine#inbox#blurb
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How To Balance Your Daytime and Nighttime Activities So That You Don't Burn Yourself Out More Than You Already Have
Dick had to give it to the kid, he'd somehow thought of everything. It was a little concerning, actually, but the kid had brushed off every attempt had probing for answers. Who trained him? If he was trained at all. ...had the kid gone into vigilantism alone? Oh, dear. THat's not good fro Dick's current worries.
Reading the file Danny had handed him, Dick had to wonder how long it had taken him to put together this cover story. Also, where he'd managed to get the equipment to do it. At a glance, the kid didn't seem to have much on him. Not even a phone!
He closed the folder and set it back down on the table. "Really?" he asked, "'Congratulations, it's a boy'?"
Danny's cheeks turned a bit red as his gaze shifted to the folder. "Well, yeah. You're stuck with me now until I can get you into good habits and a healthier schedule."
"That implies that you're planning on leaving."
Danny shrugged, all his confidence now fading away. Is this what he's really like? "Well, I mean, I'm sure you don't want me sticking around at all, let alone for a while."
Dick frowned and looked back at the black folder and the binder sitting on his coffee table. God, his apartment's a mess! He smiled at Danny. "My name's Richard, but everyone calls me 'Dick'. You can stay in the guest room."
Danny lit up like a fucking Christmas tree. "Really?"
"Yep. You went to all this work, it'd be a shame if it all went to waste."
The grin on Danny's face was more than worth the security risk that he now posed. "You won't regret it, Mr. Dick!"
Dick smiled back at him, "Please, drop the formalities. We're cousins, apparently."
Was he attached? No. He wouldn't allow himself to get attached. Sure, maybe he was letting this kid - he really needs to start calling him Danny - stay with him for a while, but he wasn't going to get attached. Getting attached meant losing him. Dick wasn't sure he'd be able to survive if he lost someone again.
...damn it.
***
First order of business, now that Danny was officially Dick's - why would he willingly go by that nickname? - ward/cousin, Danny was going to make sure he got some sleep. Today was Dick's day off, so Danny had sent him to his room to take a much needed nap. The man was basically dead on his feet and Danny would be damned if he let him wander around this mess of an apartment with blurry vision.
The second thing he did, once he was sure Dick was asleep, was start to clean up. The place was a stereotypical bachelor's pad, complete with questionable stains in the carpet, rips in the cushions, dishes piled up in the sink, and old take-out on every table and counter. Gross.
He made quick work of the old take-out by throwing it all away and hitting it with a very small and controlled ectoblast. He was so glad Dick had disposable gloves on hand.
The dishes were the next thing he handed. The water was cleaner than in Gotham, so he didn't worry about washing the dishes by hand when they all didn't fit in the dishwasher. He dried the ones he'd hand washed before putting them away. Dick had no organisation in his cupboards, so Danny fixed that, too.
The fridge and freezer weren't too bad. Sure, the dairy products had all expired and most of the food was freezer bitten, but none of it was moldy yet and the appliance itself was in perfect working order. He'd have to go shopping later.
Danny had never liked cleaning, but he'd had to when his parents refused to follow any OSHA laws or Lab Safety courses. So, when he found the cleaning supplies, he took a deep breath and began scrubbing the bathroom. It wasn't too bad, thank god, and was already fairly clean. It was quick and he was able to move on very quickly.
The counters, tables, walls, and tile and wooden floors were all easy to clean with a wet rag and a broom. He wasn't going to even try saving the rug because it looked well beyond the point of no return. The couch and chair cushions could be sticked up, but he didn't have a sewing needle and thread with him.
The last thing he did before taking his backpack into the room he'd been given was to write down a shopping list and leave it on the counter. It wasn't a lot, just food and some dishes and toiletries. He'd have to figure out with Dick a way to pay rent, too, but that was a later Danny problem. He'd tired himself out and was still running on pretty much empty. So, he allowed himself to fall asleep. He'd check on Dick when he woke up.
Part 4 Part 6
Tag List:
@flame-343 @ghestie93 @anarinette @aglmry @peachtreewriter @evix-syne666 @loudlypanickinginvenezolano @lumosfeather18581
#part 5#dc x dp crossover#dp x dc#dc x dp#dcxdp#danny phantom#dick grayson#nightwing#death is a legal barrier#work life balance#but it's being explained by a hypocrite 7 years younger than him#danny is going to make sure dick takes care of himself#dick is getting attached#danny needs a hug#dick needs a hug#dick needs help#danny's here to help#is it really adoption if the kid shows up one day and just doesn't leave?#a bit short but that's okay
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𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐒 .ᐟ
your pregnancy cravings are a bit . . . over the top.
starring. gojo satoru, choso kamo, nanami kento x fem! reader
heads up. none, just jjk men being baffled at your pregnancy cravings
note. i just have a thing for jjk men being dads, idk maybe it's how jjk should've ended :/
──────〃★ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔
"'m sorry baby, can you try to say that again — slower this time," he shakes his head, eyes widening the slightest bit at what he had just heard.
you look at him, dead in his eyes and muttered out a, "i want chicken noodle chocolate milk soup," gojo had to cock his head to the side at your unbearable request — he knew it was in the months where the cravings would get a little out of the box, but chicken noodle soup with chocolate milk as the soup?
he parted his lips to speak, but nothing came out so he pursed his lips shut again. the second time he tried speaking, the only sound that came out was a soft breath. you furrowed your brows at his reaction, hormones flaring as you took a bit of offense at his reaction.
gojo raised up his brows, realizing how the corner of your lips tugged down deeper at the passing second. immediately he approached you on the couch. getting on his knees to your eye level in front of you, "no, no baby, i didn't mean to upset you, 'm just a little surprised, that's it. i'll get you a bowl, 'kay?"
"you don't love me anymore?" you questioned him dramatically, and gojo almost chuckled knowing that this was part of the pregnancy journey — but seeing how serious you were, he didn't dare to even break into a small smile.
he shakes his head, "of course i love you, baby. more than anything, you know?" you narrowed your eyes at him as he tugs your hair behind your ear, "'m going to get you that chicken noodle soup, okay?"
finally, you nod your head at him, mumbling out a small and meek, "thank you, baby."
──────〃★ 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎
"what?" he asks in shock. he gently brought himself up into a sitting position — blinking his eyes before staring deeply into yours, "tuna and . . . blueberry jam?"
"'ts what the baby wants," you shrug cheerfully, feeling no shame in your undeniably weird craving combination, "tuna sashimi and blueberry jam," just at the thought of it, your mouth visibly watered.
on the other hand, choso could only gape silently at your statement, "the baby? why does the baby want tuna and blueberry jam? the baby's being weird. don't you think we should get them checked up? might be something wrong," choso concludes innocently, his brows furrowed as he scoots over to you, his hand rubbing the small bump on your stomach.
his innocence gnawed a chuckle from your throat, choso's mind in a turmoil as you prompted to laugh at his state of wariness and confusion, "cho, 'ts normal 'ts called pregnancy cravings — it happens a lot."
upon hearing your reassurance, his shoulders relaxed a bit, "pregnancy cravings . . ? i should get you tuna and blueberry jam then, the baby wants it."
you nodded vigorously, "can i come with you to the store? i wanna grab some snacks too," choso nodded mutely, intertwining his fingers with yours before raising your hand to his lips.
"mhm, i'd like both of your company," he muffles out into your skin.
──────〃★ 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎
"good morning, darling," nanami rubbed his eyes — a little confused to why you were up earlier than usual, with a pink colored bunny motive apron on, standing right by the kitchen stove with your face all scrunched up in apparent frustration, "why are you up so early?"
you didn't answer him, the vivid crackling coming from the hot pan in front of you earning every ounce of your attention. nanami tries to put two-by-two, his eyes roaming around the kitchen area.
a box of half-filled eggs. a plate of sunny side up eggs on a plate. cooking oil. peanut butter.
wait, peanut butter? he silently approaches you, wrapping an arm around your waist carefully — making sure he wasn't applying too much force on your bump nor you, "what are you craving?" he questions, his free hand turning off the stove.
finally, you look up at him, "jus' runny sunny side up eggs with peanut butter. but i couldn't get the yolk to run like i want it to," you softly whine at him.
he chuckles, kissing the back of your head, "i'll make it for you, and you," he states, "are going back to bed until then."
nanami wasted no time in slowly guiding you back towards your shared bedroom, tucking you in the bed — making you as comfortable as you could be. his slender fingers tangled in your hair as he tries to lull you back to sleep, "i'll wake you when it's ready," he whispers softly, leaning down to kiss your forehead.
"thank you, ken."
he shakes his head, "it's my duty."
© shoyudon 2024 . no copying or reposting allowed !
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jjk fluff#fluff#gojo satoru#gojo satoru x reader#gojo fluff#choso kamo#choso kamo x reader#choso fluff#nanami kento#nanami kento x reader#nanami fluff#this is how everything should've ended#gojo's back tho idk about the other two . . .#i miss nanami :(
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