#okay first of all people should stop this
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under the web | p.sh.
PAIRING. officemate!sunghoon x fem!reader
SUMMARY. there's something about the way people seemed to scurry about whenever park sunghoon from the IT department would be coming to whichever area of the office. that's something that would be all because of you, his lovely officemate. your constant teasing and mockery of that one thing you know about park sunghoon made it seem to reach the headlines, and park sunghoon was determined to let you know that you're not the boss here.
CONTENTS. smut, some angst, some fluff. smut with plot. not beta-read. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.
SMUT WARNINGS. making out, humiliation, implied dom vs. dom dynamics, dirty talk, slight exhibition, curses, virginity, unprotected sex (please practice safe s), reader is a jealous menace (a bit stalker-ish), mentions of manga, mentions of other members, if i forgot some, lmk!
WORD COUNT. 4.1k
AUTHOR'S NOTE. this will be my first ever sunghoon fic after a long while! i did take a hugeee slump after writing ( and had never been so inspired to write oneshots until now. and i'm such a sucker for glasses hoon and this is the product of it. thank you so much for reading! <3
MY LIBRARY. REQUESTS ARE OPEN!
It was an annoying morning.
Or well, for you, it was annoying. For you had to witness a group of interns gushing over the "guy with rolled sleeves and glasses making his coffee," and you scoffed when they mentioned that he looked like an Americano drinker, which, in their words, made him more attractive.
You rolled your eyes, the guy that they were talking about never liked Americano. In fact, his black instant coffee had the same amount, if not more, of cream added to his stainless steel coffee tumbler.
How did you know about that, though?
One thing about you was that you knew Park Sunghoon very well. He was the Class Salutatorian of Batch 2023, bachelor's in Information Technology. It was pretty impressive, if you were to ask everyone else. Park Sunghoon was immediately hired by the company that you are working in, and while you can say that Sunghoon did deserve both the position and the benefits, you couldn't help but feel like he didn't deserve the attention men and women alike were pouring him.
Of course, if anything, it should be you showering him attention. But, you wouldn't do that. Not when you're Y/N Y/L/N. You're the darling of the company, the sweetheart, so to speak. Because even though you cannot be of the same level as that of talent, knowledge, and skill which Sunghoon possess along with his looks, you were a pretty hardworking person.
Being in the Marketing Department also had its hardships, and while you still pray for the day commoners stop shunning down your bachelors, you are able to supply yourself with your needs and wants just by exerting everything you've learned in business and people-speaking.
But there was something about Park Sunghoon that makes him your own thesis.
Your own skill in building relationships didn't seem to work on him as much as you had hoped. Okay, let's admit it, you had taken a liking into Park Sunghoon. The quiet IT Specialist that exuded looks that were enough to make women fall to their knees.
A little bit of chit-chat here and there, some subtle glances and light touches, you were still far from the starting line. Park Sunghoon still hadn't reciprocated at least a fraction of your advancement towards him.
And by now, you're almost as helpless as it could be as you're munching on your own lunch, eyes over the cubicle of the IT department, watching how Sunghoon eats his sandwich, gaze never leaving his computer as he typed in codes with his other hand.
"How's the thing with Mr. Cold guy doing?" Sunoo would nudge your side as he caught you staring at Sunghoon for the nth time today.
You rolled your eyes for the nth time today as well, "He's so annoying."
"Now, he's annoying? Please, Y/N, cut yourself some slack. You need to get humbled, too, you know?" The blonde boy laughed as he sipped on his coffee.
"I just don't know how he hasn't caught up on it yet," you groaned, stabbing your fork on the penne pasta that you had on your lunchbox, "I've been doing a lot! How come he's still oblivious!"
"That, or he knows and just doesn't want to do anything."
You furrowed your eyebrows at Sunoo, "What do you mean?"
"Please, you're practically throwing yourself at him, it's a miracle how he hasn't caught up on yet."
"Or, he's a virgin."
Sunoo laughed, "Maybe,"
A loud thud on your desk was heard throughout the department as you placed your lunchbox down, "I'll talk to him."
"Again?" Sunoo looked at you, bewildered. "And, while he's working?"
"What, can't he handle a little distraction?"
"With you almost pushing your boobs towards his face? I think not."
"You know what? Fuck you." You flipped your best friend off, making him laugh as he ate his tteokbokki happily, ready to see you in your downfall yet again.
You, on the other hand, were determined. Straightening your slacks and blouse, grabbing your laptop, you made your way over to the IT Department, greeting everyone along the way while making a beeline straight to Sunghoon.
"Hi," you greeted.
Sunghoon hummed, his eyes still not leaving his screen.
"I mean to come to you to help me with a feature on the application that we're using?"
The boy glanced at you, his chewing coming to a slow halt.
"What about it?"
"Oh, I was hoping that I can access the Network's files? I've forgotten my flash drive at home and I only have access to some of the files but it would be in Sunoo's disk."
Sunghoon flashed you an impressed look at your terms, at the bare minimum.
"It'd be against company policy to allow you to access other people's disks without their consent, Ms," Sunghoon cleared his throat, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, "and besides, aren't you friends with Mr Kim, anyway? Why wouldn't you ask him directly?"
"Uh, well..." you trailed off, "well, Sunoo also has the copy of this file on his flash drive, and coincidentally, he has also forgotten it at home!"
The boy raised an eyebrow at you. He was not buying it, you thought.
But your thoughts were proven wrong as Sunghoon swivelled in his chair, clicking on the multiple tabs open until he had manipulated the system for the time-being upon your request.
Your hands glanced on his hands, so dainty, long, and pretty. You wondered how it would feel around your neck, or in your pussy.
"It'll be open only for your access, Ms," Sunghoon said, looking up at you, "I'll be resetting it to company's default after forty-five minutes. Would that be enough time for you to get your files?"
You nodded, "Yes, thank you,"
"Do you have anything else for me to help with?" Sunghoon looked at you with a raised brow, making you blush.
"N-No, not that I know of, thank you, Sunghoon," you smiled at him.
He merely nodded before opening his coding software, clearly blocking you out from all his senses as he returned to eating his sandwich and work.
You pursed your lips, inhaling a large breath as you excused yourself from his cubicle, greeting yet another group of people acknowledging your presence as you made your way out of their department.
You were not expecting what you are seeing.
Not at all.
Whatever it was, there seems to be a glitch in the system as you also had an access to Sunghoon's drive.
You see, it was not your fault you were a bit nosy over your crush. You had taken a liking in him, and maybe, you think, there may be some stuff about him in his drive that could let you know a little more about him.
If not him, then, maybe, technology, his trusted friend, could help you.
You've seen his curriculum vitae, all the data he's working with, his clients, as well as a folder of his personal stuff which included torrented movies.
You laughed, his degree really has his perks.
You were so close to clicking off the movie folder named "O", but as you clicked on the next folder, named "P," you gasped at the number of porn videos were downloaded into the folder.
And all of them had the same theme: office sex.
It maybe too much, but in your mind, it made sense, when you were noticing how each of the female partners had the same features as you. Smirking to yourself, you glanced a look at the IT Specialist, bingo.
Surprised would be an understatement when Sunghoon entered the pantry as he went through his usual routine: leave his things at his desk, make his creamy coffee, work, leave to buy Subway for lunch, work, leave at 5:30 PM sharp.
He was surprised when the first people in the pantry left as he entered the room, furrowing his eyebrows when he heard faint words such as, "porn," "boundaries," and "couldn't he have had downloaded it in his own laptop?"
Now, Sunghoon may have been overthinking. His quiet life at work was already enough for him. But there was something bugging him for the first time in his life as he placed water in his stainless cup, especially when after making his coffee, no one would even dare look at him as he made his way to his cubicle, men and women, alike, swivelling their chairs to move farther from him, as if he were a plague.
Sunghoon rolled his eyes, it was getting to his nerves.
And if it weren't for Jake, his only friend in the department, who initially swivelled his chair away form Sunghoon, but then decided to swivel back as Sunghoon didn't even stand up for lunch, who told him about the rumours that spread about him, he wouldn't have known, and there was only one person who would have accessed his files.
You.
He snickered at the story Jake was telling him, and left Jake to his imagination whether the story was true or not, only giving him a shrug when the older did try to confirm to him.
"Believe what you want," Sunghoon responded, typing aggressively on his keyboard, "besides, I think you have, since you initially scooted away from me."
"Look, man," Jake scooted closer, whispering, "if it's not true, I could tell it to them, you know? I don't want them to think of you as some horny teenager who doesn't know about work boundaries."
"As if they're going to believe you," Sunghoon curtly responded before pressing a key harshly before looking at his friend, "if it came from Y/N, no one would even bat an eye at you."
"Y/N? Why her?"
"Only she had access to my files yesterday. Wouldn't it be too much of a coincidence if the story only spread now?" He chuckled, amused.
"So, it's true?"
Sunghoon shrugged again.
"Are you going to do something to address it?"
"Address it? What for? They already think I'm some horny dude, anyway."
"Well," Jake licked his lips, "just send me the stashes next time, too, okay?"
Sunghoon laughed.
Your plan was working.
A lot of people had taken their distances from Park Sunghoon. Making you think you're progressing at your plan to keep people away from him.
You can't help it. As long as there were hindrances in your way towards Sunghoon, you think there would be little chances to make your advances to him. You had yet to tell Sunoo, but you know that he was already aware of the rumour, and he would ask you about it after his client events.
So, while everyone had left Sunghoon alone in the pantry, that was your cue to enter the pantry. Making your way as calmly as possible to the counter as possible, you placed your food on the microwave, heating your breakfast as Sunghoon was stirring his drink in his cup.
"I never took you as the guy," you sighed, faking sympathy, getting more annoyed as you never got any reaction from the boy.
"I was expecting more from you, Mr. Salutatorian, I'm sure you know about policy since you were so high and mighty about it when I tried to get into Sunoo's files," you continued, watching his every reaction.
But he remained stoic. And that irked you.
You were about to open your mouth when the microwave had beeped, making you jump and take your food, frustrated over the fact that Sunghoon was ignoring you. Forgetting that it was still hot and you didn't retrieve the mittens beside it, you burned your fingers, finally getting Sunghoon's attention.
He discarded his coffee and immediately went his way over to you, grabbing a hold of your hand before examining your fingers, his eyes never leaving it as he tried to suck on it in attempts of both soothing the wound and seducing you.
Your breath hitched, making you look at him. What the hell was he doing?
"S-Sunghoon?"
He smirked at you as he pushed your fingers to his mouth, wetting your pointer finger with his warm tongue, only for him to retract it and swirl it on the tip of it.
"There's one menace between the two of us," Sunghoon whispered as he pulled away, leaning in to you, "and it's not gonna be you."
You let out a breath you didn't know you held as he pulled away and made his way out of the pantry.
Weeks later, you found yourself mad at Park Sunghoon.
Because after the incident at the pantry, he seemed to be hovering in your space more times than you would like. And while it did seem the best thing for you, it wasn't. For Sunghoon was not only hovering, but he made sure his presence was made known whenever he was around.
Holding on your waist, rubbing his crotch against your bum, rolling his sleeves whenever he knew you looked at him – while keeping his unbothered expression at his face.
Other than that, you were thinking he was losing his game as another person had suddenly took a liking into you. Food in carton boxes at your table by the morning you come in to work, and while you had hoped that it were him, your hopes were shut down as fifteen minutes after you had arrived from work, only had then Sunghoon, too.
Flowers were also hard to miss every week. There was a different flower every week, the whole department gushing whenever you grab a stem on your desk. And while you had hoped it was Sunghoon, again, you looked at his desk and see him in his natural habitat: working and face straight to the computer.
By this time, you had grown infuriated. Because you felt like he was toying with you. Especially when he was not paying you any attention at the Thanksgiving Party your office had held after reaching more than the targeted quarterly sales, and it was because of you! Why wasn't he giving you any attention?
Blame it on the alcohol in your system, and your innate drive to prove something to Sunghoon, a trait of yours that you have acquired overtime, you made your way towards the guy who was alone at the bar, nursing his on the rocks with his finger dancing around the rim of the glass.
"Aren't you going to congratulate me?" you spat, annoyed.
Sunghoon turned on his seat, smirking at you, "For being the best employee?"
"What else!"
He chuckled, taking a sip on his drink, "Congratulations, princess,"
You scoffed, "That's it?"
He grinned, "What, you'd want me to kneel for you?"
You were stunned. "You know what? Whatever, Sunghoon, I feel like I'm just a game to you, anyway."
And maybe that's what did it for Sunghoon, because the moment you uttered those words, you found yourself being pulled by your wrist outside of the ballroom you were in by none other than Park Sunghoon himself.
"Let go of me, Sunghoon!" you said as you tried to escape from his grasp.
But Sunghoon did not budge, he was determined on making you regret what you say. He pushed the fourteenth floor button, the floor where he was staying, and even though it took quite a while to get to the floor, Sunghoon didn't even try to lay his hands on you, it was better for him to do it on his bed, anyway.
Because you deserved it.
The moment the elevator doors opened, you found yourself being pulled to his room, with heavy breaths as he discarded his suit jacket on the couch, he turned around and met you in a passionate kiss, surprising both you and Sunghoon.
Ah, if there was one thing you didn't know about Sunghoon? Was the fact that he was a virgin. He never had any relationships in the past, and it had only been you whom he was very attracted by. So, it was bound to happen, perhaps. Sunghoon giving you his virginity in the hopes of you reciprocating his feelings.
But Sunghoon was a realistic man, of course, he knew that he was just your own entertainment. Having a lot of suitors here and there, he knew he had to step up his game.
That meant, letting you see through his drive because he was scared of doing the first move of asking you out on a proper date, because everyone was always first in doing so.
A few occurrences later, Sunghoon had decided on levelling his courtship up by bringing you food to your table the moment he gets to work. His bag still on his hand as he ordered your favourite meal as he sped placing it on your table before making his coffee.
Sunghoon had started realising that you liked flowers, so he had brought it upon himself to at least give you flowers every week, keeping it anonymous before he finally musters enough confidence to tell you that it was him who was giving you the gifts.
Not Jake, not Jay, and most certainly not Heeseung.
So, he hopes he had translated all of his misunderstood feelings into the kiss, cupping your jaw as he pushes his tongue in your mouth, swallowing the moan that you had blessed him.
"You drive me so fucking crazy, Y/N," he groans into the kiss, "accusing me of playing with you when you were the one who started this in the first place." He trails off, his lips pressing onto your mouth up and down before stopping by the skin near your collarbones for him to suck.
You let out a whimper, too lost in the feeling of his lips on your skin, "You drive me so fucking crazy, too," you start, letting your head fall back to have the boy kiss more of your skin, "I don't know what's on your mind most of the time." Sunghoon had found your sweet spot below your ear, making you gasp.
The boy hummed, wrapping his hands around your waist, pulling your body flush against his, slowly rolling his hips forward so you could feel his hard cock pressed against you, "Well, it's about time you know that you take over the expanse of my mind, princess."
You were already soaking wet at this point, basking in how Sunghoon looked today, you swear you could feel yourself salivating over how he presents himself. You pull his face away from your neck, locking your lips in an uncoordinated kiss. "I need you, Sunghoon."
Sunghoon groaned, kissing you for a moment longer before abiding to his girl's needs. His cock was aching, and you needed him. It was time to cut the chase.
"My needy little slut," Sunghoon growls as he teased you by rubbing your clit over your panties, and when he slid his hands through her folds, he was met by pleasing wetness, making him chuckle, "You've been trying to fool everyone with how much of a sweetheart you are, angel," he hummed, rubbing his nose on the crook of your neck, "but you really are a menace. Wanting her Sunghoon to give all of his attention to her,"
"Y-Yes," You moaned, grinding your hips on his fingers, "M-My Sunghoon,"
And when he motions to remove his glasses, you tap his wrist and shook your head, making him realise you never want his glasses off, making him chuckle.
"You liked hearing it, don't you?" Sunghoon inquires as he pushes you to the bed, pulling you over the edge of it as he bites on your panties, pulling it down to pool on your ankles, "You love the idea of me being yours, don't you, Y/N?" He smiles as he sinks his finger in you, curling as you clench around you.
"Yes, I do - shit, Sunghoon!" You managed to say, "I did everything because I only want you! Only you!"
Sunghoon docks his head in between your thighs to hide the blush creeping to his cheeks before pressing hot kisses into the expanse of your inner thighs, fluttering light kisses as his lips made its way to your folds, kissing it before he gives kitten licks to your bud.
Your back arches, satisfying Sunghoon with his little experimentation. He, then, soon, pushes another finger in as he started swirling his tongue on your clit, alternating between licking his tongue flat from your hole up to your clit, making you thrash your legs everywhere.
He moaned when you clamped your legs around his face, urging him to continue his movements, "M' close, Hoon," you whispered, one of your hands leaving the sheets to tangle in his newly-cut hair, and with one more curl of Sunghoon's fingers, you were already tumbling over the edge, your cries of his name falling from your mouth.
"God, you're so beautiful, Y/N," Sunghoon whispers as he cleans you off with his tongue, and when he was done, he pushes himself up as he unbuckles his belt and removes his trousers, discarding the article at some part of the room.
"I wanna ride you," You confess, making Sunghoon blush again, "oh, are you... is this your first time?" You asked, your eyes widening slightly as Sunghoon replied with a nod.
Your heart almost burst at his confession, making you sit up and pull him into a slow kiss, "I want to see how you'd look so damn sexy sitting on my cock, Y/N," Sunghoon breathes, "but I want- I need-"
"Take your time with me, Hoon."
A breath escapes you when Sunghoon finally gets you out of your dress, his hands immediately pinching at your nipple. And without another word, Sunghoon lifts your leg and lines himself to your entrance. And with a heavy breath in, he pushes in slowly, the roll of his hips feeling delicious until he's fully buried inside you, low moans heard throughout the room.
"I, fuck, Y/N," Sunghoon starts, groaning instead as you clench around him. Sunghoon hovers over you, his arms on either side of your head before resting his forehead against yours so he could look into your eyes, "God, I love you so much, Y/N."
Before Sunghoon ever regrets he had confessed out of nowhere, you had already pushed your lips on his hungrily, meeting his thrusts, you let out a whine as Sunghoon placed your legs over his shoulders, reaching deeper of you, the same time he rubs slow circles on your clit in time with his harsh thrusts.
"God, you feel so fucking amazing, Y/N," he breathes, earning a chuckle from you as you say, "You're fucking me so good, Hoon,"
Sunghoon smiles at your continuous use of his nickname, before his eyebrows furrow as he lets out a breathless moan as he hit your g-spot, making you squeal, "Jesus, I'm not gonna last much longer!" you say, and you were quick to wrap your legs around his waist, aiming to feel him closer.
"Me either, darling," he whispers, "come with me, please?"
And with a few more thrusts, you feel yourself coming on him, your toes curling, back arching, eyes almost rolling at the back of your head, as your nails rake down Sunghoon's back from his nape. Your walls clench around his cock, making him also reach his climax. He cuts your moans as Sunghoon pulls you to him for a hungry kiss as he empties himself in you.
He slows his thrusts down as he helps you come down from your highs, his lips attached again to your jaw down to your neck, peppering light kisses. And sooner, Sunghoon pulls out and rolls onto his back, his arms around your waist to make you roll on top of him.
A silence was heard in the room as you mindlessly traced irregular shapes on the expanse of Sunghoon's pale skin. He feels like his heart is about to explode from mixed emotions, having the girl of his dreams on top of him, his virginity in your hands – but, at the end of the day, he's unsure about your feelings for him.
However, one thing's for sure: you were all Sunghoon had ever wanted and needed, no matter how much the world can prevent him from doing so.
"I mean every word I said," Sunghoon whispers, kissing your hair, a silent affirmation to the thousand words running in your head.
You giggled, "I feel like I'd look good bouncing on your cock, too, Sunghoon."
"N-Not that.." Sunghoon blushed, "I am really crazy for you, Y/N, but you know, we could just pretend it never happened and think this is a one time thing."
"That's so unfair of you," you say, looking up and leaning your chin on his chest, "because I'd rather have you bringing over lunch and flowers every time if that meant having you every day."
Sunghoon visibly relaxed, smiling at you warmly, "So, it's forever."
"It is."
© acciojaeyun, 2024.
#park sunghoon#sunghoon#enhypen#sunghoon smut#park sunghoon smut#enhypen smut#sunghoon x reader#enhypen x reader#enhypen fanfiction#enha fanfiction#enha smut#sunghoon fanfiction#ksmutsociety#kpop smut#kpop fanfiction#sunghoon au#sunghoon imagine#enhypen hard hours#enhypen soft hours#enha hard hours#enhypen hard thoughts#enha soft hours#enhypen soft thoughts#sunghoon imagines#enhypen imagines#enhypen imagine#park sunghoon x reader
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domestic headcanons
– tales of the voracity pathstrider
✎𓂃 ambiguous relationship (oh my god they were roommates); living together; word vomit; incoherent scenarios; ooc aven probably. i offered my exp mats to gepard instead and now i have to grind traces all over again, maybe i should build clara while i’m at it (losing this particular 50/50 has driven me insane istg)
after aventurine’s endless pestering, you finally agree to move in with him. he’s got a whole block all to himself, so what’s you temporarily claiming a room going to change?
the moment you agree, and by that i mean the very second you agree, he’s going to arrange for people to move your stuff
you just need to move yourself over
he’s not going to let you do any hard labor, that’s what the grunts are for
it’s so quick? like, it only took the morning to have everything packed, moved, and unpacked
when you get to your desk the first thing you do is clutter it up
but there’s so much space?
you just can’t stack your stuff enough so that it’s snug the way you like
you try, but all you’ve managed to do is make a paper fortress on one side of your desk
why do the senior managers have so much space?
but you soon realize you didn’t really need to finish building your wall of documents
because your boss sits on your desk whenever he fancies annoying you
so there’s your clutter for the other side
though you still leave a few of your spare scarves there just so it’s not completely empty
a little out of place, but you have nothing else bulky enough
it’s okay, that corner of your desk is often occupied by a certain someone anyway
surprisingly, living with aventurine isn’t unpleasant at all. maybe it’s because you’re almost always within reach now, he’s started bothering you less – instead, he’ll do his work in your office. he has a perfectly good office of his own (arguably comfier too), but he insists on sitting next to you.
frankly, you are tempted to kick him out, but this is his place. you shouldn’t try to kick out your host landlord. and it’s not like he’s actively preventing you from concentrating. you usually leave him be, but you might’ve accidentally gotten used to it – when he’s not around, you feel like something’s missing. just a little bit, though.
he can and will always poke his head over to see what you’re working on
“arranging your meetings, go away.” you push his face back towards his laptop
“hey, leave 6pm to 8pm free!” he whines, as always, he’s trying to get a dinner date(?) with you
“no can do, you’re having dinner with mr diamond.”
he will throw a hissy fit
“why must it always be meal times? i want to eat with you!”
will complain and complain and complain even if you ignore him
you give him a flat “i will be present as well.”
you’re so bloody infuriating
he stares at you for a whole minute. and then he closes his laptop
you look at him. what is he trying to do now?
“not what i meant.” he gently whacks you over the head with the device, “you and i. dinner. alone. get it?”
normally you stand your ground and make him go through with these meetings
but sometimes you cave and indulge him
this is one of those times
“fine, i’ll push back your meeting with the media department tomorrow.”
you see literal flowers around him as he gets his way
well, not exactly his way, because if he had his way he would be free today
a compromise for tomorrow is good enough, he supposes
he will bring you out to lunch and dinner every day if he could
if only you’d stop telling him you technically don’t need to eat and just go along with it
and if only you’d stop scheduling every. single. important. meeting. during. meal. times.
still, he finds it amusing to read your face whenever you’re in those meetings with him
the only good thing about them, really
because you will have the tiniest furrow in your eyebrows when you eat something you don’t like
and it’ll last until the taste goes away (which is usually the entire meeting)
or you’ll have the most serene expression ever (though it’s more neutral than anything, really) when you find something you like
loves it when you try to not make it obvious that you like a particular dish because you’re not discreet at all
that is all you will eat for the rest of the meeting
you are given your own room, but more often than not you find yourself in aventurine’s room at night.
mostly because he drags you away from your desk – no, scrap that, it’s only because he drags you away from your desk. otherwise you would’ve kept working. or maybe gone and did some combat training. or anything but sleep, really.
you soon realize he likes cuddling you when he sleeps
this is something you’ll never deny him if he asks
in fact, he doesn’t even need to ask nowadays
you show up in his room everyday at around the same time
if he wants a nap in the middle of the day, you’ll also be there
you notice how much more quality rest he gets when you’re by his side
and how much less nightmares bothered him compared to before
(maybe you should try casual sleeping, too?)
whenever you try to slip out of his death grip to get some documents, or to use the bathroom, or for water, he will quietly ask you where you’re going
in a very, very slurred, sleepy way
you will try to explain, and all he’ll tell you as you wrench yourself out of his arms is a quiet “stay”
how are you supposed to go if he says that while letting you go?
good luck if you’re hoping to use the bathroom, most likely you’ll have to hold it in
otherwise, if you need anything else, your scarf-serpent can get it for you
although one time it returned with your documents in its mouth and drool all over it
then you had a rigorous session trying to teach them how to coil around things to pick them up
more like you had to learn, since they’re somewhat sentient extensions of you
on the off chance that you’ll be out for the night, you’ll leave your favorite scarf with him
it’s not as comforting as your person, but it does smell like you and feel like you
he’ll take it as a placeholder until you’re back :(
aventurine hates it when you’re out of office. whether it is to represent him, or to discuss matters with clients before you pass it onto him, he hates it when he’s alone at home.
odd, because he was so used to being on his own, and he was so certain he was going to be alone for the rest of his life.
this man will sit in your office regardless of your presence
your spare scarves keep him company
imagine his surprise when a bunch of faceless noodles slither onto him
he makes the connection very quickly
did not expect that every one of your scarves are mini leviathans
he thought there was only a few, and they move between scarves
a welcome surprise because he knows these huge little guys are friendly
those are the same guys that swallow monsters, so they’re actually not very friendly
but they’re friendly to him because they’re you
one of them will coil into a pile on his lap and rest its head on his thigh
and the others will be all around him
will slobber over him 100%
he will try to pet them, and will realize that they’re really affectionate with him
they will try to eat his hands
but, like, in a not alarming way
hold his hand in their maws but will not bite. only drool
when he pats the one who has his hand, it’ll let go
literally “that’s a weird looking dog” but there's more than ten of them
when you return from your errands, the first thing you see is aventurine dragging a bunch of your snakes along with him as he practically runs to greet you.
you wrap your arms around him as he jumps towards you, and you give him a few spins before setting him down again.
then you lower your scarf
you’re comfortable enough with him to not cover yourself up anymore
oh how he loves seeing your face, aeons, you have no idea
“guys.” you snap your fingers, and the creatures collapse back into inanimate fabric
you catch all of them, of course, then you open one arm for your boss
the best part (real)
he snuggles up against your side naturally
you lift him up easily even though both your hands are busy
he’s practically sitting on your forearm as you walk around the house
princess treatment
you’ll cuddle with him properly once you drop off your stuff
“ten minutes,” you tell him, “then i’ll have to get back to work.”
he will throw another hissy fit, like, “why are you busier than i am? i’m the boss!”
you pinch his nose and go: “exactly, mr aventurine”
instantly droops like a kicked puppy
he doesn’t even try to hide it
absolutely hates it when you’re formal with him in private even if you’re joking
feels like you’re back to square one all over again
“don’t call me that,” aventurine groans as he grabs your hair and tug at it like a toddler.
you glance at him. “displeased?”
“of course!” he tries to shake your head violently, but damn you and your stupid strength. “what happened to aven?”
you don’t respond
you’re busy tossing everything onto your chair and praying nothing falls off
he moves on to slapping your face lightly
“hey, hey!” as his hands smack and grab everything that’s touchable on your head
surprisingly, you let him
he might also pull on your scarf
and after a while, he’ll resort to rubbing his cheek against yours
“are you ignoring me…?”
you sit down on the couch and set aventurine in your lap. “impatient, are we?”
“can’t help it,” he doesn’t hesitate to bury himself into your embrace. “i hate when i’m alone…”
“aven…” you pat his back, knowing full well you’re falling for his tricks again. “there, there. should i just call it a day?”
“you would?” he asks, like a child receiving a gift for the first time, “really?”
“really.” you sigh as he tugs you down into spooning him, and you watch him tangle his limbs with yours.
eventually, you pull him closer to you. jeez, there’s just no way you can win against him, is there?
#honkai star rail#honkai star rail x reader#aventurine#aventurine x reader#ares's voracity pathstrider tales
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hi!! ngl i’ve never actually requested anything so im kinda nervous to do so but if it’s possible, do you think you could write something along the lines of eddie munson with like an anxious reader? maybe she has a panic attack and he’s there to help in the aftermath or just an overall anxious person. i know you’ve written something similar with the marauders so i hope that this is okay for me to request. i love love love ur writing!
Thank you for requesting lovely <3
cw: aftermath of panic attack
Eddie Munson x fem!reader ♡ 642 words
Eddie’s rambling hasn’t stopped since you sat down, but it’s become background noise for you, like ocean sounds or the music they play in grocery stores. You know well enough how to get yourself through this. His hand on your back is a steady, if somewhat frantic, reassurance.
“You okay?” Eddie asks, his rhythm slowing as you blow out a lungful of air, bending your head towards your knees. You hold up a weak thumbs-up, and it picks up again. “Shit, yeah, you’re okay, baby. You’ve got it.”
You feel bad that this is Eddie’s first time dealing with you like this, though it’s nice to be in his trailer and not at the mall or in a restaurant or something. His couch is familiarly uncomfortable, lumpy in places and nearly flat in others, and the air smells like weed and grease, the electric fan Wayne brings out for the summer months whirring diligently in the corner. You’re glad Wayne’s not home now, though someone should probably be around to comfort Eddie after he’s done comforting you.
“Anything I can do to help?” he asks again. “You want some water or something?”
This time, you nod. Your boyfriend all but springs up from the couch, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and hustling it back to you like he’s training to be one of the NASCAR pit stop people. You take it from him, rubbing the condensation from the bottle on the back of your neck before taking a sip. The chill is grounding. You rest your head back on your knees.
“You feeling better, sweetheart?” Eddie grabs another water bottle from the fridge once he sees what you did with the first, holding it to your neck. “You seem better. Sounding less like Darth Vader.”
You laugh a little, and he laughs back nervously.
“Yeah,” you say, “it’s mostly better now.”
He blows out a breath. “Phew, okay. Jesus. You’re a fucking champ, you know that?”
“Thanks,” you chuckle. “Sorry I put you through that.”
“I’m pretty sure I’m not the one who went through something just now, so consider your apology heard and nullified.” Eddie’s lips come down on the back of your head. “I’d tell you where to shove it, but I’m feeling kind of bad for you right now. Count your blessings.”
“Oh, I’m counting them.” You smile down into the semi-dark valley between your legs and chest, taking one more deep breath in and out before lifting your head. “Okay, I’m good.”
“Yeah?” As he pulls back to see you, your boyfriend doesn’t look so sure. His eyebrows are pulled up in the middle, freakishly huge eyes full of freakishly sweet worry. “Good enough for a hug?”
You hum your assent, and in the next second you’re in his lap. Eddie goes all the way, curving his body over yours as his arms wrap protectively around your back and his cheek squishes into yours.
“It scares me when you’re scared,” he admits.
“Sorry.”
“No—goddamnit, what did we say about that? You’re lucky you’re cute, I swear—don’t be sorry. Obviously it’s not your fault, I’m just sorry that happened to you. It seemed really fucking shitty.”
“It felt really fucking shitty,” you agree. “I’m wiped.”
“Honestly? Me too.” Eddie chuckles. “Nap?”
“Yes, please,” you say, but wriggle closer to him, preventing him from getting up. Eddie doesn’t seem to mind. He starts rubbing your back again, contemplative.
“You wanna sleep here, or on the bed?”
“Bed,” you answer immediately.
“...right. But are you gonna get up and go to the bed?”
You make a thoughtful humming sound, grasping him tighter. “Probably not. Maybe you could carry me?”
A sigh, long and dramatic. “Yeah, maybe I could.” Eddie’s hands move to grip you more securely, and he grunts as he stands. “You’re seriously lucky you’re cute, trouble.”
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x self insert#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fic#eddie munson hurt/comfort#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson scenario#eddie munson drabble#eddie munson blurb#eddie munson oneshot#eddie munson one shot#tw panic attack#stranger things#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fic#stranger things 4#stranger things x reader
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TEN THINGS F1 DRIVER Y/N L/N CAN’T LIVE WITHOUT — GQ.
— part of my maneater series.
Y/N (throwing her hat in the air with one hand and catching it in the other without looking): see? told you i could do it! not my only party trick.
Y/N: hi gq! i’m y/n l/n, formula one driver and i’m here to show you my ten essentials.
NUMBER ONE: IPAD
Y/N: first, has to be my ipad. this was my first big purchase and seeing my bank account being drained of that money almost caused a heart attack. but this bad boy helps me to organise my life, stops me from being bored on flights, keeps me in contact with my family and lets me write my notes. so yeah, thanks apple. also you guys should sponsor me.
NUMBER TWO: NOISE CANCELLING HEADPHONES
Y/N: i never used to travel a lot. when i was younger, my family couldn’t afford it so flying around a lot was a big shock to my system. obviously as in f1, drivers are required to fly to different races and it means i had to get over my fear of flying. these help a lot with that. these plus a spotify playlist made by my angsty teenage self will make me forget about the fact i’m flying. these are my favourite ones, i have multiple pairs just in case.
NUMBER TWO AND A HALF: MUSIC.
Y/N: i guess this sort of goes off the second one? but music. i keep trying to bribe the engineers to build a blue tooth radio in the car but to no avail. spotify has been my biggest supporter all of these years. i know i’m sponsored by them now but i have been using my account for almost seven years now? so my algorithm is perfection. it truly has helped me so much. i listen to music on the way to races, on the way back from races, in my house, outside my house, cleaning, cooking and even when i’m in the shower. yes, i’m a shower singer. once i get in there, i’m beyoncé!
OFF SCREEN VOICE: what was the last song you listened to?
Y/N: one second, let me see. it was the twilight soundtrack in particular decode by paramore. told you i was an angsty teen!
NUMBER THREE: EMERGENCY BAG
Y/N: okay this sounds bad, it’s not as much an emergency bag as in like medical supplies but more so like extra toothbrush, toothpaste, menstrual products, lotion and other stuff like that. i always carry this with me anywhere in case my suitcase goes missing. it has helped me and my friends out so many times so it’s definitely an essential for me.
NUMBER FOUR: HER CAMERAS.
Y/N: i picked up photography relatively recently and this was the starter camera that the guy in the shop recommended. so this is that camera. for this one, i vlog, which you guys might have seen and this is the camera i use for those videos. i actually don’t record my videos, one of my friends or family or colleagues or whoever will film and i will be in front of the camera. it’s my favourite part when i ask the camera person to reveal themselves and they do their own little introduction. i obviously provide the camera for it. which is this beauty right here.
OFF SCREEN VOICE: who has been your favourite person to film you?
Y/N: i have had a lot of people film me. my most recent being rihanna for my recent holiday vlog! so many people to the point that i genuinely don’t think i could choose a favourite. i mean, i’ve had my sister do it a lot so i guess i can choose her. she knows my angles best!
NUMBER FIVE: LIPGLOSS
Y/N: when i won my first championship and i kissed the camera, the amount of calls from makeup companies my manager received was actually obscene. i think i got so many comments on social media asking what makeup i use and how it stays on throughout the race! to be honest, i don’t always wear makeup but in the original video, i was wearing this fenty gloss. it’s in the shade fu$$y. so, yeah, at least no one can call me a gatekeeper! i always keep it on me. i feel a little more ready to face the world with lipgloss. now, i have my own fenty collection! so check that out.
NUMBER SIX: HER LUCKY SHOES.
Y/N: okay i know i say i’m not necessarily a superstitious person but these shoes have been with me from f3 until now. every race i’ve worn these, i’ve won. so i like having them around. i think they bring luck. i can’t wear them any longer as they’ve worn through the soles now. really annoying but we power through.
NUMBER SEVEN: WINGSTOP BLACK CARD
Y/N: i was really craving wingstop one night. so me and my sister were in london? i think and i vlogged our hunt for wingstop and they reached out to me to give me a black card. i know, isn’t it gorgeous? i was so happy. too bad i have to cut down on what i eat thanks to my nutritionist, but my siblings and friends love this thing.
NUMBER EIGHT: SKINCARE ROUTINE
Y/N: okay, so i’m trying to get more consistent with my skincare but it’s not necessarily working the way i want it to. however, i still stick to the basics. sunscreen, cleanser and moisturiser. i really like keeping my skincare on check as there is this unsaid rule that women have to wear makeup in their jobs and if i keep my skin looking good then i can skirt that rule. i love this cream in particular, it’s moisturising but very light on the skin. best of both worlds.
NUMBER NINE: NECKLACE
Y/N: this was given to me as a gift from my family when i turned eighteen. it was a necklace that i’d had my eye on for a very, very long time. they saved up for so long to buy it for me and it’s become my signature piece. i wear it around my neck constantly. it’s weird having it off my neck to show you.
(she fastens it around her neck quickly)
Y/N: now i feel normal again.
NUMBER TEN: MY PADDOCK PASS
Y/N: i am so bad with keeping my paddock pass on me. for people who don’t know what this is, this allows me access to the garage and things like that. i usually keep it around my neck because if its in my pocket or my bag i’ll forget. my assistant sometimes carries mine. i’m not going to show you my picture because it’s awful. i had woke up really early after no sleep and one of the staff had made me take the picture. now i am forced to wear this monstrosity at work. i keep it hidden as much as i can. last time, lando saw it and laughed so hard he cried so yeah.
author’s note: this was hard as i wanted to keep it as vague as possible so that you can relate it to your own maneater! i’m still taking questions/asks/requests so please send some in!
#jayde’s works ☆#maneater ꕤ#formula one x reader#f1 smau#f1 imagine#formula 1 x reader#f1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#f1 fanfic#formula one imagine#f1 texts#formula one smau#formula 1#formula one
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Hi! I was wondering if you could write a Hazbin Hotel x sad reader. Where the reader is just lying in their bed and hasn’t came out their room. And the Hazbin characters tries to give them comfort. If your not comfortable writing this then that’s totally fine 💗
RECLUSE—
ଘ fic
pairing :: hazbin hotel residents x gn!reader
wc :: 2.7k
note :: hi there! i hope this is what you were looking for and brings you some comfort if you're feeling down. i wasn't sure which characters you were looking for specifically so i did a little of each for the main hotel crew.
warnings :: reader is sad, isolation and pushing people away
“Good morning!” Charlie shouted, hands thrown in the air, a giant grin plastered on her face. “I have the per~fect morning planned for us. First, we’ll do our daily affirmations in our friendship circle, then we’ll try the trust fall exercises–this time without the egg boys–” her face wilted at the memory. Poor Tucker. “And then!” She immediately went back to her peppy-self, “I thought we could bake cookies!” She glanced at everyone who sat in the lounge area.
“Uh, we’re missing one.” Angel spoke, his body splayed across one of the couches as he casually scrolled through his phone.
“Y/N hassn’t come down yet.” Sir Pentious added, a few of the egg boys walking around him, seemingly playing a game.
“Oh!” Charlie looked confused for a moment, “Well, uh, that’s okay!” She walked over next to her girlfriend and sat down on the open seat of one of the couches. “We can wait.”
“I’m sure they’ll be down shortly.” Vaggie placed a hand on Charlie’s bouncy thigh to help ease her pent up excitement for the activities she had planned. All was fine until a few more minutes passed. Then those few minutes turned into thirty. Then thirty turned into an hour. Charlie and Vaggie shared a look.
“I’ll uh,” The princess stood, “I’ll just go check on them! To make sure everything is okay.” She nervously smiled before making her way to the stairs, Vaggie followed closely behind to accompany her.
“I’m sure everything’s perfectly fine.” She did her best to calm the blonde.
“You’re right!” Charlie smiled. “They probably just slept in a little. Nothing to worry about!” Once they reached your door, Charlie cleared her throat, adjusting her posture before knocking. A few raps of her knuckles on the dull door and nothing was heard in response. “Uh, Hello~! Wakey-wakey, Y/N!” A couple more knocks. “Are you in there?” Her question was hopeful though she couldn’t help the slip of concern. You had always been on time, happily participating in her exercises, and helping around the hotel. It was increasingly odd to not see you around. “Maybe they’re not at the hotel?” She turned to Vaggie.
The girl shook her head. “No one saw them leave.” The answer only caused Charlie to huff in a pout.
“Okay then.” She stood straight, eyes glimmering with determination. “If they won’t come out, then we’ll just go in!” She reached for the knob and grasped tightly.
“Wait, Charli–” The door was locked. She wiggled it a few more times, thinking maybe it was just stuck. The jostling grew more and more louder as she continued to try to open it. “Charlie, okay wait, stop.”
“Go away!” A muffled voice called from behind the door causing them both to pause. Your muffled voice.
“Y/N?” The blonde called out. “Uh, are you okay?”
“Please, just…” Your tone quieted. “Just leave.”
“Okay but I rea~lly think you should open the door! And we can talk! Or…” She nervously looked around, trying to come up with something. “Or~! you could join everyone downstairs! And we can, uh… We can…” She trailed off, eyes flitting to Vaggie.
“Maybe we should just give some space.” She suggested and Charlie sighed in response. Her head drooped.
“Yeah, okay.” They walked off, with more questions than answers, and worried expressions.
“I’m sure after today, things will be back to normal. Okay?” Vaggie side hugged Charlie.
Inside your room you laid in your bed. Everything felt heavy, swallowed up in darkness. You let the blankets cocoon you in their warmth as you lie there, unmoving. Unmotivated. Drowning in the gray clouds of your mind. Surely, a few days like this and you’d be out of your funk.
Nothing really put you there to begin with but you felt yourself becoming low-spirited over the past week. That morning, you knew it was impossible to get out of bed. You sunk further and further into the springed mattress, the lumps now cradling you and your sorrows. You heaved out a deep breath. Just a few days. And maybe, this dark storm will have passed.
“It’s been four days!” Charlie worriedly paced back and forth in front of the fireplace. “And after all we’ve been through together I think it’s time we step in!”
“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea, Sweetie.” Vaggie stood up, walking closer and placing a comforting hand on her girlfriend's shoulder. “When you ask to be left alone, sometimes you just gotta leave them alone.”
“Yeah, I don’t know. I’m with toots over there.” Angel gestured to Charlie, walking over with a drink in his hand. “I get wanting to shut out for a few days but not this long.” He leaned on the back of the couch.
“Perhapss they’re in need of ssome assistance?” Pentious’ tongue peaked out to end his words.
“Good idea, boss!” One of his egg boys shouted from the ground.
Charlie’s face lit up, eyes widening upon hearing his words. “It’s a GREAT idea!” She turned towards everyone, hands held out in excitement.
“No, Charlie!” Vaggie grabbed both her hands. “We already tried that and got told to leave.”
“Yeah, but that was you two.” Husk added, “And we know how you like to handle things.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?”
He rolled his eyes, “It means you don’t know how to read the situation.”
Vaggie was glaring at him fiercely when Angel straightened his back, “You know what, Kitty’s right.” He got closer. “Why don’t we try our hands at talking. Figure something from us might make ‘em feel better.”
“But the door’s locked.”
“Eh,” Angel waved his two right hands. “We’ll get 'em to open it.” He began walking to the stairs, Husk close behind him.
“And how exactly are we supposed to do that?” Husk asked.
“Oh, I got an idea.” He flashed a look before leading the bartender to his room. He made a short pit stop to pick up fat nuggets and then they made it to your room. A few knocks on your door and they were only answered with silence.
“Hey Y/N~!” Angel called out. “You know, it’s been so lonely without you around and I have someone here that’s been dying to see you!” As if on queue, nuggets made two cute squeals of delight.
“Really?” Husk narrowed his eyes at Angel. “You’re bribing them with the pig?”
Angel snapped to look at him. “Hey! Everyone loves this pig!” He sharply spoke in a low tone.
“Leave me alone!” They both snapped to stare at your door.
“We brought booze?” Angel tried again, suggesting Husk’s bottle of whiskey. Which may not have been the best idea considering the slow turn the cat gave him. Entirely offended with his mouth open.
“I don’t want your stupid cheap alcohol!” Why… You rolled your eyes, turning away from the door, Why! “Or your pig!” Why are you saying these things? “Just go! Away!” Your chest was filled with an abnormal pressure as you threw the blanket over your head, water brimming your eyes. You muffled the sobs into your pillow. Why are you feeling like this?
Angel and Husk left defeatedly, entering the lobby similar to how Vaggie and Charlie did the first time. Husk went behind the bar, not wanting to talk and Angel laid down on the red couch.
“Well?” Charlie almost knew the answer already but hoped for something better.
“Got nothing.” Angel moped. “Bribed ‘em with Nuggets and booze.” He turned to look at the group. “Nothing’ll work if we can’t get passed the door.”
“Then we must bring the show inside!” The radioed voice was cascading throughout the room as he appeared in the lounge area. Taking a seat in one of the chairs, he crossed his legs. “Sometimes a little jazz is all you need to reignite the light.”
“Oh no! No, no, no!” Vaggie was quick to stand in, “We can’t just invade their privacy!” She turned to the group. “I care for Y/N as much as all of you, but sometimes you need to respect them wanting space.”
“But aren’t you two the oness telling uss to be there for our friendss?” Pentious asked. “How can we comfort them by giving them sspace?”
“It’s called boundaries.” Her hands assisted the assertion of her words.
“Uh, Yeah, boundaries.” Angel mocked, “Smiles is gone by the way.” He pointed to the now empty seat as everyone snapped their heads to it. Vaggie slapped her hands to her face, letting out a frustrated groan.
Charlie nervously laughed before clasping her hands together. “Oh no.”
Alastor rose from murky obsidian shadows, revealing his everlasting sinister grin. His eyes slid over to the bed, brow raised once he saw a cluster of blankets. He spun his mic, walking over and waving his hand. The unused fireplace was suddenly lit and crackling, causing you to jolt.
“The fuck–?”
“Why Hello!” The sudden radioed cadence was all you needed to hear. You rolled your eyes. “Closing away like this is no way to present yourself!” He leaned forward. You noticed the soft soothing trill of jazz in the background, no doubt brought on by the man beyond your blanket barrier. “Where’s the joy in being locked away in this room?”
“Will you just–” You hastily uncovered yourself and sat up. “Get out!” The glow of the flames flickered against your skin as you sought out the intruder.
“Don’t you look swell!” His incessant grin was accompanied with an overt blink. You groaned, forcefully lying back down in a huff against your pillow. Glared glued to the ceiling.
“Why can’t anyone understand that I want to be left alone!”
Alastor walked over to the fire, a chair and an end table appeared with a cup of coffee. He took a seat and grabbed his cup. “Why be alone when there’s so much to do outside!”
You released a heavy sigh. “What’s the point…” Your voice came out in a strained whisper. Throat knotting as you struggled to swallow away your swollen tongue.
Al took a sip from his mug, “My my, what a depressing thing you are! I’m nearly getting flashbacks.”
“Alastor…” You felt your eyebrow twitch, “With every single drop of the draining patience I have left. Get. The fuck. Out.”
Your words had zero effect on him, “But I’m here to help, my friend!”
“Oh please.” You scoffed, shaking your head. “You’re saying you’re here because you care?”
He laughed, “Oh dear, no!” He set his drink down and stood up, “Being a witness to you drowning in your sorrows is quite entertaining.”
You turned your head to look at him, “Then why are you here?”
“I’m merely a parrot to our constituents! The worry over your newfound reclusion has become the talk of the town! I wanted to see it for myself.” He walked closer. “But by all means, continue your isolation! Watching the others scurry about with concern and become defeated time after time again is delightful! It’s not as if it’s hurting anyone…” His eyes slid towards you, his smile filtering to that of a smirk. “Including yourself.” He melded into the floor, the fire and music extinguishing with his exit.
Now alone in the thickened darkness, the silence of your own thoughts gnawing into the corners of your mind. Hurting. Were you really hurting them? That wasn’t anything close to what you wanted. Staying in your room. Locked away. That was supposed to be the solution until you felt better. Somewhat better. Just… Different than how you were feeling now.
But the days don’t feel different at all. If anything, the mucky feeling only cemented itself further within your chest. You felt it begin to sink, the thought of everyone trying to break through to you brought that welling feeling back. And you just yelled at them. You yelled at the only people trying to show you kindness.
The tears pooled over the edge, racing down your face. Everything released from within, the melancholic storm brewed over the past few days erupted. Your thunderous cries echoed throughout the dark room.
After a few more whales you finally simmered down to a low whine, taking deep breaths to relieve yourself. It wasn’t a cure-all but you were finally able to gain some bearings. You grabbed your blanket and stood up, wrapping it around your figure. That damn radio head may have had a point after all. You released another long-winded breath and began making your way to your door.
The hallway walls were a sight for sore eyes, you pupils dilating as soon as you stepped out of your room. The heavy feeling in your lungs felt like it was building once again as you journeyed to the lobby. What would you say to them? Would they even want to talk to you? You stopped walking. What if they’re mad at you? You closed your eyes, shaking your head before continuing. You committed to this. No backing out now.
You finally made it to the top of the stairs that descended into the lobby. The blanket around your body felt like it was nearly constricting you with how tight you had it pulled. You sniffled quietly, eyes scanning the area and finally seeing them crowded around the old TV for movie night.
Shuffling closer, you found that watching your feet take each small step closer made you less scared to address them. As soon as Vaggie caught sight of you, she paused the movie, elbowing Charlie and nodding towards you. Everyone soon followed her line of sight.
The silence signaled it was finally time to say something. An overwhelming heat pulsed throughout your body, ending within your cheeks.
“I…” the tears began bubbling the rim of your eyes. “I don’t know why I said those things. I don’t k-know why I’m feeling like this. I just feel… I feel sad, and I don’t know why!” Everything broke once again, large drops cascading down your cheeks endlessly as you began to cry. You used your blanket to wipe away the trails.
Charlie and Angel stood up immediately, coming to your side and embracing you. “It’s okay, Y/N.” The blonde softly consoled. “You don’t have to be happy all the time! And you never need a reason to be sad.”
“Sometimes, we just feel sad. And that’s okay.” Angel spoke, his voice mellow and comforting. “Just share the sadness with us so you’re not alone, okay?”
“Yeah, and we’re always going to be here for you.” Vaggie stood and took a few steps closer.
“Come now,” Alastor gestured with his hand. “Join us while we continue watching this terrible picture show!”
“Yess! Come, come.” Pentious patted the middle seat of the couch as everyone awaited your answer.
A surge of warmth blossomed throughout your body as you stared at them. Ever so gently, your lips pulled upward as you slowly nodded. They returned it before directing you to sit. Angel sat on the other side of you while Charlie returned to sit down with Vaggie and Niffty.
Pentious bent down to the ground and scooped up three of his egg boys and held them close. He leaned over to you, holding one out as an offer. Simon, the egg boy, opened his arms up towards you, awaiting to be held. You gently cradled him against you and smiled.
“This feels much better.” Charlie hummed, cuddled up with Vaggie. Your head fell onto Angel’s shoulder as you released a sigh. Even though you aren’t feeling a hundred percent all the time, at least you're surrounded by those who care about you.
A beamy eye popped into your line of sight. “I made you this.” Niffty shot out her hand, a dead roach was disassembled and strung into a necklace. You flashed a strained smile. It really was the thought that counted.
“Thanks, Nifft.” She flitted back to her spot with a happy giggle and hearing it made you sigh in content. You glanced around the room, seeing everyone watching the movie.
Yeah, this really was much better.
likes and reblogs appreciated !! ♡
#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x you#alastor x reader#charlie morningstar x reader#angel dust x reader#vaggie x reader#sir pentious x reader#hazbin hotel x gn!reader
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Rage, rage | four
prologue | one | two | three | four
Pairing: Azriel x Hybern!Princess!OC
Summary: Nimue was a gift for the King of Hybern. His shining jewel, the perfect heir. However, she is clear about who the villain of the story is. When she saves her father's enemies from a tragic end, she realizes that now it's the Cauldron who has a gift for her: a mate.
Warnings: blood, bad language, talking about trauma, bad familiar relationships (King of hybern father of the year)
Sitting in that chair, Nimue did nothing but absorb everything she saw around her: the paintings hanging on the walls, the rugs covering the floor, every detail placed on the shelves, the books arranged alphabetically...
It was all perfect. She had never imagined what the physical representation of the word "home" would be like, yet she felt it should be like this. In every carefully placed thing, she saw the affection behind it.
She stopped daydreaming and returned to the most pressing matter: the fact that, for some reason, she was tied to that chair.
Bound, but without seeing the ropes. It was an invisible force that pushed her against the wood of the armrests and the cushion of the backrest. She tried to suppress a laugh with little success because she knew effortlessly she could free herself from those ties. But well, if it made them feel safer, so be it.
She looked up, first to that male: Azriel, as she had heard others call him.
She still felt that sensation pulsing right in the middle of her being, making her gaze involuntarily go to him even in that room full of people.
Azriel felt like he was going to explode. He stood, leaning against the back of one of the sofas in the living room, positioned between Rhysand and Amren. With his arms crossed over his chest, he tried to control his breathing, counting to ten and releasing the air, counting again.
His wings trembled upon hearing the small laugh that escaped from the lips of that stranger. "What the hell are you laughing at? Do you find the situation funny?" he barked at the girl. She seemed surprised as her expression changed abruptly.
"No," she replied, furrowing her brow. She could feel the man's anger through that invisible thread connecting her to him. She tried to clear her mind. "It's just amusing that you have me tied up here. I can free myself at any moment, and if I don't, it's because I know you're afraid of me."
Rhysand's face must have been a sight. Afraid of her? He reinforced even more the restraints binding the girl to the chair, and with a sly smile, he took a step forward. "Dare to let yourself go, and you'll see what happens."
Was that some kind of sarcasm? Nimue didn't understand, she was just used to people speaking to her clearly, if only to avoid being in her presence more than necessary.
So she stood up, crossing the restraints of the High Lord like someone walking against a gentle breeze. Everyone jumped in their seats, reaching for their weapons or preparing to defend themselves.
But Nimue simply stood there, scanning from one to another: from the High Lord to Azriel, from the petite woman to Cassian, as she had heard Rhysand call him.
"I know you don't understand what I am or who I am right now, but it's okay. I'll explain it calmly, but you have to be willing to listen to me. You need me more than I need you."
Cassian let out a mocking laugh, "And why did you help us if you say you don't need us?"
And then silence fell.
Why had she helped them?
She had acted without thinking, that's for sure. She had never contradicted her father, and for the first time it was under such circumstances that something didn't fit deep within her conscience. She could excuse it with those memories that weren't hers: seeing those two humans in the Cauldron had awakened in her those memories from twenty years ago. But it wasn't just that.
Yes, she knew that within her, that idea of killing her father, ending him, stopping that plan he wanted to carry out and doing good had always been germinating. But in between there was always that rotten and unconditional love she felt for the King of Hybern, which was written in every cell of her being from the day she emerged.
"I needed an excuse," she said aloud. All the attention of those present was on her, and she kept talking. "I always knew my father was never the good one. I'm missing pieces of the story, I only know what he told me through filters. I know there are people in Prythian, I know there's going to be a war, I know everything revolves around the Cauldron. But I don't know much more."
My father.
When the girl uttered those words, Azriel felt a surge rising from the depths of his throat. How could a monster like the King of Hybern have sired such a beautiful creature?
Yes, beautiful. She is beautiful.
He stopped his thoughts abruptly, trying to ignore his own shadow's whispers. He was hallucinating, again.
"I also know that my father expected me to fight for him in this war, to incinerate Prythian's forces. He counted on an easy victory, however now..." Nimue's hands couldn't stop playing with the fabric of the dress she was wearing. It was then that she realized the pristine white fabric of her skirt was stained with blood, the blood of the Illyrians. She took a deep breath and continued speaking, "He's not going to take it very well that I've done this. That I've... betrayed him.”
"Well, don't tell me."
Nimue looked up at Azriel. Was that irony again?
Rhysand gave the Shadowsinger a stern look, and everyone fell silent again, waiting for the girl to speak.
But she didn't know where to continue. What should she tell them about herself? Should she tell them what she was?
And in the midst of the prolonged silence, the High Lord spoke up, "No one knew of the existence of a princess of Hybern. If you claim to be so powerful, why did your father never boast about you?"
There was something that didn't add up in all of this and had Rhysand uneasy. He felt the presence of the female, a pale, pulsating white light in the middle of the room. It was a strange magic, something he couldn't quite categorize within the fae magic that flowed through his veins. His gaze shifted to Amren, hoping she could shed some light on the situation, but to his surprise, she looked just as bewildered as he did.
"My father never wanted my existence to be known. I..." Nimue bit her lip, weighing how much revealing everything to this group of strangers would be a good idea. "I've never left Hybern. In fact, I've never left the castle."
"How old are you, girl? Have you been locked up in there your whole life?" Amren asked.
"It's hard to say how old I am. In this body, I've lived twenty years of yours. Before that... my memories are clouded."
"In this body? Before that?" Azriel inquired. He felt like he was going crazy, wanting to pull his hair out and scream. What was happening? Of all the outcomes he had predicted for today, this was certainly one he wouldn't have even dreamed of. "Tell us the truth, or I swear I'll slit your throat."
Nimue smiled, a poisonous smile she had learned from her father.
"I doubt it. If I have to kick your ass again like I did out there, I will," she held Azriel's gaze. And added, "And with pleasure."
Azriel snorted, baring his teeth in an aggressive gesture and reaching for his dagger. Nimue simply smiled, holding his gaze without flinching.
With that mask she had learned to wear.
Rhysand rolled his eyes and brought his hands to his face, trying to process everything that was happening.
They hadn't obtained the Cauldron, they had learned of Tamlin's betrayal, they had transformed his mate's sisters, and now this. It had been a very eventful day, to say the least.
"So you're trying to tell us that you've been in this world for twenty years, but before that, you were somewhere else, right? Do you remember where?"
"Yes," said Nimue. She tried to hold back another laugh at the absurdity of the situation. "In the Cauldron."
And they fell silent again.
The expressions on everyone's faces were like something out of a painting, and Nimue let out a quiet laugh.
She had never had to explain who or what she was; everyone where she came from knew. They all knew her.
"Well," she began calmly, "we all know my father, the King of Hybern. The fanatic, lunatic and power-hungry one."
"Yes, unfortunately."
"He impregnated one of his royal concubines, and in the midst of that madness, he decided to put her in the Cauldron. I don't know if it was under coercion from the Cauldron itself, if it was a demand my father made, or what. But the woman died instantly, and in exchange for her life, I came out of the Cauldron."
"So, you're telling me that the Cauldron not only has the power to turn humans into fae, as we've seen with Feyre's sisters. You're telling me," Rhysand took a deep breath, trying to organize his thoughts, "that the Cauldron granted the King a daughter in exchange for a sacrifice, no more, no less."
"Yes, but it's not something that will happen again. The Cauldron created me as its own whim, just as it has done with those two humans you mentioned. Feyre’s sisters…"
“Elain and Nesta.”
"Yes," said Nimue. "What it has done with them won't happen again. Not for a long time, at least. The Cauldron only responds to its own impulses, and I don't even understand them myself. Our fae minds aren't made to understand what the Cauldron is or how it acts. Not even the mind of that creature."
Nimue pointed at Amren, who crossed her arms with a sly smile.
"Well, on that you're right. Not even this creature," she said, pointing to herself, "is capable of understanding under what desires that pot acts."
And they all fell silent again, weighing the situation and assimilating what the girl had said.
Azriel was simply angry, furious. He couldn't feel anything else at that moment. He didn't care much about the Cauldron's affairs, nor did he lose sleep over trying to understand how it worked.
He just wanted to know why he had the misfortune of finding out that his mate, whom he had been waiting to meet since he was a child, had to be the damn daughter of the King of Hybern.
"And regarding your problem," Nimue continued, this time addressing only Azriel, "well, our problem. I never knew what a mate was, as you called it. I knew that the Cauldron forged the souls of people to be incomplete, so that if they were lucky, they would find the other half they were missing during their life. But when I saw you, when I felt it, I was able to understand. I'm sorry if it's been a disappointment, but it is what it is."
Azriel frowned, his arms crossed and the hair on his arms bristling. He felt like he was trembling with rage.
"I didn't ask for this, princess."
Nimue didn't want to admit it, but the pull of disdain she felt on the other side of the bond made her heart shrink.
"Great, neither did I."
Taglist:
@lilah-asteria @agentsofsheilds @leptitlu @just-here-reading @glitterypirateduck @saltedcoffeescotch @donttellthecats @annblvd
#acotar#acotar fanfiction#acotar fic#azriel imagine#azriel#azriel x female!reader#azriel x reader#azriel x oc#cassian#rhysand
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Congrats on 1000 you deserve 10000000 and I love you very many ♥️ for the requests:
J, mafia AU, smut, ring
You know how I like it 😉😘
Mickala!!! 😍😭💖
Thank you so much, I couldn't have made it without all of your lovely support. I'm so happy to have found you as a friend. Hope you enjoy my silly little Mafia AU!
Coup d'etat
Rated: E
Words: 999
Tags: Mafia AU; dark Eddie Munson; intrigue; blood and violence; bondage; nudity; explicit sexual content; consensual non-con
“Nice pool,” Eddie drawls, walking back from the patio into the house. “Could’ve made a bit more of an effort to clean it. I said to leave the place as you’d like to find it, Dick.”
Richard Harrington’s eyes scream bloody murder, but he doesn’t dare speak. Jeff and Frank have him flanked on either side, guns ready in their holsters, and Gareth is manning the door. Just a precaution. Harrington has been in the business for long enough to know he has lost. All of his most loyal henchmen are dead or on the run, and the more fickle ones have joined Eddie’s side.
“Aw, don’t pout.” Eddie pats the man's cheek jovially. “This is just how it works. Survival of the fittest and all that. Now, I believe that concludes our little tour of the house? Or am I forgetting something?”
Harrington’s face twitches. Jeff laughs and rolls his eyes.
“The bedroom, Eddie?”
“Ah, of course!” Eddie snaps his fingers, like he only just remembered. “Shall we, gentlemen?”
*
A giant bed dominates the far wall of the master bedroom. On the mattress, wrists tied to the headboard, is a boy. The soft, muted light glows off his naked skin.
“Ah,” Eddie mutters. “That’s what I’m talking about. Turns out you can follow directions.”
Harrington says nothing. The boy, who stopped tearing at his restraints when he heard the door open, stares at him with wide, panicked eyes.
“Dad? What- … Who are those people?”
Eddie coos. With a few long strides, he’s at the bed, sinking down onto the mattress. One of his hands finds the boy’s bare ankle, sliding up his leg to a firm, freckled thigh.
“Aw, darling. He didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what? Leave me alone, perv!”
The boy tries to shy away from his touch, but he doesn’t get far, bound in place as he is. Eddie chuckles.
“Shhh, honey,” he scolds, cradling that pretty face with both hands. “It's okay. The name's Eddie, I work for your dad. Well, worked.”
The boy blinks at him, hazel eyes large and confused. Eddie laughs softly.
“See, the firm’s under new management. My management, to be more specific. I’m trying to keep it minimum bloodshed, so your old man’s gonna make himself scarce and I’ve agreed not to bother him. In return, I get to keep this fine house … and everything in it.”
Understanding dawns in those pretty eyes.
“No! Don't- don't touch me. Stay away from me.”
Eddie makes a soft shushing sound and wipes the first tears away as they spill over.
“Oh no, sweet thing. It’ll be alright, I promise. I’ll take such good care of- wait a sec.”
Because one of his hands has just slipped up to the boy's temple, fingers carding through thick, chestnut hair - only to come away red and sticky. The boy flinches, but Eddie grabs his jaw, holding him in place so that he can comb his hair aside. There’s a large, bleeding bruise on his temple. For a moment, the only sound in the room is that of the boy's hitched breathing.
“Dick?” Eddie growls. “Explain this?”
“He fought back,” Harrington mutters defiantly. “What was I supposed-”
Eddie has him up against the wall, gun to his throat, before he can finish the sentence.
“Are you kidding me? Trying to slip me damaged goods? I should fucking kill you, you son of a-”
“Eddie,” Frank mutters. “C'mon, man.”
Eddie blinks.
“Right,” he says. “Get him out of my sight.”
Relief washes over Harrington’s face as the gun disappears from his throat - only to be replaced by incredulous horror a second later, when Eddie holds out his hand before his face, palm up.
“Go on, Dick. It's traditional, right? A sign of respect.”
Harrington growls. His hands curl into fists. Eddie smirks, raising an expectant eyebrow. Then, quickly, as if the touch will burn him, Harrington bows his head and kisses Eddie’s rings.
“Not so hard, was it?” Eddie calls after him as he is escorted out. The door clicks shut.
Eddie's smile slips.
“Shit, Stevie,” he breathes. He's back on the bed in an instant, tilting the boy's head with gentle fingers to look at the injury. “What'd you go and do that for? I told you not to fight.”
“And I told you it had to look convincing,” Steve retaliates. “Was I just supposed to let them tie me up and tear off my clothes and thank them for it?”
Eddie's mouth twists into a grin.
“We both know that's how you like it, honey.”
He leans in, claiming those plush lips for a long, filthy kiss. Steve puts up a brief symbolic struggle, but Eddie growls warningly and slips a hand between his legs, and his protests turn into the sweetest little moans. Eddie only allows them to part once they're both out of breath and Steve is starting to buck and grind in his hold.
“Everything went well, then?” Steve asks. His voice is hoarse and raspy, and he needs to stop halfway through for another moan. “The- … the security codes all worked?”
“Flawlessly, you sly little minx,” Eddie murmurs. He bites down on the perfect stretch of that long throat, rolls Steve’s balls in his hand, and delights in the full-body shiver it gets him. “That old asshole didn’t know what hit him.”
Steve lets out a breathy laugh, rolling his hips to meet Eddie’s touch.
“Good. Now untie me, so we can celebrate.”
“Oh?” Eddie smirks, crawling further down and leaving a trail of biting kisses all over the soft skin of Steve’s chest and stomach. “But I am celebrating already.”
Steve groans. “Eddie, c’mon!”
“Ah-ah-ah, Stevie. There’s people out there who think I’m gonna ravage you tonight,” Eddie tuts, grabbing the boy’s twitching hips and blowing a warm stream of air on that pretty, flushed cock. Steve fucking mewls. The sound is like the sweetest music. “Be a good boy now. Gotta make it convincing, no?”
More celebration ficlets
#steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington x eddie munson#steddie brainrot#steddie fanfic#fanfiction writer#fanfiction#fanfic#my writing#hype's 1k follower ficlets
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Character Introductions
(yes, I know I should've done this before the first part was posted but I didn't so y'all get it now)
-------------------
Nika Mühl as herself
Height: 5’11
Age: 20
School/Team: University of Connecticut (UConn), UConn Women’s Basketball Team (#10), Croatia (#10)
Nicknames: Mühl, Love, Secretary Of Defense, Pookie (only by Paige)
Nationality: Croatian
Instagram: nika.muhl
Alt: nikalovesbball
“I don’t like her like that, we’re just friends, nothing more.”
“I don’t know what I want yet, but I do know that I want it with you. Not someone like you, it’s you that I want.”
“You know, I was always a Chelsea fan.”
You as Yourself (shhh, just imagine.)
Height: Tall as fuck
Age: 18
School/Team: Harvard, Harvard Women’s Soccer Team (#10), England WNT (#10/2+8)
Nicknames: Grumpy, Kid/Kiddo, Troll Child (Leah), Baby, Tiny (only by Paige), Captain
Nationality: English
Instagram: y/n.y/l/n
Alt: norflondonforever
“North London forever, whatever the weather, these streets are our own.”
“I want a beach house in Barcelona, with the most amazing view of the water. And maybe a dog, or a cat. And I want to run a small surf shop at the corner of the beach, hidden away from everything. That’s what my legacy will be, just you me and our beach house in Barca.”
“Sorry coach, I gotta go see ‘bout a girl.”
Gabbi Broussard as Emma 'Em' Whitmore
Height: 5’9
Age: 20
School/Team: Harvard, Harvard Women’s Soccer Team (#18), USWNT (#28)
Nicknames: Em, Emily, Emma Hayes (only by you to annoy her), Ugly
Nationality: American/Canadian
Instagram: emwhit18
Alt: thebetterwhitmore
“Cal’s not scary, he looks like the rat from Flushed Away.”
“I think you need to stop thinking about what everyone else wants and start thinking about what you want. This situation, it’s not your fault that you caught feelings, but it is your fault that you’re pushing her away, so man the fuck up and do the right thing.”
“Will you stop singing that already?”
Callum Turner as Callum 'Cal' Whitmore
Height: 6’4
Age: 23
School/Team: University of Connecticut (UConn), UConn Men’s Basketball Team(#26), US Men’s Basketball(#22)
Nicknames: Cal, Gollum, The Rat from Flushed Away
Nationality: American/Canadian
Instagram: callumwhitmore
Alt: nottheratfromflushedaway
“I don’t look like the fucking rat from Flushed Away, stop telling people that.”
“Em, dad called, he said shut up.”
“Watching you trying to flirt is the single most embarrassing thing I’ve ever done.”
Robert Sean Leonard as Coach 'Dad' Daniels
Height: 6’0
Age: 66
School/Team: Head Coach of Harvard Women’s Soccer Team
Nicknames: Coach, Dad, Coach Dad, Pops, Ancient Being
Nationality: American
Instagram: headcoachdaniels
Alt: doesn’t have one, he’s too much of an old fart
“It’s called intermittent fasting, look it up, you should try it sometime.”
“No, for the last time, me and Coach Hansen aren’t secretly married with two dogs, you all need less free time to come up with theories like that, this isn’t dead poet’s society. Extra training sessions the whole week out.”
“Are those hickeys? Okay ladies, when you want to have sex make sure to cover up the evidence after, I do not need to know more about your intimate lives than I already do.”
Ethan Hawke as Coach Hansen
Height: 5’11
Age: 62
School/team: Harvard Men’s Soccer Team Head Coach
Nicknames: Coach Daniels’ Husband, Dad #2, Mr. Sir
Nationality: American/British
Instagram: headcoachhansen
Alt: an old fart like his husband, so no alt for him
“So you kids thought you’d get a different answer from me than from Coach Daniels? Why are you kids so incessant on trying to find out if we’re together or not.”
“Don’t tell anyone, but I kissed Coach Daniels last night. It was like something straight out of a movie, something so poetic about it.”
“This is Buddy, me and Coach Daniels adopted him so that he could be our mascot. No other reason.”
Paige Bueckers as herself
Height: 6’0
Age: 20
School/Team: University of Connecticut (UConn), UConn Women’s Basketball Team (#5), USA Women’s Basketball Team (#5)
Nicknames: PBuckets, PB&J, The Third Jonas Brother
Nationality: American
Instagram: paigebueckers
Alt: p5buckets
“I’ll beat you on Fifa all day every day.”
“God Nika, admit it, you like her. I can see it from a mile away and this thing you’re doing, this back and forth, will they won’t they, is going to hurt you both in the end. All I’m suggesting is that you evaluate what you want from this relationship and then take it from there.”
“I’m always right, it’s scientifically impossible for me to be wrong.”
Leah Williamson as herself
Height: 5’7
Age: 25
School/Team: Arsenal Women’s Team (#6), England WNT (#6/8/5)
Nicknames: Lee, Will, Spurs Nr 1 Fan, Oldie, Capi
Nationality: English
Instagram: leahwilliamsonn
Alt: will.i.am.son
“I’M NOT A SPURS FAN, STOP SAYING THAT.”
“Y’know in all the time I’ve known you kid, I’ve never seen you this enamoured with someone, you’re so in love it’s making me sick.”
“You’re like the little sister I never had.”
Lucy Bronze as herself
Height: 5’7
Age: 30
School/Team: FC Barcelona Femení (#15), England WNT (#2)
Nicknames: Lucia, Robert, Luce, Prehistoric Being, Dad
Nationality: English/Portuguese
Instagram: lucybronze
Alt: bronzesilvergold
“Ugh, the ladies just love me don’t they.”
“I’m down with the lingo, I’ve got so much rizz that the boomers come running. Cowabunga.”
“Love is…love is effortless, it makes you feel all jittery and when you’re around them you feel like you can do anything. You’ll know it once you feel it kid, don’t try to rush the process, let it wash over you like the waves at the beach.”
Everyone else as themselves, also the other's alt instagrams will explained when they appear
#woso#woso x reader#lionesses#arsenal wfc#woso imagines#wbb x reader#uconn wbb#nika muhl#nika muhl x reader#10/10 series#harvard women's soccer team
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Should Have Been Me - CC
Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader
Summary: You and Caitlin are home for a weekend to celebrate her brother's birthday - one thing leads to another and nothing is the same.
Warnings: ANGST - PURE ANGST, read at your own will. I would apologize but that would be a lie...
Word Count: 6.3k
Sweetbans Masterlist
AN: Please don't ask why I did this, I needed the pain. Just let it be. But low-key this is probably one of my favorites that I’ve written. Okay great, thanks!
You and Caitlin are jamming out on the drive home to Des Moines. A few weeks back she mentioned how her younger brother's birthday was coming up and she was planning on making the trip home to be there. She didn't need to ask, knowing you would come.
The two of you grew up together, meeting on the first day of first grade. You two were inseparable. If you weren't at school together, you were at practice or at each other's homes. Your parents accepted when you were girls that they both had two daughters even though she was the only girl among her siblings and you were an only child. You were all essentially one big family.
It came as no surprise to either of them when Caitlin and you told them you were dating in high school. It was a little bit of a hard pill for her parents to swallow but ultimately were supportive of your relationship when they saw how happy you made Caitlin as more than a friend. It wasn't a hard decision when the Hawkeyes came around and scouted both of you out to play college basketball with them. It was both of your dreams, to play college basketball and ultimately make it to the NCAA championship. Eventually to play in the WNBA and that all was coming true right before your eyes. It was the cherry on top that you two were able to do that together on the same team. Not only is your chemistry incredible off the court, but on the court - it's unmatched.
This is your last little getaway before things pick up going into March Madness. Senior year baby and the two of you know you can the team all the way back to the final four.
You pull up to her house and grab your bag from the car. Even though your home was right down the street the two of you planned to spend the Friday night at her house and then head to yours for Saturday night. It works out well as her brother's birthday party is tonight.
Once you get inside, you see her mom going crazy trying to get everything in order before tonight You set your things down and immediately help out wherever she needs. Caitlin does the same but takes some time to catch up with her dad first. Once Cait and her dad jump in, it all comes together.
People begin to arrive and the party comes together. Their home comes to life with friends and family from all over.
Caitlin's mom comes running over to Caitlin and you in a slight panic.
"Caitlin, I need you to go grab Colin from his friends," she says looking at her phone.
"Doesn't he have his car? Why do I need to go grab him? I told Dad that I would help him get the lights up for the party before everyone got here and we are behind." She says getting a little flustered herself.
"His car isn't starting and his friend is out of a car so they have no way of getting here," Caitlin's mom explains.
"I can go get him," you say. "That way you both can stay and finish anything that is needed."
"Oh, you are an angel, sweetheart! Thank you, thank you, thank you," she says while giving you a hug.
"It is no problem, it's my pleasure," you respond and give her a smile. Caitlin gives you a look of gratitude.
Caitlin's mom sends you the address and you give Cait a peck before heading out to grab the boys.
Once you get in your car, you put on your favorite playlist and maps then head out. It was only about a 15-minute drive there. As you are driving, it is just starting to get dark. Your lights turn on automatically as you are driving. You are about 5 minutes out when you are stopped at a light. Once yours turns green, you begin to go and that is when time stops.
*Third person-ish POV*
Caitlin's mom walks over to her and her dad as they are setting up the lights. They are just about finished putting them up - it took a minute to do but they look really good.
"Have you see your little bother yet? I thought they would be back by now," her mom says looking at her phone.
"I am sure they are almost here, Mom," Caitlin says as her arms are holding up the last string of lights for her dad.
"I'm sure you're right," she says as she walks away and goes to tend to the food.
Once the lights are complete, Caitlin goes to look for you. She looks all over the place and can't seem to find you. After about 30 minutes of looking, she finds her mom.
"Hey mom, have you seen (y/n)," she asks, checking her phone to see if there were any messages that she missed.
"I have been trying to call her. Your bother called and asked when we would be there to pick him up," she says and Caitlin begins to get nervous. Looking at the clock, she realizes it has been about an hour since you had left to pick him up and it should have taken you 30 minutes.
Cait gives your phone a ring and it goes straight to voicemail. She begins to look around for your parents, knowing they were here to see if they could get a hold of you. When she finds them, they say they haven't seen her yet.
"Caitlin, can you go get your brother, please? It has been over an hour in and he is still waiting for (y/n)," her mom says, not looking up from her phone. Caitlin grabs her mom's keys and heads out.
As she is driving, she notices there are police detouring cars. Her heart rate begins to pick up. She has to tell herself that it's not you, it couldn't be you. There was no way, you had never been in an accident and you are the best driver she knows. She slows down and makes a slow turn following the detour when she sees it. She sees your car flipped on its side, completely crushed on the driver's side.
She pulls her car over immediately, gets out, and runs to the scene. There is caution tape around the whole area which she completely ignores and runs over to the first ambulance she can see. When she looks inside, she sees a man with a cut on his forehead and arm in a sling. Before she can continue looking, there is a police officer approaching her.
"Ma'am, you can't be over here," he begins to say as he tries to usher you out of the caution-taped area.
"That's my girlfriend's car! I need to find her!" She says as she is in full-blown panic now.
The officer's mannerisms change completely when he hears that the girl in front of him knows who was in the car that was hit.
"Come this way, ma'am," he says in a gentler tone this time.
"No, I need to find (y/n). That is her car, she is here and I need to find her," Caitlin says not seeing the officer's demeanor changing. He grabs her arm and tries to get her to look at him. When she looks at him, he speaks again.
"You should come this way and we can talk," he says slowly, not wanting to spook you. Caitlin goes into a haze. She stops trying to fight the officer and lets him lead her to an easy-up tent that has been set up with lights. He offers her a chair and a bottle of water and sits next to her.
"Would you happen to have contacts for her parents? Someone else we can call to come down and be here with you?" The officer says, still not telling her what happened or where you are.
Caitlin pulls out her phone from her pocket and hands it over to him with your mom's phone number on the screen. Up to this point, no tears had fallen from Caitlin's eyes - if she was feeling anything it was anger. Why wasn't anyone telling her anything? She still had no idea what had happened. The officer passes her phone to another officer and they make the call.
"Can you please tell me what has happened and what's going on? I want to see her, is she okay?" Caitlin begins asking the officer again. She is doing everything in her power to not completely freak out. Her body is numb and she is confused as to where you could be.
"It would be best to wait for her family to be here," the officer begins but is cut off by Caitlin.
"I am her family." She says without hesitation. It was true. Not by blood and not legally, at least not legally yet but between growing up together and the relationship the two of you had been in for the last 6 years, it was only a matter of time before you were married. She had been your family since day one and everyone knew that.
The officer gives her a somber smile and a nod. Giving her a pat on the shoulder as another officer calls him over.
Caitlin sits there and waits, trying to look around at other ambulances to see if she can see you in any of them. If you were hurt, maybe they had already taken you to the hospital and didn't want her to drive in the state she was in.
A few moments pass and Caitlin sees both your parents and hers come running up to the scene. Caitlin stands and immediately hugs her mom. The tears begin to fall the second she is wrapped in safe arms. She still has no idea what is going on but at least now she is not alone.
The officer approaches asking your parents if they are they say they are. He takes them aside and begins explaining what happened. Caitlin breaks away from her mom to look over and see your mom sobbing with your dad trying to hold her as he sheds tears of his own.
"Mom, what happened? They haven't told me anything, I just want to see her," Caitlin says heart beating faster than a race car. Seeing your parents crumble before the officer has her feeling sick. She can't stand still as her foot is tapping and her hands keep playing with either themselves or the bottom of her shirt.
Caitlin's dad nods at her mom as he walks over to your parents and the officer. The officer and her dad both look over to Caitlin and her mom as they turn away. Caitlin sees her dad's shoulder slump and his hand come up to his face. He takes another moment before patting the officer on the shoulder and heading back to where his family is.
He doesn't say anything as he approaches, but rather takes Caitlin in his arms and just holds his daughter.
"Dad," Caitlin begins, hesitant in asking how. The last 45 minutes had felt like an eternity as she had been asking everyone under the sun what had happened. But the way her dad walked over and went to hold her, she no longer wants to know what has happened - she just wants to go back to earlier today when it was you and her against the world on the drive home. She can't seem to find what to ask anymore.
"Baby, I'm so sorry." Is all he says as he holds his baby girl. Something your parents are no longer able to do. Her mom rubs Caitlin's arm.
Caitlin's whole body goes numb, she still doesn't really know what happened but knows enough now to figure out nothing is going to be the same. When it begins to hit her, she feels suffocated by the arms holding her. Her first instinct is to run, to break away from here and run. And that is exactly what she does.
She pushes through her dad's arms and runs. She can hear her parents call for her but she doesn't look back.
She runs for hours finally slowing down when her lungs begin to burn so bad that she is gasping for air. Not that she wanted it - if you weren't with her, what was the point? You had been by her side her whole life and now she was alone. Cait lets out the most primal scream and falls to the ground. She curls up into a ball as the tears begin to fall.
Her mind begins to think of you, to the last moment before you left when you offered to pick up her brother. All she gave you was a little peck - no hug, no I love you. She should have held you and told her she loved you. It is then that it dawns on her, she was the one that was supposed to go. It was Caitlin who was first asked to pick up her brother but she didn't want to leave her dad so you volunteered. It should have been her picking up her brother. Maybe if it was her, things would have turned out differently and you would have still been here. As she is curled up on the side of the street - she feels her body beginning to shut down...
It was the summer before junior year of high school and you and Caitlin were heading home from practice for your club team, Attack. She was driving the two of you back to your house when you mentioned you wanted to stop to get milkshakes. She happily pulled over at your favorite local spot. Once the two of you had gotten your sweet treat, you sat in her car drinking milkshakes and talking about all the possibilities for playing college ball.
"Cait?" You ask as she is finishing her milkshake. She looks up at you. "I love you," you say. Up to this point, the two of you had both told each other you liked each other more than friends and started to explore what that looked like. You would say the two of you had been dating for the past couple of months - keeping it really low-key as you didn't know how the people around you would take it. But there was something about this moment, something about being together and just doing life together that helped you realize she is your everything.
She looks at you slightly shocked.
"You don't need to say it back!" You say, not wanting to pressure her. You just didn't want to go another day without telling her. "I just needed to tell you because, well, I do. I love you, Caitlin Clark."
A goofy little smile makes its way to her face and she pulls you in for a hug. It isn't the most comfortable considering you sitting in a car and have some piece of the center console pushing into your rib cage but you didn't mind.
"I love you," she whispers in your ear as she hugs you.
"Caitlin, sweetie," someone is shaking her arm. "Cait, wake up," they continue to shake her, waking her up.
She looks up, eyes foggy and body in pain. It takes her a few seconds to see it is completely dark and that she is on the side of the road. As she looks around, she realizes she is across the street from your favorite milkshake place. It had closed down a few years back but it was often a place the two of you would go to just sit and talk.
As she sits up, she doesn't remember stopping here. She just remembers running and running until she literally couldn't.
"Caitlin, sweetie," she hears again and looks up. It is your dad who has woken her up, she looks around and it is just him. "We have been looking for you for a while now sweetie."
She just nods. Everything rushed back to her. No one has actually said it to her yet, but she knows. You were gone. Her eyes begin to water again as it is all too much for her to wrap her mind around.
Your dad sits next to her, not ready to make his way back to reality. Sitting there with Cait, has him feeling like you are still here. That you are going to walk up and take them both home and tell them that this was all a dream.
“I don’t know if you remember, but I took you and (y/n) here after your very first basketball practice in elementary school. You both wanted something sweet and I didn’t want to go out of the way on the drive home that I pulled over here in hopes they had something that would satisfy you both. We walked in and they had milkshakes,” he says with a little laugh and sniffle. “(Y/n) had never had a milkshake before but you were so excited and told her it was the best thing in the world. Of course, she believed you, she trusted you with her whole heart and soul and you didn’t disappoint her. That afternoon you two shared a chocolate shake, finished every last drop.”
Caitlin is hugging her legs as tears stream down her face. She doesn’t remember that but it makes it that much more special that this place was your spot.
“Caitlin, has anyone explained what has happened?” He asks hesitantly. He doesn’t want to talk about it but he knows that she deserves to know.
She takes a minute, deciding if she really wants someone to say it. Even though she knows you are gone, for some reason having someone explain what actually happened makes everything that much more real. She finally shakes her head no, not daring to make eye contact. She feels like she would physically fall apart if someone looked into her eyes with any drop of sympathy.
“They said it was fast, that she didn’t feel any pain,” he began, hoping that would provide any ounce of peace to her. “When she was going through the intersection, a drunk driver came and blew through their red light. They impacted the driver's side and she…” he is choked up at this point. It’s not right that a father has to say this about his daughter. “She died upon impact.” He finishes, not sugarcoating it knowing Caitlin also preferred the direct approach.
Caitlin at this point is shaking with pain and anger. Her world has completely flipped due to an idiot making bad decisions. She wants to find the man and bring him all the pain she is feeling but knows that will never bring you back. That’s all she really wants, is you back.
Your dad doesn’t rush Caitlin, he lets her feel everything she needs. If he is honest, he also needs this time. He’s been caring for your mom then went on the hunt with the rest of the family to find Caitlin. He hasn’t had the time to just sit. Not that he really wanted to because that allows the feelings to come in and disrupt peace. How does a dad wrap his mind around losing his baby girl? His only little one.
“I don’t know life without her,” Caitlin speaks for the first time. Her voice is unsteady and broken, desperate. “She’s always been there, I don’t know how to be here without her,” she says as she lets out a cry. She bites her arm to avoid completely losing it. Your dad's hand comes to rub her back and bring her into a hug.
"I know she was your person and you were hers. She will always be a part of you," your dad says trying to calm the broken girl you left behind. "But I also know that she took a part of you and that it is going to take time for you to process and heal."
The two of them sit, not saying much after that. After some time, your dad helps Caitlin into the car, driving her back to her home. On the car ride back, your dad calls Caitlin's dad letting her know that she is with him and they can all head back to their house.
When they arrive, Cait's parents come running out and embrace her in a hug. Her whole body was still numb, her cheeks stained with dried tears. She doesn't have the energy to hug them back, rather just stands there. No thoughts going through her head, she doesn't quite know what to do. How does someone continue living when they are no longer whole?
*One week later*
Caitlin is sitting on her bed, dressed in a simple black dress. Her hair is straightened and her nails are black. They are usually painted white but that just didn’t fit her in the moment. She is mentally preparing to face the crowd of people who are waiting just down the road.
She takes a shaky breath and stands from her bed. She walks up to her dresser and puts on a necklace and bracelet - both were gifts from you. She looks at herself one more time in the mirror. As she is looking at herself, she pictures when the two of you were standing there dressed for a friend’s wedding. It’s almost as if she can see you standing next to her.
She hears a faint knock on her door. She doesn’t respond but the door opens and her mom peaks through.
“Hey baby, are you ready” She asks in a gentle motherly tone. Caitlin just nods. Never in a million years would she picture herself being in this boat.
Cait's dad had already driven over to the church with her brothers. It was going to be Cait and her mom driving there just in case she needed some space to be alone.
As they arrive, there is already a huge crowd of people, all of whom are entering the building. Caitlin's heart rate begins to pick up and she begins to fiddle with the bottom of her dress. Her mom grabs her hand, attempting to calm her. Nothing and no one will ever calm her like you did.
She walks in. There have been countless times Caitlin has imagined walking down this aisle with you but under much different circumstances. Her heart aches at the thought of what could have been.
She takes her seat in the front row between her mom and her dad. As she sits, she makes the mistake of glancing over at your parents. She can tell they are doing everything in their power to keep their composure but she knows they are faking.
The funeral service begins and your dad is the first to go up and speak. Caitlin's mind wanders elsewhere...
It was freshman year of college and the two of you are heading into your Intro to Psych class. The two of you head to the seats you have sat in since day one. In the middle of class, Caitlin feels a weight on her shoulder. When she looks over she sees you - fast sleep on her.
It had been a busy few weeks between double practices and all the homework you two had. Cait knew you had been bending over backwards adjusting and keeping up with all the university required of you.
She leans down and kisses you on the head. You would always say you are an ugly sleeper - granted you had never seen yourself but you could feel it. Caitlin on the other hand would disagree and say you are the cutest when you sleep. She would always say you looked so peaceful, childlike.
Caitlin also knows that you would be pissed if she let you sleep through the lecture. You were the better note-taker and when it would come time to study for the final - Cait wouldn't hear the end of letting you sleep through the review. But on the other hand, your girl knows how little sleep you have been getting, always working on school work or reviewing plays and making sure you were on top of everything.
You let out a little sigh and lean a little further into her - fast asleep. Caitlin lets out a little groan, knowing she would much rather watch you sleep on her than wake you. She slowly begins to move her shoulder, trying to get you to wake up without being startled.
When you don't budge, she leans down and says your name in your ear. You still don't budge.
Finally, she turns a little, trying not to draw attention to the two of you, and moves her arm to squeeze your thigh.
"Babe, you need to wake up," she says, giving your thigh another squeeze.
"Mmmm, don't want to," you mumble and move to take hold of her arm, wrapping your arms around it like it was a pillow.
"Babe, we are still in class." She says with a little laugh - falling a little more in love with you.
This causes you to shoot up, fully alert by her words. You look around and your cheeks redden immediately. Sinking down in your chair - embarrassment filling every ounce of your body.
She hands you your pen back and leans over to kiss your head once again.
"Don't worry babe, you didn't miss much," she says reassuring you.
Caitlin is pulled back to the present - though she much rather stay in the past. The service was ending and there was going to be a time for people to pay their respects to your family. it was being held at your house, Caitlin hasn't been without you - not having the strength to go over to see your parents. Most of the last week was spent in bed, with the exception of when her mom encouraged her to shower.
When she walks into the house, it almost feels foreign. She grew up in this house with you and now it feels unknown. She walks up to your parents. Your mom engulfs her in a hug, mumbling something along the lines of how much she loves her. Cait then steps over to give your dad a hug. The last time she saw him was when he found her on the side of the road. He hugs Caitlin without saying anything until their embrace ends.
"When you are ready, I have something to show you," he says. Caitlin just nods. She isn't ready yet but keeps that in mind.
As Cait makes her way further into the house, her team is standing there. This is the first time seeing anyone outside of your family since that night.
Kate is the first one to come up to Caitlin and pull her into a hug. Kate is crying as she hugs her. When Caitlin is in public settings - she doesn't tend to cry, she does everything in her willpower not to because someone had to stay composed and when you were around, it wasn't you. She hugs Kate back and rubs her back.
All the girls give their condolences and talk about their favorite memories with you. Kate is holding Caitlin's hand, grounding her.
Caitlin stands there, trying to be polite and listen to how much they all loved you and adored you but she was crawling in her skin. None of this still feels right. Somewhere in Caitlin's mind and heart, she is waiting for you to walk through the front door and tell everybody that there is no one to mourn and that she is okay. But that was all just a dream.
Caitlin excuses herself and decides she wants to be alone. She begins walking and before she knows it, she is standing at the door to your room. The door is closed and she doesn't remember this being the destination she was looking for.
Her breath begins to unease itself as her hand comes to the doorknob. She twists it and opens the door, not yet daring to take a step inside. She stands looking around - the all too familiar space feeling empty. A pain builds in her chest as she walks through and makes her way to your dresser.
She looks at all that it holds. Little trinkets that the two of you saw value in, old jewelry, and many pictures of the two of you. Photos of you growing up and in high school. Her fingers run along your face on all of them - tears finally making an appearance on her own.
She then makes her way to your closet - bringing an old high school basketball sweatshirt into her chest. She inhales the scent of it, dampening it with her tears. She puts it on and hugs her arms around her body. She makes her way over to your bed and runs her hands over it, remembering all the times she had spent the night here with you. She lays down and curls up into a ball.
Looking over, she sees an old teddy bear that the two of you had made at Build-a-Bear for one of your anniversaries. She takes hold of the bear and snuggles into it - finally allowing her sobs to release.
Every time she begins to feel better, she gets hit by another truck. This one being the second biggest only to the night it all happened.
After some time, she finally begins to settle down. She sees your dad pass by. Caitlin gets up and runs to the doorway, calling for him.
"Caitlin," he begins, as he slightly peers into your room. "We haven't been in (Y/n's) room since it happened, we haven't had the strength to..." He continues.
"You said you had something you wanted to show me?" She asks, not really sure if she is ready but wants to know.
"Oh yes, wait here, let me grab it," he says and goes to get something from your parent's room. He comes back holding something in his hand.
He passes it to Caitlin. It is a small velvet box. Caitlin's hands begin to shake.
"When you are ready, you can open it. It doesn't have to be now, but I know it belongs to you." He says as there is some confusion written on Caitlin's face. He explains. "This was my mother's, she passed it down to Y/n when she mentioned the two of you started dating. We have been holding onto it but like I said, it's yours." He chokes out the last part and excuses himself.
Caitlin goes to sit on your bed and just stares at the box in her hands.
She slowly opens the box to see the most beautiful diamond ring sitting in it. Tears begin to fall again as she removes it from the box and places it on her finger.
It's your grandmother's wedding ring. Your grandmother had given you her wedding ring for when you were ready to ask Caitlin to marry you. Caitlin looks at the ring on her finger and clutches her hand to her chest - you were going to ask her to be your wife.
As Cait was going to close the box, a little piece of paper caught her eye. She pulls it out and opens the folded piece. She whispers the words on the page.
"Dear Y/n, It is clear to me how much you love Caitlin. I could see it before the two of you started dating, it was only a matter of time. She is your person like your grandfather was to me. I am giving you this ring for when the time is right and you are ready to build a life with her. May you love each other more and more each day, as your grandfather and I did. I love you, sweet girl. - Grams"
Caitlin struggled through the letter but was glad she did. She realized you had been holding on to this ring for the past 5 years.
*Two months later*
Caitlin was back at school and back at practice with the girls. Each girl on the team took turns watching over Caitlin. It was never said but she knew, at no point was she ever alone except to sleep.
Tonight was her first game back and it has been a love-hate relationship getting back on the court. Basketball has always been her love but it was off-putting being on the court without you. The two of you had played together for so long, neither of you had to think when it came to making things happen. Coming back to practice it was like learning a whole new sport.
As the team was in the locker room before the game - they were getting a talk from Coach Bluder before taking the court for the first game of March Madness.
"We are going to go out there and give our everything. There is nothing we are not ready for - each and every one of you has put in the blood, sweat, and tears and we are going to show the world that this is our time." She says getting the team fired up. Her final words bring silence among the group. "As we go out there, we are going out there incomplete. We are missing someone who has changed this team for the better and when we step foot onto that court, we are walking out there in her honor. Y/n will always be a part of this team and as she carried this team as captain before - she still does today."
Caitlin fiddles with the ring that would have wed the two of you and safety pins it to the left side of her sports bra. There was no way she was walking out there without you with her.
The team lines up in silence - ready to go out and honor you. And that is exactly what they did.
Iowa went 91-65, absolutely crushing the first round of March Madness. Your team fought its way back to the Final Four and Caitlin dedicated every game to you.
The night of the Final Four was a battle - UConn put up an amazing fight, but the Hawkeyes came out on top. After the game - it was decided that Caitlin would step into the post-game press conference. Her first one since your passing.
As she sits down, the crowd takes a second to settle, surprised seeing her out there considering she hadn't been in any of the previous ones despite being an all-star in each of them.
The press starts asking questions about the game and how the team was able to pull the win off. Everything was going smoothly until one reporter asked about you.
"Caitlin, there was a loss on your team right earlier in the season - how has that affected the team dynamic?" The reporter asks.
She was expecting someone to ask but even anticipating the question, it took her some time to gather her thoughts. Just as she was about to speak - Kate stepped up and responded for her. Caitlin was extremely thankful and when Kate was done she finally found the words she wanted to say.
"No one on this team has felt the loss of Y/n more than I have. She was my #1 on and off the court," she says beginning to get choked up. "Her absence is felt deeper than anyone can imagine and this team will never be the same without her."
'I will never be the same without her' is what Caitlin wanted to say but couldn't between the tears that began to fall. Kate passed her a towel, which she gladly accepted. She tried so hard to keep it together but it was all still so fresh.
That night, Kate and some of the other girls spent the night at Caitlin's so she wouldn't have to be alone. It had only been a few months but Caitlin was afraid she would never truly heal from you.
*One year later*
Caitlin was living out the dream the two of you talked about so often. She was in the WNBA and was playing for the Indiana Fever. She had an incredible rookie year and was currently at an awards night where she was going to receive the Rookie of the Year award.
The night was going well and it was time for the award presentation. When they announce Caitlin as rookie of the year, she ascends the stage and accepts the award, giving the commissioner a hug before taking her place to make her speech.
"First off, I want to say a huge thank you to my team - if it wasn't for them taking me in like they did, I wouldn't be standing here today. I want to thank my Iowa team who grew me and shaped me. Thank you to my parents and brothers for always pushing me and believing in me and my ability." She looks down at the award and at her hand that wears her ring. "The last thank you I want to give is to Y/n, my wife." She says it knowing the weight it holds but it comes out so naturally.
"I owe my everything to her. She was my supporter from day one and every day after that she wouldn't settle for anything less than my best. Even when I would say I was giving her my all - she would push me past that, strengthening me and showing me who I truly had the potential to become. I stand before you all today because of her love of this sport, and her love of me." Caitlin makes the slightest adjustment to look up, to anyone in the audience it looks like she is looking up at the balcony but all those who knew you, know that she is looking up to you. "Baby, we did it," she says as a single tear rolls down her cheek. "We are living out our dream."
AN: DON'T ASK ME TO APOLOGIZE BECAUSE I WON'T. Please let me know what you think! And as always, thank you for your love and support 🤍
#caitlin clark#caitlin clark x reader#caitlin clark imagine#iowa wbb#iowa hawkeyes#caitlin clark masterlist#wnba#indiana fever
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idk if you can do this but can you do a poly!marauders x gn!reader, and the boys’ reactions when yn wears a binder one day.
i'm not trans nor have i ever worn a binder, so i hope this is an accurate portrayal!! feel free to correct me on anything i've messed up.
Getting a binder was a long time coming. After months of research, hesitations and all the time spent waiting, going to the store and getting one, you never thought wearing something to bind would make you feel so damn free. Finally, understanding what people meant when you heard about gender euphoria.
You hadn’t told the boys about your latest purchase. In fact, you hadn’t brought up the concept to them. Not that they hadn’t been supportive of you, they really were. In a world of magic, pronouns were something that hardly needed grasping, and they would correct anyone who messed up politely, sending you a soft smile as they did. But- you couldn’t help but be anxious about them finding out. What if this was too much? What if they get freaked out?
So, you kept your binder to yourself.
At first, you didn’t think they had noticed. You wore looser clothes or sports bras earlier, so it probably wasn’t as big of a difference to others. It wasn’t until dinner that night where you noticed Sirius staring at you from across the table.
“What?” You said, chomping down on a bread roll to hide the way self conciousness ebbed in your chest.
Sirius squinted his eyes, looking like James when he tries to read without his glasses. “You look different.” He says. “Did you do something to your face?”
James laughs from next to you. “Did they do something to their face? What kind of question is that, Padfoot?”
“Well, I don’t know!” Sirius exclaims, “Admit it though Prongs, something about them is different!”
You find it hard to not instinctively crawl under the table to hide. So you curl in on yourself, pressing your chin to your chest to calm the heat across your cheeks. As if he can sense your anxiety, Remus places his hand on your shoulder.
“Guys stop.” He says, light concern lacing his voice, but he’s clearly trying to hide it. “Obviously they’re just relaxed now that the holidays are coming, isn’t that right?” He says to you, giving you a slight smirk and raise of his eyebrows that only happen during his most devious pranks. ‘go with this’, he silently urges you.
You smile, nodding your head. “Yeah, I’m glad classes are almost over.”
“Well,” Sirius starts, “We should have holidays more often then. Haven’t seen you this confident in- I don’t even know.”
“I’ll start the petition!” James pipes.
You smile, glad to be supported by your boys, but still relieved that your secret remains yours.
Little did you know later that night, the boys had a plan to throw a movie night with you in the common room. So at nighttime, when you had changed out of your binder so you wouldn’t sleep in it, James surprised you by barging into your room.
“Oi! It’s movie time- oh sorry.” James said, cutting himself off to cover his eyes as you put on your sweatshirt.
Remus followed him, quickly closing his eyes and turning around when he saw you, “Jeez Prongs! They’re changing!” He scolded.
“I know! That’s why I’m…” He trails off, gesturing to the hand that’s covering his eye- going completely unnoticed to Remus with his eyes shut tight.
You shake your head, a soft giggle escaping from your lips. God, they’re dramatic. “It’s okay guys, don’t stress.” You throw your sweatshirt over your head. “Nothing you haven’t seen before.”
James makes a soft grunt, before removing the hand from his eyes and taking you in. “Well, sorry again.” He says. His eyes slowly drift behind you to something on your bed, and tilts his head. “Hey what’s that?”
You almost jump, turning behind you to see your binder laid out on your bed, ready to be put away. You shudder a deep breath before trying your best to gesture nonchalantly. “It’s uh-” It’s hard not to cringe at how your voice trembles. Okay, nonchalant isn’t working. So you instead opt to be candid. “It’s my binder.”
James looks between you and the binder, his brows furrowed. “Binder…?” He questions before his eyes go wide. He paces towards you in a frenzy. “You’re not binding your magic, are you? Listen, you shoul-”
A giggle almost slips out again as you interrupt him before he explodes, “No Prongs! It’s for my chest. It binds my chest.”
Despite the reassurance that no, you were not binding your magic, James doesn’t look any less confused. If anything, he looked even more. “Why would you want to bind your chest?” He asks, his brows furrowing as he makes his way from you to the binder.
Candid, you remind yourself. You’re being candid. “So it would be flatter.” You say.
A beat passes before James replies, still looking down at the material.
“Oh.”
“Oh?” You ask. Your heart thumping in your chest with anticipation.
He makes a small squeak as he turns back to you, “I-I just didn’t realise that was something you worried about.” He says, his voice sympathetic but laced with concern. “It’s not…” He pauses,
“Is this where we’re supposed to say something to make you feel better? Because you don’t have to do that for other people you know...”
“No, I get that.” You say, a small smile making its way to your face. “This isn’t for other people, it’s for me. I’m more comfortable with myself when I wear it.” You gesture to the binder, as if it hasn’t been the subject of the past couple of minutes.
With that, James’ whole demeanour changes. The tension in his body disappears as he smiles wide. “Well then, we’re thrilled for you. Aren’t we moony?” He says, nudging Remus who has just been staring at you since the conversation started.
As if he has just awoken from a nap, Remus startles to attention. “Oh- uh yes! I’m supportive of whatever you choose as long as you're happy.” Remus replies, smiling at you before chuckling “Sorry it’s just- I knew that’s what was different.”
“You staring at their chest are you?” James teases Remus. “Perv.”
“No! I-” He exclaims, a red tint painting his face.
You smile at him, about to reassure the boy, when a crashing sound comes from downstairs before a yell echoes through the hallway. Remus mutters a small ‘fuck’s sake’ as the cause of the noise comes bounding towards your room.
“Sorry gentlemen- gender neutral, of course. The popcorn has burned.” Sirius announces before he’s entered the room, reeking of burnt popcorn with a few pieces lodged in his hair. Sharing James’ nosiness, his eyes quickly fixate on your binder. “Hey, what’s that?”
James scoffs before turning to Sirius. “It’s a binder, Padfoot, and they’re very happy.” He says with pride, his chin lifting. “Catch up.”
Remus’ attention, however, has drifted away from the binder and he asks the real important question, “How the hell do you burn magic popcorn?”
Sirius jumps to the defensive, “Hey! I’m the one who told you not to put me in charge of food!” He says, throwing his hands up. “I’m obviously more suited to the pillow gathering region.”
With a dictionary worth of swear words, Remus stomps down the hall to make some unburnt popcorn. James quickly following behind, arguing why him being the pillow gatherer was the best choice.
With Sirius and you alone, he turns to you. “Hey, it’s cool that you have that now. Reg used to use one a while ago.” He says, before grabbing your hand, “Now, let’s watch some movies on a subpar pillow arrangement.”
You laugh as you both go to follow the other two boys. “Sounds good.” You say, feeling more secure with them than ever. Your binder sitting blissfully on your bed, ready to be used again tomorrow.
poly marauders masterlist
#marauders#harry potter#poly!maraduers#marauders x reader#poly!marauders x reader#marauders fluff#marauders x y/n#marauder x you#marauders fanfic#sirius black x reader#james potter x reader#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin fluff#james potter fluff#sirius black fluff
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BREAKING: the most toxic duo is currently rotting your brain and you need to see more of them NOW!
keep reading for my very incoherent thoughts about these two
i'm crying idk why i'm so attached to ginkir suddenly but they are currently my guilty pleasure brainrot. i know gin is so so so toxic to kir (and to everyone else. what's new) but i don't ship them in the "i want them to fall in love and kiss" way i need them in the "gin is strangely and inexplicably obsessed with kir and the series will end with kir killing him with his own gun" way (incoming spoilers for movies 20 and 26 + the kir arc/the shuichi akai special collection)
i'm probably reaching with this but bear with me. gin is an impulsive, violent man. his first instinct when faced with anything is to take out his gun and shoot. he's shot kir multiple times - in the darkest nightmare, when she and bourbon were chained to a pole for being on the NOC list, then in black iron submarine, when she was standing in between gin and the eur•p•l agent he wanted dead. OKAY. but he's never shot her with the intent of killing her AND I KNOW THAT'S A LOW BAR BUT BEAR WITH ME.
gin kills as a safeguard!! he killed akemi because of her relationship with an fb! agent and she'd become a liability. he wants to kill haibara because she escaped and is a liability. but after kir gets literally captured by the fb! AND is suspected to be a NOC, gin doesn't...gaf?? gin goes through so much trouble to get her back alive when he could've just blown up all the fbi vans and gotten rid of not only kir, who may have become a liability at this point, but also a bunch of fb! agents to snipe their manpower?? ok gin
"she's an absolute beast when she's cornered" ok gin. ok. is it also because she's the only woman apart from vermouth who dares to manhandle you. is that it. ok gin. i'm nowhere near done with this quote yet i fear i've truly lost my mind. gin is so clearly impressed by the lie she told him about brutally murdering the c!a agents but from what he actually sees of her firsthand he knows she's doesn't like to kill. he literally has to keep telling her "don't hesitate". gin's not dumb! he should have caught on to her lie by now! he should already know in his BONES that kir is a NOC! AND SHE'S STILL ALIVE?? ok gin
the close-up shot of kir's hand on gin's in black iron submarine as she stops him from pulling the lever. people d!ed (me). on a side note i feel like i understand gin on a whole new level after these revelations. i mean have you seen kir
to conclude i think gin is really, really strangely tolerant of kir and i love thinking about him having some sort of weird confused one-sided obsession with her that he doesn't know how to express apart from doing what he always does and holding her at gunpoint. i want this series to end with kir shooting him dead because YES i know gin's true long-established rival (cough 恋人 cough) and the one who will probably actually do him in is shuichi but shuichi's not the one who's been subjected to gin's impulsive bloodthirsty whims as part of his little evil squad ok. rena deserves this just as much as shuichi does
ok about the actual art. sorry i probably could've translated all of my ginkir thoughts into a much better more intense and analytical comic but then i started giggling like a crazy person and this happened. sorry i made gin too babygirl. i need kir to kiss me
#i think rena should kill him#sorry about the whole ESSAY#detective conan#dcmk#dcmk art#gin#gin (detective conan)#kir#rena mizunashi#hidemi hondou#black organisation#ginkir#thihart#thiha goes insane
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blaseball in the tumblr universe, part 3
🦆 peripheral-duck
i vant fucking fo this anymore i need to peave thr hellmputh. i hate moab i hate this state i need OUT i can't keep doijg this. im moving 6o fucking tennessee
🦆 peripheral-duck
thank you to everyone asking if i am okay. i woke up from a nightmare in the middle of the night to see a lost soul from the hellmouth looking in my window.
#im not moving to tennessee #that was just the only place without a blaseball team i could think of #vent
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☎️ official-jessica-telephone
for the last time. i am not the real jessica telephone! this is just a funny name!!! please stop asking me about layna i do not know her!!!
#blaseball #and tbh some of y'all are weird about celebrity relationships! #i feel so bad for the real jessphone omg #you guys need to learn what boundaries are #blaseball players are still real fucking people and no one should have to tell you this
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🦆 peripheral-duck 🔁
📖 book-terrarium Follow
📖 book-terrarium
The most recent BLASEBALL election. Not federal election. Sorry lmaooo
2,012 notes
🦞 marketplace-shellfish
Sometimes i remember blaseball first started when Ronald Reagan was president and it all makes sense for about ten seconds.
⚾️ blaseball
oh fr?
🦞 marketplace-shellfish
???? Yes????
🕑 mrclockman Follow
and it restarted when trump was president and the majority of players are queer. anyone who says that's just a coincidence is willingly being dense. blaseball is so obviously a right wing psyop to eliminate the undesirables
🦞 marketplace-shellfish
Now I'm not sure about all that.
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Just Trust Me
A Vox x Reader Ramble
A. N. I’m so damn tired but oh well. I’ll fix spelling tomorrow. Might add things? I dunno ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Btw made it gn somehow so yippee
Cw: Yandere Vox / hypnotize stuff / Grammar probably
Vox has taken a liking to his latest assistant.
As his assistant —hired by Velvette herself to get him to ‘Chill the fuck out, you mangy fuck’— you were tasked with making sure Vox wasn’t fighting with Val. And that he actually ate. You thought you died again when you saw him eat for the first time. Not too bad, right?
Right.
——
Only thing, you lived in the tower to ‘make things easier’. You wouldn’t turn down free housing. The only thing was how many electronics there were. And cameras. But, thankfully, there weren’t any in your room. He made sure to hide them well.
That, and the rather showy uniform he had you wear, were pretty normal. It was Hell, nobody was perfect. He was just making sure you wouldn’t snitch or lie or steal or whatever.
He also liked seeing his initial on you, but that’s besides the point.
——
You wouldn’t even realize anyone was wrong. If you had any suspicions in the beginning, he would easily sweet talk or even hypnotize you into listening. You were just a little birdy to admire.
Speaking of Birdy, that was his little nickname for you. A bit strange, but he probably did it to everyone. And because, you should just feel lucky to even work for him and stop questioning things-
——
After a while of being his little piece of decoration, he starts to feel… something. He doesn’t know what, be he knows that his newest intern clearly doesn’t know boundaries and don’t worry, sweetheart, he’s there to save you. From what? From him! He was trying to steal hit on you and you didn’t want that, did you?
That happened a lot. People trying to hit on you after you told them no. You did say no, right? Of course you did. And you always had him to save you from those annoying people. They were beneath you anyways.
——
He had you sit in on meetings to ‘take notes’. He really just wanted to show off the little bird he caught. Aren’t they just amazing? And nobody would steal you because you were his little Birdy. And if anybody tried, Val would have some fun during his little tantrums.
Speaking of Val, he was the whole reason for this. Vox had mostly ignored you up until Val got completely caught up with Angel Dust. With nobody for himself, he found you. His precious little Birdy. You would be all for him. You wouldn’t leave him for some stuck up prick, right? Right.
——
You can’t remember when it started, but the lines started to blur between being a bird on his shoulder to being his Birdy. But you loved it. It enjoyed the attention. It was all for you and it’ll all be worth it. All the waiting.
Waiting? Your head hurt, but Vox would be there to help. He was always there. He’d always be there for you. It certainly helped that he monitored your every move. All those cameras coming in use. He couldn’t let his Birdy get hurt.
What kind of boyfriend would he be if he did?
Boyfriend?
——
You never wanted to leave his side. Not when he was the only one to protect you. No, no, it was way too dangerous for you to leave. You might as well stay with him. All the time. Forever. Hell, you might as well move in with him at this point. And you do. It was your idea after all.
And he loves watching you do domestic chores. No more pretending to play nice. No more pretending to be okay with the bare minimum. There you were. All for him. And he would never let you go.
——
Just don’t wake up.
He doesn’t like that.
#hazbin hotel#vox x y/n#vox headcanons#yandere vox#hazbin hotel vox#hazbin vox#vox x reader#yandere vox x reader#yandere vox x y/n#yandere vox headcanons
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Little Gremlin
____________
Tags:Astarion / f!Tav, hurt, injury, mild gore, comfort, end-game spoiler-ish. SFW, Fluff
Summary: Another introspection into Astarion's little glass noggin.
Words: 2.4k
Also available on Ao3
The city outside had finally begun to settle. The city Watch and the Fists, those who had not been tadpoled during the infiltration of the Absolute, were slowly putting a stop to the looting and helping the displaced and injured to aide.
The Netherbrain had fallen and taken the Crown of Karsus with it into the Chionthar. Astarion had seen Wyll and Karlach vanish to Avernus, and his phantom heart ached for his friend. Karlach’s battle was not over, not yet. Even so, the world felt mostly right. Everyone in the world that he cared about was more or less okay. Until the sun found him.
Those tiny prickles of heat in the veins of his face and hands were so small, so gentle at first, that he almost dismissed the sensation. He’d gotten so used to very nearly being alive again that random aches and pains had become commonplace. He didn’t think much of it until the burning began to rip across any exposed centimeter of flesh, searing his nerve endings and striking terror into his undead heart.
He ran then. He could hear her, his Tav, screaming for him. He knew Gale and Halsin were holding her back to keep both of them safe, comforting her, telling her to let him go, that he’d be all right. He even recognized the flare of jealousy that he couldn’t be the one to soothe her, that they had their hands on her when he couldn’t, somewhere deep beneath the pain of his burning flesh. But there wasn’t anything he could do about it. Panic had gripped him and all he could do was run. To try to find shelter. To protect her from what he was and what he had become once again.
The warehouse cellar he found was mercifully dark and quiet, in spite of the chaos still raging in the city streets. They had won, but so much was now lost to him. The sun had turned on him like a knife turned in a hand and took him away, back to the dark. To add insult to injury, it had taken his beauty, too. It wasn’t enough that he’d live in pain and darkness with his demons, but now he had to do it as something truly monstrous. He found a moldering pile of disused burlap sacks for a bed and curled into a ball, cradling his burned face with his burned hands, and he wept until the oblivion of the pain took mercy on him and dragged in into unconsciousness.
When he woke, he was completely certain that it had all been a dream. The familiar scent of dank mildew and rot filled his nostrils. He lay on a pile of rags on a cold, hard floor. He ached all over. He fully expected that when he opened his eyes, he’d be naked, manacled to the wall of Godey’s dungeon in Cazador’s palace with a fresh web of lacerations across his face and hands and neck – punishment for some sleight Cazador had dreamed up. He whimpered and swore, eyes still shut tight as he pounded his fist against the floor, sending a white-hot jolt of pain spiraling up his arm. He should have known better. He should have known better than to believe any of the events of the last months could have been real. Good things, like friends and freedom and love, didn’t happen for him. Some people were made to suffer.
When he opened his eyes at last, there was only darkness. No animated skeleton, wielding a scourge to beat him into submission. No chains. Only the scuttling of rats and the lap of water nearby. Cazador was dead. His bones and muscles knew the absence of his late master the way they knew weight and pressure. They were truths that didn’t need questioning.
The pain was just as real whether he was caged in nightmares, or awake. He held his hands up, and they felt tight, as if the skin was shrunken too small to cover the bones and sinews within. The dismal light in that dark cellar was too weak a thing to see the true extent of the damage, but he didn’t need to see it. He knew his hands, once so clean and smooth and fine, had flared like burning magnesium. They could only be charred and cracked, with fissures of raw, bloody meat now. He hadn’t seen his face in over two centuries, and for the first time in all that time, he was glad he couldn’t see it. He didn’t want to know what horror awaited Tav when he found her again.
Tav.
Gods, could he face her like this? Would she scream? Would she vomit in revulsion at his burned and mangled face and hands if he stood before her again? He ached for her, not just for her blood, but all of her, to hold her in his arms, to hear her sing and laugh. He could go to her. She was probably at the Elfsong right now. Probably half crazed, begging the others to help her look for him. Or at least, he hoped she was. He didn’t want her suffering on his account, but he hoped that she was alive and well, that she still wanted him.
That was another new thing with Tav. She had been a seemingly endless parade of new experiences and habits, but this most recent one, hoping, was by far the most unsettling. Hope had always been a monster; a relentless little gremlin that fed false promises and made the longings and desires brutally pummel him when he was at his lowest and darkest. It was apprehension and anxiety and a tightness in his chest, and it walked hand in hand with bitter disappointment.
But with Tav, it was also lightness. With her and the hope she brought him, his jaw was unclenched for the first time in two centuries. He gave himself permission to hope because with Tav, the things he hoped for came to be more often than not.
He could hope once more, he thought. She was her, after all. No one else was like her. She’d trusted him and cared for him, when all good sense should have told her not to. He hoped she could continue to care for him, to trust him, to love him, even in whatever state he was in. In darkness and in light. In pain and in ecstasy. In beauty and in monstrosity. For better or worse.
His lips felt tight when he smiled, felt like they were cracking, but he didn’t care. The thought of holding her was enough. The thought of her going mad with worry over him was enough. He even chuckled at the thought of the shiner she had probably given Gale as he tried to hold her back.
Very well, decision made. He would find her and accept the outcome.
When he emerged from the warehouse cellar, he was surprised to find that things were better off than he had feared. He’d found a whole nest of rats, which, vile as they were, were still vital. As he drank each one, he felt the creature’s blood filling his veins, soothing those scorched delicate passages within him. In the light of the fires the Watch had lit in braziers all around the lower city, he could see his hands were not the melted and charred ruin of flesh he pictured. He couldn’t tell about his face, but it didn’t feel so stretched, either.
Astarion kept to the shadows as he picked his way around rubble and the ruined homes and shops. When at last he reached the Elfsong, he was surprised by how little damage the tavern had sustained. The damn thing was not only still standing, unscarred, but it was open for business. Roaring, too, by the look of it. He stood in the darkness of the burned-out shell of what used to be the headquarters of the Baldur’s Mouth Gazette, watching the comings and goings. And then, suddenly, she was there.
Bathed in moonlight, she stood on the balcony like an ingenue taking the stage in a play. Even at a distance, Astarion could see she was as much of a wreck as he imagined she would be, and it made his phantom heart flutter with joined delight and misery. She was still in her leather and scale mail, still covered in blood and grime. Her hair was pushed back off her face as if she’d run her hands through it so many times that gravity gave up and let it just stay that way. He couldn’t stop smiling.
Tav was scanning the street, watching the patrons as they came and went, obviously searching. For what, exactly, Astarion didn’t know, but that little hope gremlin that had taken up residence somewhere behind his ear whispered to him that she was looking for him. The clouds scudded out of the way of the full moon, dousing the sad remains of the broadsheet’s foyer in sickly yellow-gray light. She saw him. Stared at him, her mouth hanging open. People passed in the street. Time slowed. Astarion was sure that if there had been music playing, it would have faded out with all other sounds as they looked at each other.
As if a spell had broken, she bolted through the balcony doors. Astarion could hear the commotion inside their rooms, could almost track Tav’s progress as she tore through the upper floor of the tavern and the noisy bar room below. She burst through the doors at street level, tripped over some rubble still littering the street before all but launching herself into his arms. She was usually so careful of his sensitivity to touch. It warmed his cold dead heart to see her put own need for reassurance ahead of him for a change.
He thought she would bombard him with a tirade of “do you know what you dids” and “how could yous,” but it never came. Instead, she just held him, her arms and legs wrapped around him, so similar to the first night they had slept together, but so much more genuine. More real. Just more. His hands hurt where they cradled her weight against him, but it was nothing. She wanted him, without his asking, and any pain was far away, blocked by the radiance he felt with her in his arms. She leaned her forehead against his, her natural heat stinging the still tender burns there, but he wouldn’t move her. He’d die with her like that if it was what she wanted.
“Come upstairs,” she whispered at last. She slithered down his body, taking his still-wounded hand in her own without hesitation. Astarion imagined all of the eyes on him as they waded through first the pub full of strangers and then the common room full of their companions, but no one said a word. If they had been coached or were stunned into silence, he didn’t know. Whatever the case, he was glad for it. When at last they were alone in the bathroom, she pulled him into her arms again and brushed her lips against his swollen, tender ones.
“It’s awful, isn’t it?” he asked, not sure he wanted the answer. Smiling, she delicately cupped his cheek in her palm, called him a beautiful idiot and told him to get undressed.
And that was the end of it. No flinching, no sad look that was too full of pity. No rallying speech about how he’d be better in no time. She just called him beautiful, like she always did, and called him an idiot. Like she always did. To her, nothing had changed. No matter what his face looked like, he was still him and she still loved him.
In the bath, with her back against his chest, she told him how after he left, she had indeed punched Gale, and she may have accidentally kicked Halsin in the worst possible place as he carried her away from the pier. Both of them were still salty about it. As Astarion gently scrubbed dried blood and dirt from her body and face, she told him how this was the first time she had stopped moving in the 24 hours since the brain had fallen. She had helped refugees and sifted through rubble to find survivors. She’d loaded dead illithids onto carts. She did anything she could to keep herself from running blindly after him into the wreckage of the burning city. Mercifully, Gale had stopped her from trying to cook for the city’s newly unhoused.
Her yawns grew more frequent as they talked. Though she insisted she still wanted him to feed from her, and then, perhaps, make love to her, Astarion could see her spirit was willing, but the flesh was growing weaker by the moment.
They were both still naked when he carried her to bed in the gray hour before dawn. She rolled onto her side to give him access to her neck and was fast asleep before he finished feeding.
Astarion woke from true sleep as the sun was setting on the following evening. Tav was still asleep, curled with her back against his chest in the same position she had been when he had drifted off himself. It wasn’t dark enough yet for him to venture out, but in truth, very little could have made him want to. He was still amazed at how her blood sang in his veins, how it had repaired most of the sun’s damage, leaving only a few faint red lines on the backs of his hands where the burns had been the worst. He’d known he loved her, possibly from the very start when he held a knife to her throat, but any doubts about it had long since evaporated.
As if she could feel him watching her, Tav stirred, muttering in her sleep. He lay beside her, head propped up on one palm, and thought to himself that this was what he wanted most. It wasn’t power, or wealth, or even to be free to walk in the sun again. If this was to be his life, for the rest of his life, it was all he could hope for. He could live without all of the other things if it meant opening his eyes and seeing this beautiful woman, asleep next to him, drooling a little as she snored.
____________
Notes:
Hope you enjoyed this little fluffy self-indulgent introspection.
Musical Inspiration – Sight of the Sun – Fun, Miss You So Badly – Jimmy Buffett, Hallelujah – Leonard Cohen (Rufus Wainright version)
Visual Inspiration - https://www.tumblr.com/daintysclaw/746584182996844544/the-pic-lmaoo?source=share
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I like to think that Tim’s parents never let him grow his hair out and when he moves into Wayne manor he’s mildly terrified that they’ll make him cut his hair too, and is amazed when they don’t. He damn near has a panic attack the first time someone sees that it’s getting long and asks if he wants to get it cut. But they never make him cut it, not even when it’s long enough put in a ponytail.
I have this fic scene in my head where someone, maybe Damian once he’s warmed up to Tim, starts bleaching his hair in his sleep as a prank and he has a full blown panic attack. He attacks the heck out of whoever’s doing it and starts hyperventilating when someone grabs him and holds him back.
ok i love long hair!tim as much as the next person (fuck batman: arkham knight) but oh do i love the idea that he never really gets to explore that part of himself until he moves into wanye manor.
like imagine you've got this poor little kid, who's terrified of so many things that he should just. not be scared of (tim w/no rational fears + tim w/all the non-rational fears). retaliating to a suggestion of a haircut being one of them.
he's moved into this new place where the people are more accepting and willing to show love than anyone in his life has ever been. he's slowly but surely learning to undo all the past notions he holds about what would happen if he 'disobeyed' or made honest mistakes. but among the few things he just can't let go off, it's this whole thing about his hair.
so when bruce makes some offhand comment about 'we should probably take you to the barbers at some point' and tim completely freezes next to him, he stops and asks '..do you want to get your hair cut?' and when tim can't even open his mouth to give his honest answer, bruce just shrugs his shoulders and says 'no big deal, just let me or alfred know if you ever do'. tim is gobsmacked.
his head reels wondering why he wasn't scolded for not agreeing, or had his silence taken as 'wanting to look feral', and reprimanded for that as well. i don't think he really accepts it as completely okay right then and there though.
he takes it more a warning that they're noticing his hair's length, and that it will certainly need to be cut when they pay enough attention to see it again. so he styles it to look as short as he can get it, and wears a lot of hats for the time being. until one day when it's well and truly at his shoulders, alfred comments 'your hair looks nice today master timothy', and it takes tim just more than a split second to realise the compliment was genuine. i think that's when he lets the fear go.
although that doesn't stop him from freaking out when a villain's weapon slices through or yanks out some of his hair, or when he's in a vulnerable enough state (tired, hurt, etc) and someone mentions cutting his hair. the fear might not be there constantly lingering in the back of his head anymore, but it definitely pops up when he least expects it to.
#big fan of a tim who's oh so aware of manipulation tactics from his dad and has a problem with convincing himself any interaction he has#with anyone involves some level of manipulation#so he thinks bruce being so nice about hair cuts is just a scare tactic to force him into it. or use the conversation against him#anyways#i think the potential of trauma responses for the batboys is severely under-explored in the comics#ted talk over#asks#writtenreblogs#!!!!!!!!!!!!!#tim drake#batman#bruce wayne#red robin#robin#batboys#dc batman#dc comics#dcu#dc#gothihop speaks
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inspired by A Second Life by Die_Erlkonigin6083
“—lo?”
What?
“—an you hear us?”
Go away.
“The levels are stable. We should see if—”
He can’t move; he’s floating in place with wires attached to him. He can’t breathe; there’s some sort of liquid all around him. He can’t see; the liquid gel substance presses against his eyelids, forcing them shut.
“Process starting in three, two, one!”
What process? Just let him sleep.
“WARNING: SUBJECT F-4N70M DESTABILIZING. PLEASE CHECK ACTIVITY LOG.”
It’s getting warmer. He wants it to get cooler. Why is it getting warmer? He hates it. It only gets warmer when they’re doing tests. People are loudly talking to each other—or is it to him?
Is this another test?
-
He slowly opens his eyes. It is bright, in the way all of the Rooms are, sterilized white the only color on the walls. But there’s blue curtains surrounding the bed he’s in. They never let him have curtains.
Actually, there are a lot of differences between where he is and the Rooms. It’s hard to move, but when he turns his head to the side, it’s not only chairs and machinery that he sees, but there’s also a small table with flowers in a vase, and pillows stacked next to it. There is a tube connected to his nose, and another one leading to his arm. But the discomfort cannot compare to the awe he feels when he looks through the window and sees the darkness outside, speckled with lights.
He can see millions of lights past the window, glowing, tauntingly beyond his reach. It is overwhelming. It is the most beautiful thing he has ever seen.
He has to get closer.
Getting his body to move is the hardest thing he’s ever done. He clumsily paws at the tubes until they fall off and in the process tumbles out of his bed, crashing onto the floor. The machinery has gotten louder now, a constant screeching that he ignores as he painstakingly makes his way to the window. He has to slowly drag himself most of the way, but it’s worth it when he props himself against the wall, closer to the lights.
He hasn’t been there for more than a few minutes when someone sits next to him. “Hello,” the person—who was not there when he woke up—says. “What are we looking at?”
Why does the person have to look with him? He was looking at the lights first! “The lights,” he says. It’s quieter than he meant it to be. His voice is hoarse, and it actually hurts him to talk.
Something cool is pressed to his hand. “It’s water,” the person says. He doesn’t look away from the lights as the person sighs. He can’t curl his fingers enough to grab it. A hand presses against his chest, leaning him back into an embrace. Another hovers a few inches in front of his face, blocking his view of the lights.
Angrily, he looks at the other. The person smiles indulgently and uses the blocking hand to then grab the cup of water and raise it to his mouth. While he’s forced to slowly drink, the person says, “We call those lights ‘stars.’ Do you like stars?”
Carefully, he nods his head, a bit of water dribbling down his chin. Stars.
“I do too. Did you know there are other planets out there? My name actually came from one of those planets: my name is Nightwing. Do you have a name?” Nightwing asks slowly, placing the empty cup on the floor and then wiping the wet off his chin.
He also seems disappointed when all he gets in response is a blank stare.
“Okay then, kiddo,” Nightwing says. “Let’s get you back to bed.” The man shifts so that he’s now held against his waist. Then he gets up and they move back towards the bed with the blue curtains. They’re leaving the stars. Why are they leaving the stars? Is it because he didn’t answer? He weakly struggles against Nightwing, a whine leaving his throat. “Shh, shh, it’s alright, it’s okay. You can still see the stars from the bed.”
But it isn’t the same! Frustrated, he tries to bite Nightwing’s shoulder to get him to stop, because even the biggest scientist stopped when he did it, but even that doesn’t work because Nightwing’s stupid black and blue suit is too tough!
“Aw, baby don’t do that. This is special material, you’re just going to hurt your teeth.” Don’t tell him what to do. He stubbornly bites down harder.
The sheets are cool against his skin and Nightwing uses his hand to press against his chin and cheeks in a certain way that loosens the bite enough that he can detach him.
Ignoring the glare directed at his whole being, Nightwing then tidies some previously unnoticed papers on the bedside table and hums a little tune. “You know, if you don’t have a name, then I can name you. What about. . . Babywing? Or . . . Pythagoras?”
“Name?” he asks, unable to have before. “What is. . .?”
He trails off at the end, but Nightwing seems to have understood, frowning for a moment before smiling again. “A name is what people call you. It’s who you are, in a way.”
He doesn’t know what a Pythagoras was, but he does know he doesn’t want to be called that. “‘M not a baby,” he rasps.
Nightwing pauses and looks at him with a smile, probably pleased he was talking. “Well, your charts say you’re seven. So you’re basically a baby. A baby with no name, which I shall now fix by naming you. . . Small Boy!”
“You’re not good at naming,” he informs the adult. He’s forced to drink more water before he continues, unimpressed. “I have a name.”
“Nuh-uh,” says Nightwing. “I would’ve known, Small Boy.”
“Yes, I do.” His throat has gone dry and Nightwing seems to notice as he produces another cup of water out of nowhere and helps him drink again. “They called me Phantom.”
Never to his face. Never when talking to him. But sometimes, they would shorten his label to Phantom when talking to each other, something easier for them to say. To him and to the lab recordings, he was referred to as Subject F-4N70M only. But the thought of Nightwing—the only person to treat him like a person—using his label, a string of letters and numbers. . . it gives him a weird feeling of shame.
Nightwing blinks. “Phantom? That’s. . . a very nice name.”
He shrugs. It’s not like he chose it. “It’s not a normal name,” he mumbles. None of the people in the lab have names like Phantom.
Nightwing sits on the edge of the bed, giving him a gentle look. “Well, I think it’s fine. Nightwing isn’t a very normal name, either. Phantom sounds cool. Like a hero’s name.”
“What is a hero?”
The frown is back again for a second before the gentleness replaces it. “Someone who helps and saves people. My hero name is Nightwing.”
“You’re a hero?” he says in slight wonder. “You saved me. You were the voice I heard.” It makes sense: if anyone fits the label of hero, it would be Nightwing, he thinks.
“You could hear us when you were in stasis? Well, I was the one there, and I am a hero! But hey,” Nightwing quickly adds, “If you want to have a different name then you can! You don’t have to keep the name they gave you.”
“Really?” It is barely above a whisper.
“Really,” Nightwing responds, firmly.
“Can I,” he starts, voice small, “have—there’s this name I—“ He swallows and looks around nervously. Waving Nightwing closer, the hero indulgently leans over. He says it so quietly it might have been a murmur: “Can my name be Danny?”
“Danny?”
He nods. He’s never said that name aloud before; it’s only ever been floating in his mind—in fact, he’s never really said it even in his mind. But he knows, as soon as the name leaves his mouth, that it’s his. “Yeah. Danny, not—not Daniel, Danny.”
Nightwing smiles widely, warmly. “Danny with the bluest eyes,” he coos.
Danny smiles back, shy but undeniably happy. A yawn escapes him, making him a bit surprised. When another one escapes him, Nightwing laughs and says, “Time for bed, I think.”
“I am in a bed already,” Danny says.
“No, like—I mean it’s time to sleep.”
Danny tries not to flinch, although he probably wilts judging by how Nightwing’s face goes a bit worried. “Oh. Where’s the capsule?” he asks, looking around as if he just missed it the first time and it was in a corner he hadn't thought to check.
Nightwing frowns. “Your capsule?”
“Yes. Where else would I sleep?” Danny asks. Nightwing’s face does something complicated. Danny hopes this isn’t when he finally gets upset and angry at him.
#danny’s like seven or smth btw and in an alternate universe#genuinely do not care if anyone adds to this feel free#dc x dp#also really go check out a second life it’s so good#dick seeing his sort of son already flippant about hospitals: yeah i can see it#dick left to get water so of course that’s when danny woke up
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