#and i try to keep negative stuff away from here

[nastybuckybarnes]

Coal - Three

Pairing: Alpha!Simon 'Ghost' Riley X Omega!Reader

Summary: Your Alpha gets a wake-up call that he was not wanting nor expecting.

Warnings: A/b/o dynamics, military inaccuracies, language, sexual themes, smut, injuries, lowkey mean!simon, kinda enemies to lovers...

Word Count: 4.5K

A/N: did not expect this kinda response to this story ngl but im so so so glad you guys are enjoying it!

~*~

"I don't know how else I can say this. There's no getting rid of her. As long as you remain employed here, these are the terms," Price huffs out, collapsing in his desk chair.

Simon only glares at him.

"But... you do make a valid point," the Captain adds after a moment.

Some tension eases from the Lieutenant's shoulders.

"She's a part of our pack now, and we cannot let that negatively impact our performance on the field."

The very idea of his Sergeants being shit shots simply because a sweet smelling Omega is present is appalling, to say the least.

"I'll have a chat with Laswell, see what her thoughts are. She's going to ask about you," he adds when Simon turns to leave.

The man pauses, one hand on the doorknob, then glances at his Captain over his shoulder.

"She's going to want to know how things are... progressing," he elaborates, "how the two of you are doing. She's already been tossing around the idea of... forced proximity. I don't want to hafta put you through that, Son. I know how you feel about this whole thing and... I just don't want you making this worse on her or on you."

Grunting his acknowledgement, Simon exits the office without another word.

He knows.

He f u c k i n g knows.

Hanging his head he huffs out a heavy sigh then snaps his head forward and yanks his phone out of his pocket.

His fingers hover over the newest contact he was forced to add for a long moment before finally shooting off a text.

He stuffs his phone back into his pocket then heads to the rec room to wait.

You're startled awake by the sound of a heavy fist banging against your door.

Heart in your throat, you rush to check the peephole, your anxiety increasing tenfold when you see who's outside.

Carefully unlocking it, you tug the door open and look up at him nervously.

"When I fucking text you, you answer. Got it?"

You blink up at him a few times in confusion then turn to where your phone lies on your desk.

"I-I'm sorry, I was asleep," you try to explain, rushing over to grab the phone in question.

Simon's firm hand holds the door open, his glare focused on you as you return to the doorway.

"I don't care what your excuse is," he spits, "it could be life or death. You can sleep when you're dead, which you'll obviously be soon if you keep this shit up."

"Okay, I-I'm sorry," you whisper, voice thick as unshed tears sting your eyes.

"Don't be sorry, be better."

His words bite in a way that nothing before ever has, but you find yourself nodding quickly anyway.

"Yes, I'll be better, I promise."

He turns and walks away before you're even finished talking, leaving you stunned in the doorway.

You don't even notice the tears falling until you've closed the door.

Your first real interaction with him and it probably couldn't have gone worse if you tried.

Scrubing your hands over your face you wipe away the evidence of your tears and square your shoulders.

'Don't be sorry, be better.'

The words ring in your ears as you lock your door. They echo through your mind as you strip naked and turn the water on cold.

They pound against your temples as the cool water beats down on you.

They pull your shoulders back as you walk with Price through the mess the next morning.

'Be better' is the mantra that has you chewing each bite of food silently while the rest of the pack chats like nothing is amiss.

Finally, the opportunity to 'be better' arises.

You're sitting at your desk, lids heavy as you read through another book.

Since that first night you've been doing everything you can to stay awake into the early hours of the morning.

From cold baths, to exercising, to reading, to making and re-making your nest.

Your phone vibrating jolts you to full awareness, and you're up and on your feet in the same moment.

It takes a half-second to read the text, another to process it, and thirty-five to get yourself ready to march through the hallways of the base.

You try to move as quickly as you can, not wanting to let your Alpha down again.

Finally, after what feels like forever, you push open the door to the gym with two water bottles held tightly in your grasp.

Soap and Ghost pause their sparring when you enter, and you feel your face screw up in confusion.

Your heart rate slowly returns to normal as Simon approaches and grabs a water bottle from you, taking the second and handing it to Soap.

With empty arms, you stand there, staring at him and waiting for your next command.

You stand there for almost five minutes before Simon even addresses you, and when he does it's just a lifting of a brow as if to ask why you're still standing there.

Slowly, you turn on your heel and exit the room, risking a glance over your shoulder at the door only to find the two of them sparring once more.

The entire walk back to your quarters you ponder what just happened.

You even go so far as to re-read the words on the screen to make sure you're not missing anything.

'Bring two water bottles to the gym.'

You're not even sure what you thought would've happened after bringing the water bottles, but this certainly wasn't it.

And this is only the beginning.

Texts similar to this one start to ring in almost every night.

A text at 4am telling you to bring him tea. Another text at 6am telling you to prepare his plate at breakfast (a plate that sits untouched when he doesn't join you in the mess).

A text at midnight telling you to bring a book to his office and then another when you're on your way telling you to leave it on the floor outside the door.

Though the texts come more frequently, his attitude towards you otherwise stays the same.

It nearly gives you whiplash, and it does nothing to make you feel safer here, in your new home.

And, as if you didn't have enough to worry about, your unclaimed status has become apparent to a few of the more handsy Alphas on base.

"I'm starting to look forward to our little cat and mouse game," one man says, caging you against the wall.

You keep your eyes down and your chin tucked, heart hammering against your ribs.

Seconds before his fingers make contact with your skin he's yanked away from you, an angry Alpha separating the two of you.

"If you're fond of having hands, I'd advise keeping them to yourself. This is the Lieutenant's Omega. Can you imagine all the thing's he'd do to you if he found out you were touching what's his?"

The Alpha stiffens, blood draining from his face.

Only when Captain Price turns to face you does the other man run away, not sparing the two of you another glance.

"Are you okay?"

You don't miss a single beat.

"I'm fine."

He scoffs, as if he's not drowning in the scent of your distress.

"No, are you okay?"

Your mouth opens and closes a few times before settling closed. You can't lie to him, but you can't tell him the truth.

You can't tell him about your sleepless nights, the fear that ices your spine whenever your eyes close. You can't tell him about the image of Simon holding a gun toward you, his eyes icy and cold.

So you say nothing.

"Walk with me."

You obey, falling into a step beside him and keeping your eyes cast down.

The two of you walk in silence for a bit, until you come to a stop outside of his office door.

He digs in his pocket, looking for the key.

"How long has this been happening?" His voice is firm, demanding a straight forward answer.

You let out a heavy breath before answering, and Price can't help but wrinkle his nose as fear overpowers your normally sweet and homey scent.

The key is turning in the lock when you speak.

"Since the first week I got here."

A growl rumbles deeply in his chest and your eyes snap up to his face.

You instinctively break away from him, taking a few quick steps back.

Immediately realizing his mistake, he takes a few deep, calming breaths, then opens the door to his office.

"I'm not mad at you, Omega. You've done nothing wrong."

His use of your title eases your nerves, and the certainty of his words has your shoulders relaxing as you follow him into his office.

He takes his hat off and sets it down on his desk, then takes a seat in the chair, motioning for you to sit down.

You take a seat on the couch along the wall, curling your legs up and shrinking in on yourself.

"If anyone ever bothers you again, you come to us. Any one of us, and we will deal with them." Though he doesn't directly command it, you know this is an order.

It takes a fair amount of self-control for you to stop yourself from scoffing, though.

Sure, he and the two Betas may help you, but your mate seems more than indifferent toward you.

"We're a pack, a family. And... I know Simon might not be the most accepting or agreeable, but we do see you as part of the pack. You're one of us now."

His words tickle a soft spot in your heart and you can't help the tears that well up in your eyes.

Slowly, you lift your eyes to his, and utter what could be one of the most heartbreaking things he's ever heard.

"I wish my Alpha was as kind to me as you are."

Price's shoulders sag and his face falls. He opens his mouth to speak but you're already on your feet.

"I'd better go. Thank you for your help earlier, Captain."

And with that, you take your leave, hurrying through the halls until you get to the safety of your nest.

Captain Price sits in his office for a long while until finally, finally, firing a text off to Simon.

The Lieutenant is in his office two minutes later.

He stiffens upon entry, your distressed scent lingering in the office.

"You would do well to put a mark on that neck of hers. If not for your sake, than for hers," The Captain says, leaning back in his chair and pinching the bridge of his nose.

All of this has, so far, been far more complicated than he had initially thought it would be.

"What are you talking about?"

What else could the Omega possibly have to complain about? It bothers him to no end that you would go to Price with your complaints.

"Corporal Stevens had her caged against the wall, can only imagine what would've happened if I hadn't stepped in. And apparently this has been going on for a while now."

This pisses Simon off for a whole new reason.

"Why didn't she say anything before?"

Who the fuck would even dare to touch you? To put their hands on something that obviously belongs to someone else?

"Have you ever given her a chance to?"

This shuts him up.

Because Price is right. Not once has Simon given you any indication that he is a safe space, someone you can turn to if you're being bothered.

"Stevens, you said?" He asks, a new determination on his face.

Price heaves a sigh, dragging a hand down his exhausted face.

"Don't do anything I'll need to file paperwork on."

A beat of silence passes between the two of them before Price speaks again.

"If nothing else just... be gentle with her. There's... a girl in there, a young one. One whose scared. Very afraid and very lost and she has no one but us. She can be more than just... what you're making her. If you let her."

Though he externally seems unaffected, Price's words have a deep impact on Simon, burrowing in to his core.

It rouses his inner Alpha, and he can't help but feel upset with himself for pushing you away the way he did.

Sure, he may not be on board, but a little Omega like yourself shouldn't be getting harassed by other Alphas who know damn well they shouldn't even be looking at you much less touching you.

Rising to his feet, he turns on his heel and marches straight toward your quarters.

He's not sure what he wants to say, he just knows that he needs to say something. Needs you to know that if people are bothering you you need to tell him so he can make an example of them.

As he lifts his fist to knock, the door swings open and you stumble into his chest.

A gasp leaves your lips at the sudden presence, and a shiver runs down your spine as warm hands wrap around you to bring you back to your feet.

As quickly as they were on you, his hands retreat.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, taking a step back only for your back to collide with the door to your quarters.

He quickly shakes his head, raising one hand up to silence you.

You drop your head, your inner Omega preparing for whatever lashing awaits, but you're surprised when he speaks and holds no malice in his voice.

Well, none for you at least.

"If anyone so much as looks at you in a way you don't like, you tell me. Got it?"

Your eyes find his face and you feel your brows pull together.

"Wh-what?"

He takes an instinctive step forward and you can feel the heat radiating off of his chest.

"Let me scent you."

"What?"

He says nothing, only stares at you waiting for your consent.

All the times you imagined being scented by your Alpha, this was never the way it played out.

Slowly, you nod, tilting your head back to give him more access to your throat.

He wastes no time, one hand firm on your waist while the other tugs his balaclava up over his nose.

A sharp gasp leaves you as his nose drags across your neck, and you can't help but bring your hands up to his shoulders, nails digging in as he begins taking deep breaths.

He huffs heavily against your skin, drowning you in his scent and overpowering the lingering distress that clings to you.

Your eyes roll back into your head and you whimper softly, your inner Omega preening at the proximity, at finally having his hands on you.

A soft rumbling sound erupts between the two of you, and it takes you a moment to realize it's coming from you.

After minutes that, in truth, feel like both hours and seconds, he pulls away. His pupils are blown wide, balaclava pulled back down over his mouth, and his hand on your waist flexes the tiniest bit.

You blink heavily up at him, purring softly as all your nerves settle now that you've been so thoroughly scented.

"Where were you off to?" He asks after a moment, dropping his other hand down to your waist. His voice is huskier than before, deeper and warmer. You want to burrow into the sound.

You slide your hands down his shoulders to rest on his chest, humming happily in his embrace.

"The rec room... Soap..." you trail off, eyes foggy and mind full of haze.

He hums, sliding a hand over to the small of your back and leading you away from your room.

"Don't want you going anywhere on your own. Not until the others here understand who you belong to. Scent should help."

A shiver ripples down your spine at his words.

Who you belong to.

You belong to him. He's scented you, you're his now. He's accepted it.

As he leads you through the halls he can't help but marvel at how pliant you've become. He wonders if you'd put up a fuss at all if he were to bend you over and knot you right here in the open.

His inner Alpha grows restless at the idea, clawing against the heavy restraints the military has ingrained in him.

Risking a glance down at your hooded eyes, he's certain he could ask you to get on all fours and present like the good Omega you are and you'd do it without hesitation.

The conversation between Gaz and Soap comes to an abrupt halt when they see their Lieutenant ushering you into the room, your eyes far away and your scent heavily masked by that of the big man at your side.

"Don't let 'er go anywhere alone," he barks, handing you off to Soap when the Scot rises to meet the two of you.

"What's goin' on?" He asks, brows furrowed at the determined look on Simon's face.

They have a silent conversation with their eyes, and then Soap is tugging you down to sit between him and Gaz on the couch while Simon turns to find the prick who thought it was okay to touch what belongs to him.

"Hey, little one. How you doing?" Kyle asks, a comforting hand finding its way to your back.

You hum happily and turn to him, nuzzling your face into his chest.

"Jesus, if this is what happens when you scent the bird I can only imagine wha' she'll be like once she's claimed," Soap says with a grin.

Though his face is happy and relaxed, Gaz can see the tension in his shoulders. He knows that whatever happened to force Simon to scent you couldn't have been good.

"M'his," you murmur, slowly opening your eyes and looking up at the man.

"Yeah?"

You nod. "Said so himself," you boast quietly, a smile pulling at your lips.

Gaz and Soap exchange their own pleased glances before turning their attention back to you.

~*~

Like clockwork, there's a knock on your door the next morning.

Your breath hitches when you open the door and, instead of Captain Price, Lieutenant Riley stands there instead.

He says nothing, only steps aside to give you room to walk beside him.

You're nervous, he can smell it as his hand finds your lower back.

No words are spoken between the two of you as he leads you to the mess, and no eyes follow as the skull-faced Alpha fills up a plate of food then ushers you to your usual seat.

Butterflies swarm your belly when he places the plate down in front of you, then takes his usual seat beside Soap.

There's a brief moment of silence around the table before Gaz gives you a bright smile and wishes you good morning.

Price's eyes connect with Simon's and he gives the Alpha an approving nod, the corners of his mouth turning upward at the energy of the pack.

His pack.

A prickle of anxiety races down your spine and you straighten immediately, eyes darting around for the source.

Your fork clatters to the table when you finally meet his gaze, and you shrink in on yourself a little.

A man, an Alpha, has his steely glare focused on you. His face is more blue and purple than anything else, his neck is secured in a brace, and his right arm is in a sling.

Quickly, you turn your gaze back to your food and pick up your fork, not wanting to make a scene anymore than you're sure you already have.

A low growl rumbles from across the table and you lift your gaze to the man in question, only to find his eyes focused on the injured Alpha who cornered you against the wall.

When you look back over at him, his eyes are on the ground.

A soft breath of relief leaves your lips, one that does not go unnoticed by your pack mates, and then your eyes are drifting back to Simon's only to find them already locked on you.

Your breath hitches and you find yourself stuck once more, unable to look away no matter how much you want to.

His brown eyes lack the usual layer of ice that would frost over them whenever he would look at you. Now, there's something warm in them.

It's such a drastic change from the Alpha that brushed past you that first day in the hall, the one who referred to you as 'a pet'.

A complete 180 from the Alpha who would summon you to the gym just to bring him a water bottle.

Or maybe not.

That night, a text wakes you from your light slumber.

'Bring two water bottles to the gym.'

Sighing heavily, you force yourself to your feet and trudge out of your room to obey his command.

When you get to the gym, however, you're surprised to see no one inside.

Taking a hesitant step forward, you sniff the air, searching for his -now familiar- scent.

You catch it a second too late, and then he's on you. Big arms wrapping around your frame from behind, one hand holding your throat.

A strangled squeak leaves your lips and the water bottles drop onto the floor.

"If you're not with one of us, you can never let your guard down," Simon's voice growls lowly in your ear.

You whimper, trying to tug out of his grip but he doesn't relent.

"There's a reason why everyone who knew you has been led to believe that you're dead. If you don't start watching your back, you will be."

Finally, he lets you go and you stumble forward, panting heavily.

"You're going to learn to fight."

Your brows draw together and you slowly turn to look at him, not understanding.

"That's why you called me down here?"

A slight dip of his head is all the response you get.

"I-I... at least let me get changed," you try, taking a step toward the door.

He sidesteps directly in your way, forcing you to collide with his solid chest.

He's wearing a tight black t-shirt, leaving his thick tattooed arms on full display for your hungry gaze.

His hands grab your wrists, forcing you to stay put.

"The kinda men who want to hurt you aren't going to wait until you've got yoga pants and running shoes on," he says stoically.

Now, in such close proximity, you can finally get a better look at him.

The skull plate has been discarded, a black balaclava all that covers his face.

Freckles lightly dot the exposed skin you can see, and his lashes are blond.

Your Alpha has blond hair.

"Why do people want to hurt me?" You ask.

Your voice comes out as a meek whimper, and it tugs on his heart.

This is exactly why he's refused Omegas before.

"Mostly because they can. You're small, weak. A thing to be conquered. Men want that. Alphas want that."

You frown up at him, letting your little hands go limp in his arms.

"But... I have your scent..." and one day I'll have your mark, is what you don't say.

"That fact alone draws danger." He releases your arms and leads you to the center of the room, circling you like you're his prey.

"You'll never overpower an Alpha. Not physically. Run. Always run. Your scent is too sweet to hide, but it can confuse. Strip down as much as you can, throw your clothes in opposite directions. It will, at the very least, buy you some time. And if you're ever in close proximity with someone who wants to hurt you..."

He trails off behind you and you feel the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

Your instincts take over as he pounces, and you quickly sidestep, turning to face him.

"Wait!"

"Your enemy won't wait," He hisses, coming at you again.

This time you slip under his arm, sprinting as far away as you can in the limited space.

"You're not my enemy," you gasp, turning around only for him to be right in front of you.

"Right now I am. And you're caught." He grabs your throat with one big hand. His grip isn't hard enough to hurt, but it is enough to assert his dominance over you.

"You're easy to catch, anyone could have their way with you, knot you, claim you. Is that what you want?!"

His words strike a nerve and before you know what you're doing you taste blood in your mouth and his arm drops away from you.

Simon stares at you with wide eyes, shocked at the feral look on your face and the harsh growl rumbling in your chest.

The bite didn't necessarily hurt, but it was more than enough to stun him for a moment. And a moment is the difference between life and death.

Maybe his Omega isn't as helpless as he thought.

The momentary pause gives you enough time to process what happened, where the taste of blood is coming from, and then you're covering your mouth with your hands.

"I-I'm so sorry!"

He shakes his head, "don't be. That was perfect."

You can't help but preen at his words, his approval, his praise.

"Let me clean this," you whisper, taking a closer look at his forearm.

He says nothing, you're moving before he has a chance. So instead, he watches you.

Watches as you exist in your truest nature, caring for him even after all he's done, all he's put you through.

You grab the first aid kit from the wall and hurry back over to him, ushering him to sit down and kneeling in front of him.

He extends his arm to you, his eyes on your face the entire time as you clean and dress his wound.

Your fingers tremble the slightest bit when you touch him, and you immediately notice the way goosebumps rise on his skin.

Without thinking, you look up at him through your lashes only to find his intense gaze already focused on you.

Your scent spikes, a hint of anxiety tainting the sweetness, and he finds himself naturally exuding his own calming scent.

Finally, you finish bandaging him, smoothing your fingers over the gauze on his wrist only to gasp when his other hand snatches yours up.

He turns your hand over in his, using his other hand to lightly, like the kiss of the moonlight, dust over your skin.

It's a short moment, and then he's releasing you and the careful wall he's built up between the two of you is put back in place.

"You did good. You're tougher than you seem," he says softly.

You give him a half smile.

"I hope I don't have to be tough too often."

[frikatilhi]

I am so tired

[mars-ipan]

kinda funny when ur brain’s gut instinct is repression so you just kinda watch while your stress and emotions get bottled and corked and the whole time ur just like “that is going to bite me in the ass so bad later but i can’t seem to open the damn bottles without getting glass everywhere so! guess we’ll wait”

[notjustjavierpena]

Hello, i hope this isn’t too much but i really admire your courage to write the hard stuff that goes on between javi and his wife. would you ever write something about the struggles they had about conceiving lucas?

Crazy

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: Hiya, anon! This was such a rollercoaster to write but thanks so much for giving me the needed push. Also tysm for the compliment 🥺

Summary: Thoughts of infertility take a toll on you and Javier's marriage.

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: Infertility, arguments, apologies, hurt/comfort, angst, emotional sex, lots of kissing, pussy eating, piv sex, mating press, creampie, pillowtalk, aftercare

Word count: 6k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/64569853

Crazy

You can’t help but count the months. Seven long ones with still no baby growing in your belly. Seven and counting since you went off your birth control, a ridiculous thought that leaves a bitter taste in your mouth since it turned out that you hadn’t needed it anyway in the first place. Okay, maybe you had but it is your exhaustion talking, whispering it in your ear.

You remember the conversation that Javier and you had in the kitchen that one time a while back, where he promised you that if everything else failed, you would let Steve and Connie set an example and find your own Olivia. Yet neither of you has dared go into the discussion of exactly when it’s time to stop trying, or if you’d truly be ready to adopt. 

However, now as you anxiously pace around the kitchen, waiting for Javier to come home and cleaning off stains that aren’t actually there from yesterday’s dishes, you wonder if you should call Connie to hear her opinion. 

You stop halfway to the landline to stare at the calendar on the door to the refrigerator. The red circle around today’s date mocks you and you lift your hand up to flip it off, giving it a roll of your eyes now that you’re at it. Seven fucking months of anxiously charting your cycles, tracking ovulation windows, and feeling hope slip away with each negative test. 

What if it never happens at all? Connie hadn’t seemed to entertain your worry the last time you brought it up, had shaken her head with a smile you wanted to wipe off her face, and pulled out her authority as a nurse to reassure you. There’s still plenty of time before you need to start worrying, she keeps saying, and it feels like it is the only reason you are still taking vitamins, avoiding caffeine, and doing your exercises. 

You’ve reached the phone now, your hand hovering over it in midair. It would be so easy to ring Connie right now and tell her every worry that is constantly going around in your head, every frustration of being in a battle with forcibly loving your body when it isn’t working the way it should. But then you think of Javier and decide against it, convinced by the guilt that nags at you. It feels like a betrayal to begin that particular and very tough conversation with anyone else but him. 

You stand there for a moment longer, staring at the phone, silently hoping it will ring and Connie will be on the other end of the line. It would make it easier to justify running your mouth to her. 

“Don’t look at me, it just happened,” you would say and still know it wasn’t okay.

Keys being inserted into the front door and the handle rattling makes you tense up in nervous anticipation. Javier is home from work. This is the day you’ve been waiting for a whole month, the one you’ve rearranged your entire schedule around and taken off work because if there’s any chance of being a mom, it has to be now.

“Baby?” He calls when he’s inside the house. You can hear the thud of his bag hitting the floor and the sound of his footsteps going towards the living room. 

“I’m here,” you answer through the house. You peek into the living room and see him shrug out of his suit jacket, draping it over the back of the couch and letting himself fall into the cushions with a contented sigh. You know you’re supposed to go in there and spoil his relief. 

“Come in here,” he says and taps his fingers on his knees, eyes soft from hoping to see you materialize in the doorway. He always tells you he misses you at his job.

Carefully, you enter the room and approach him with urgency in your body. You have a single mission today and it is a delicate matter. 

Get pregnant. 

Getpregnantgetpregnantgetpregnant. 

Get fucking pregnant.

“Hey,” he says with a tired smile when you stand right in front of him, glad to see you. He holds out his hand for you to take. You don’t reach for it and his smile fades.

“We should have sex,” you blurt out before you can stop yourself. You shift your weight from one foot to the other, staring down at him as he reaches for his tie instead. 

“Baby, I just walked in. I just sat down,” he says softly and tugs at the knot on his tie, pulling it loose with a small noise. There’s an underlying emotion to his voice, a hint of frustration to his tone even if he doesn’t want to upset you. 

Your focus, your tunnel vision, makes you ignore his complaint as if it isn’t a ticking bomb right between your hands, “If I’ve calculated right, it’s been twelve hours since we last had sex, Javi. I’ve read that it’s a good idea to—“

“We have sex all the time, baby. Three times yesterday. Once at night. We fuck a lot,” he reaches up to run both hands over his face, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands afterward. He does a quick inhale and then sighs.

“Yes, but we have to do it today too to be sure. Connie said that—“ you quickly argue but his jaw muscles flex as you talk. Javier pushes himself to stand with exasperation in his next breath.

He pushes past you as if he cannot take being in your presence for a second longer despite just having arrived home, doesn’t even look at you as he throws back a sarcastic comment, “Oh, Connie said? Really? Wow, you really know how to turn me on.”

“That’s not funny. Hey, come back here,” you say as he starts walking towards the kitchen instead, leaving you with your mouth a thin line. You follow him but don’t go any further than standing in the door, “I’m the only one who initiates sex lately. What if my ovulation is peaking right now? The day is over soon.”

He leans against the kitchen counter, reaching back to grip the edge of the table, “The day isn’t over yet. It’s five in the afternoon. I just got home. We can have sex tonight.” 

You finally step fully into the kitchen now and it feels almost like you have crossed enemy lines. You can feel your tears build inside of your chest, crawling steadily up into your throat till they burn but you don’t allow yourself to cry. Why doesn’t he understand the pain of losing another month to grief? Why is it not as important to him? You look desperate, “Connie said it’s best during the day.”

“Stop,” he suddenly commands, causing you to flinch. He looks angry at you, unable to register the impact of the tone of his voice because of his own state of mind but it makes you tremble. He is never this way, “I can’t fucking take another fucking word about eggs and sperm and fertile windows. It’s too much now. You’re being crazy.”

Something breaks inside of you at those words, a beast that’s been hidden inside a cage in your chest threatening to escape and go for the kill. You watch him carelessly turn away to open the fridge, detachment on his face as if he has just argued with you about what you’re having for dinner. He leaves you feeling in complete disbelief and disarray, your heart ticking like a bomb. You need out right now or you might suffocate in the large, childless space that you moved into with the idea that you would be a family of three soon. 

You leave the room with your heartbeat pounding in your ears. The walls feel like they are closing in on you, close to trapping you here in this feeling forever if you don’t hurry up and reach the front door quickly. 

You slam the door behind you, no shoes on your feet, and then suddenly you are close to running down the street, breathing harder and harder while your arms swing along your sides in your haste. 

He has never called you crazy before. The word feels like he has just spat in your face, wrapped you in barbed wire, as if he sees you as just one more woman suffering from hysteria. Dismissible and unserious. Crazy. You swear you can feel all of the women before you right behind you, giving you the wind in your back to run faster than ever even with no destination. You don’t even feel your feet hurt from being bare against the harsh ground. 

However, you are barely a few blocks away from your home when you hear Javier’s voice calling out your name with the same desperation that you have felt since the first negative pregnancy test. 

The second you hear him, you automatically start running faster, determined to escape something you can’t quite pinpoint what is, but it only lasts a few seconds. Eventually, you finally slow down. Not because you want him to catch you but because your chest is heaving and your eyes are burning with tears, blurring your vision and disorienting you. 

He grabs your arm firmly when he reaches you and tries to pull you into an embrace. You resist at first, stiffening against him as he wraps you in his arms. 

“Stop!” You sob violently but he doesn’t let go even when you start crying loud enough to attract attention. Instead, he tightens his grip around you to calm your nervous system. How odd it is to want comfort from the man who also made you cry.

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry,” he says repeatedly, his cheek against yours while you try to hit his chest. You can hear the regret in his voice but your pride makes you unwilling to soften. 

You struggle further, almost like a panicked animal, wanting to kick and scream to escape a trap, but the fight is going out of your body quickly, gripped by exhaustion and making you sag. Another sob rips itself from your throat, “If I’m so crazy then there’s no reason we should be together let alone have a baby.”

When you’re less resistant, he cradles your head in his hand to make you look at him, “I shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t mean any of it. You’re not crazy. Dios, soy un pendejo (God, I’m an idiot). I’m so sorry, mi amor (my love).”

You sink to your knees but he catches you before they hit the sidewalk.

“I’m not crazy,” you insist weakly as you slump into his embrace.

“You’re not crazy,” he confirms quietly, “I’d take that back if I could.”

“It’s okay. I’m sorry too… You were frustrated and tired,” you sniffle and your bottom lip trembles, “I shouldn’t have pushed you the second you walked through the door. I’m just worried that we have to wait a whole month before we can try again because we’re too lazy to have sex. And I hate that it is ruining our sex life because I love having sex with you.”

Javier says your name but it’s clear that it has caught him off guard.

You pull back to look up at his face. His brown eyes are soft and full of apologies, like the impact of his words only hits him now, “Now I’m scared that this is all responsible for you not finding me sexy anymore. I know it’s stupid but what if I’m the reason why we never get there? What if all this pressure makes you stop wanting me? What if I–”

“Now that’s crazy,” he says in an attempt to smooth things over with a joke but that one crease in his forehead, the one that he gets when frustration hits, is back because it doesn’t work.

You compose yourself enough to step back and give him a warning look, a look that says don’t you dare say that word again. He holds his hands up in surrender and then just reaches for your wrist, tugs it until he can entwine your fingers.

“What?” You’re the one to bite now, "I'm serious. I don’t want to lose you in this."

"You're not going to lose me,” he groans in exasperation. A few heads have popped up in the windows of the houses surrounding you. 

“Then why aren’t you upset like I am?” You ask harshly and pull your hand away to hug yourself. You avoid his gaze. 

Javier looks at you as if you’ve cracked him wide open right there on the sidewalk. He furrows his brows, opening his mouth without any words coming out. He turns away then, needs to gather himself without staring at your face. 

You know immediately that you have crossed a line, that you have hit a nerve that wasn’t supposed to be as exposed as it suddenly is. 

“Javi,” you murmur shamefully. 

“Is that what you think?” He turns back to you, the look in his eyes frantic and desperate. He also looks furious but for some reason, you can tell it isn’t directed at you, “That— That I’m not scared or upset enough? I’m terrified all the fucking time but if I let myself be as scared as you are, I’d be fucking useless to you.”

The realization hits you like an oncoming train, making tears start falling from your eyes again. You don’t know why it hadn’t occurred to you. Javier feels the exact same way as you but he simply hides it better.

You want to say something but he beats you to it, pointing at you to stress his point, his chest heaving, “And for the record. There’s no fucking universe where I stop wanting you.”

You don’t know what to say, so you do the next best thing and show him. You reach to cup his face, your thumbs stroking along his cheekbones, and then you kiss his lips. 

He sighs against your mouth, his broad palms finding your waist and tugging you as close as possible until he can wrap you in the harbor of his arms. Then he kisses you deeper, several times too, each brush of his lips releasing more of the tension between you. 

You’re here. In the same boat. And you love each other so much. That should be enough, even when it doesn’t feel like it is.

When the kiss is over, you don’t draw away from each other. Instead, he pulls you into a tight hug, holding you protectively close to his chest and stroking the back of your head. You link your arms around him, clinging tightly to him with a few tears staining his shirt because you have hurt each other so much. 

“I want to go home,” you murmur softly into his shoulder while he strokes your hair, “Por favor (please).”

“Okay,” he answers just as gently, placing a kiss on your forehead before drawing back, “We’ll go home.”

You walk home side by side, no words spoken between you. The tension is still there, sizzling in the air but it is charged with something else too. You almost feel like a teenager again, back when you were too scared to speak to the person you’ve decided late at night that you’d go through fire for. 

The first block is spent with your hands brushing as they hang by your sides and the both of you holding your breath when it happens but then Javier laces your fingers together and a quiet understanding settles over you. 

When you enter the front door together, none of you even glance in the direction of the kitchen or the living room. There's no hurry to move on from the storm of intense emotions that you have just been through, no hurry to busy yourself with anything that’ll simply push it down or bottle it up. 

The only urgency now is that storm, your hearts tense but only with the need to reassure each other. His mouth finds yours again, his body pushes you against the wall and the intensity behind his kiss grows from how he had kissed you in the street. Your lips meet in a kiss so deep that Javier coaxes a moan from your mouth. 

For once in all of this, you’re not scared of the outcome of being together, entwined. The need to conceive a child with your husband is still very much there but right now, it is overshadowed by a need to connect fully, to lick each other’s wounds even if you caused them. 

You reach to untie the knot on his tie completely. He hesitates for just a breath, a hand on your wrist to gain your attention. 

“Are you sure?” He asks despite how you still pull the tie out from underneath his collar. 

“Yes,” you don’t hesitate a second and drop the tie on the floor, desire ignited in your belly, “I’m so sure. I want you.”

He lets out a shaky breath with a smile, nodding his head while you move in to kiss his throat where his pulse thrums. His eyes close at the contact, his head tilting back just a little until a soft moan escapes his mouth. Your body grows warm from hearing it and you take it as a cue to move in silence, sharing searing kisses all the way to the bedroom. 

When you get there, Javier closes the door behind you and turns the lock, not because there’s any chance that you will be disturbed but just to keep the outside world at bay for a little while. It feels more intimate like that, like you are the only two people in the world.

You stand by the end of the bed, watching him do it and feeling your heart pounding in your chest from anticipation. You smile softly when he approaches you, too afraid that words might mess up the way that air crackles with intimacy and tenderness. 

He reaches out first as if promising to take the lead of you, curling his fingers around the edge of your top to lift it up. You raise your arms in the air to let him peel it over your head, goosebumps erupting on your skin where his knuckles brush you. He drops your top on the floor. 

You finally reciprocate by moving to undo the buttons of his white shirt. Your hands tremble slightly as you do it but Javier is patient, just reaches to gently steady your wrist by holding it. 

When you have reached the last one, he takes over and shrugs the fabric off his shoulders to reveal his warm and safe chest. You step closer, hands finding his shoulders as you lean in to kiss along his collarbone. He takes the opportunity to unclasp your bra while you’re at it, a palm skimming up your back while the other rests at your waist. 

When your breasts are bare, your nipples have hardened at the sudden exposure to the colder temperature. He undoes his belt and jeans, and when he bends slightly to take them off along with his boxers, he presses a tender kiss right over a nipple and skims his nose and lips across your chest to do the same thing with the other. 

You moan softly. He grabs around your waist and helps lowering you down onto the bed. You sit on the edge but not for long, moving back until you can lay down spread out. He follows you like a magnet, ends up kneeling between your legs so he can undo and yank down your pants. 

You help kick them off and then bend your knees briefly to let him drag your underwear down too. His mouth is everywhere he can reach; your ankles, your calves, knees, and thighs. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs softly on his way down your inner thigh, breaking the silence, and while he says those words a lot, there’s something different behind them today. It is almost like he is telling you something else; you’re not broken, not defined in your femininity by your body’s ability to carry his child.

You hold tears at bay and run your hand over his hair, looking down at the top of his head as his face disappears down between your thighs. Your mouth falls open in a soft gasp when he first mouths along your cunt. 

“Javi,” you sigh a moment later, your head knocking back into the bed so you can look up at the ceiling while focusing on the velvety feeling of his mouth. 

He eats you slowly, the flat of his tongue gently moving over your clit until you can’t help each sigh and moan that falls from your lips. His fingers spread your cunt open, his other hand squeezing your thigh as he pulls your legs further apart to dive in. 

“Please,” you hear yourself say. It’s the moment you realize how long it has been since you last were together like this; he hasn’t gone down on you for months because it doesn’t make a baby. The room is quiet except for your labored breaths and the filthy wet sounds of his mouth teasing you towards the edge. It feels so good to be wanted like this, reassured of how sexy you are without all the pressure to procreate. 

Hearing that soft plea makes Javier wrap his lips around your clit to kiss it repeatedly. He moans into you when your legs start to tremble in his peripheral vision. He switches it up and sucks. It makes you whimper, your back arching off the bed as he worships you between your thighs.

You are sure that he’ll pull away when you lift your pelvis up to meet his mouth further, but he doesn’t stop. Instead, he just slides the hand on your thigh down under the small of your back to hold you there, then breathes heavily through his nose and hungrily continues to make you inch closer to the edge. 

Like always, he can hear your orgasm knocking by the way you begin to hold your breath between small gasps of pleasure. He intensifies the pressure and the precision just so, and you slide both hands through his hair - something he has clearly been waiting for with the way he groans - while your toes start to curl. 

When you actually come, it drags a sinful groan out of the both of you. Your thighs lock around his head and you pull at his hair. It’s not pretty and polite. It’s pure release, and it is ripped out of you like it has been buried under your prickly skin, underneath heartbreak, forever. 

You say his name until it makes no sense anymore, swallowing down desperate gulps of air. He lets you ride it out on his tongue, making sure to tease out every little aftershock before releasing you from his grasp. Yes, you needed this but it is almost like he needed it more. 

“You don’t know what it does to me,” he breathes heavily while you come down. He trails off and rests his forehead against your thigh, “You don’t fucking know what it does to me… when you look at me like you did earlier… Like you’re done.”

“I’m not,” you whisper in reply, voice shaky with tears that have finally found release. You cry softly, “I’m not done. Never done.”

“Don’t cry, baby,” he looks up at you with those brown eyes that are so hard to resist because of the silent plead within them. It hurts your chest to watch him so full of remorse, hurts to be loved this much. 

“Come here,” you whisper softly and hold your arms open for him but he wants to take it slow. 

He kisses his way up your body instead - a kiss to your hip, your belly, one right beneath your ribs - and you use the opportunity to slide your fingers through his hair. His mustache is slick with you, scratching just slightly as he treats you like you might not be in his bed tomorrow. 

But while he wants to savor you, you feel the growing impatience within your chest. You need him closer, your hands going repeatedly from his hair to his shoulders and then to his back because you are unsure of where to touch him when you want all of him. 

When he has his knees between your thighs again, he doesn’t crush you with his weight. Instead, he hovers above, eyes roaming over your face to check if you’re still letting him have you. In response, you settle on cupping his face. He automatically turns his face to press a longing kiss into the palm of your hand. 

You pull him to your mouth in a kiss that steals his breath away, his hand cupping the side of your neck. You kiss him like you should have done the moment he came in through the door and he meets your mouth like he needs to feel forgiveness in his very bones. Maybe a kiss like this would have avoided the pain that you inflicted upon each other. You cry in his arms. He wipes tears away with his thumbs and doesn’t rush you. 

Eventually, you are panting from the intensity of what feels like one of the deepest kisses of your life. Your lips are swollen and sensitive, and his cock is hard against your thigh to the point where you think he must be aching. The occasional kiss to your throat makes your whole body tingle with want, your cunt fluttering in interest. The pressing issue, however, is that you need to put all of these feelings somewhere. 

“Fuck me,” you whisper with your fingers in his hair, breathing hard against his mouth, “Please, baby. I need you inside of me.”

Javier swears quietly under his breath as if he has been waiting for those words, nodding repeatedly with his stare fixed on your lips before giving you another desperate kiss. 

He reluctantly pulls away, your hands slipping out of his dark locks, to sit back on his knees. You let your palms lay flat on the sheets and stare up at him, his face full of determination while he slides his hands around the back of your knees. 

At first, you think he wants to drag you down on the bed and closer to himself but then he lifts your legs and you gasp because you immediately know what he is doing with you. He pushes until your thighs are pressed against your chest, your cunt on full display and at his mercy. 

He doesn’t speak as he moves over you again, not stopping until his chest brushes the back of your thighs and your ankles are resting on his broad shoulders. He folds you even further in when he leans down to kiss your throat, the soft sound that escapes you vibrating underneath his lips.

You grip the sheets and hold on for dear life as he enters you slowly, giving you the full length of his cock inch by inch. He holds your gaze as he bottoms out and it makes you so aware of everything he does to you. There's no space between you now. Not physically. Not emotionally. He looks at you as if telling you that you and he belong together, like he is ready to rewrite the last seven months of your sex life. 

You can’t speak, can’t even think because you’re still trembling and sensitive. The stretch of his cock is almost too much inside of you but he is gentle with you, letting you adjust while kissing his way to your mouth again. 

“I love you,” he murmurs against your lips. 

You nod as if to reciprocate and then whimper as another tear escapes, “I love you. I missed you.”

“I know, I missed you too,” he whispers and gently kisses away the salty tear. 

The ache of need catches up to you as you get used to feeling him inside of your cunt so fully, the thick head of his cock resting against the spot where you need him the most. An impatient flutter of your walls makes him give in and move inside of you. 

You moan feebly while he takes you slowly and full of precision. The angle of this position has you breathless in seconds, your back arching with each stroke against your g-spot. Your moans mix together with the sound of skin slapping against skin in the otherwise quiet room. You hold onto his biceps, feeling the muscles of his arms flex beneath your touch as he strains his body to give you everything he has. 

“I’ve got it now, mi amor (my love)” he lets you know through ragged breaths, resting his forehead against yours, “You don’t have to start it anymore. No need to ask.” 

“Don’t stop. Javi— oh, don’t stop,” you plead him with a steady stream of teardrops falling from your eyes. They roll down into your hair faster than he can kiss them away but it doesn’t matter, you think to yourself, because you want him to see what he does to you; that his words move you, that you needed to hear them because you’re exhausted and fuck, he loves you so much. 

“Shh, don’t cry, baby, you’re okay,” he coos with another soft kiss to follow. You turn your head afterward to press your face into the side of his head, brows furrowing as the first hints of your climax being within reach show. 

He barely pulls out anymore, just grinds down into your cunt and hits the right spot repeatedly. There’s no talking either. Instead, just the sound of your sweat-slicked bodies moving together, your breath hitching in your throat as your belly tightens even more, and his growls every time your cunt squeezes around him.

“You feel so fucking good, baby. You’re making me come,” he grits out, sweat gathering on his brow and concentration all over his face. 

“I’m close,” you gasp with your thighs starting to tremble from how intense it is going to be. You let your head bump into the mattress, your spine arching in a bow as it creeps up on you and your breathing begins to stutter. 

You come with a silent cry towards the ceiling because all air is knocked out of you. It takes a few moments before noise catches up to you but when it does, you absolutely sob underneath the weight of his body. The intensity makes you clamp down on his cock, your walls going into rhythmic squeezes that make Javier hiss and his pace falter from how you milk him. 

“I’m coming,” he near-whimpers before going off into a satisfied groan while his hips stutter, “Fuck, baby. You’re— I’m coming.”

He buries himself to the hilt before spilling inside of your wet, oversensitive heat. You gasp at the feeling of it, the weight of it settling inside of you. He trembles above you, enough for you to slide your hands up to his shoulders and cup his face. 

He holds himself up with one hand and holds one of yours with the other, breathing rapidly. His chest is broad and glistening with sweat, warm and nearly suffocating but he is yours. You want it like that, want to drown in the intimacy that you feel. 

Without a word, he straightens and pulls out his softening cock. It makes you tense up, looking down where you have been connected with worry on your face. You don’t want it to slip, to not work this time either, but he guides your legs together and then shifts slightly on the mattress. He lays them gently on one shoulder, making sure that no drop spills from you. 

“I’ve got you,” he coos, almost shushing you like a child. His arms cradle your legs, “Don’t worry.”

You can do nothing but whimper. He rubs your belly with his free hand and you place your palm on top of it, an unconscious gesture of hope between you. 

“This is the most important thing,” he says after weighing his words for a moment, “You and I.”

“Javi,” you protest but there’s no exasperation building up beneath the surface this time. He shakes his head to stop any words at the tip of your tongue. 

“I will give you anything you want. A house, a baby, anything you want,” he tells you, whispering it as if there are other people in the room besides the two of you and he wants privacy. It feels safer to hear him lower his voice, “But not if it costs me you. We are not meant to fight like that.”

Your bottom lip trembles because he is right. You’re not meant to fight like that at all, chests heaving with adrenaline and bloodlust from grief over the fact that something is getting the better of you. It feels as unnatural as snow in August and rivers running dry. 

“I want to give you a baby,” you say quietly and feel a tear slide down your cheek. Javier reaches to brush it away with his index finger, shushing you once more with the gentleness in him only reserved for you. 

“And you will,” he promises and cups your cheek afterward, his thumb stroking your face where another tear has fallen, “It’ll happen. This way or another.”

Your eyes flutter closed. You nod. 

“Do you know how much I love you?” He asks and lets his mouth graze the side of your ankle. 

“I love you too,” you say back without much thought that he is actually asking a question. 

“Yes, but do you know how much? Look at me,” he waits for a moment.

Your gaze locks onto him, your eyes big and teary.

“I don’t think you know how lucky I am to have you in my life after all the stupid shit I’ve done back in Colombia. I hurt people. I watched people die. No wonder I wasn’t all here when I came back. I thought I was just gonna float through the rest of my life being angry or drifting in some bar like a ghost. You were the first thing that felt like… like the world could be soft again. And now you think I could ever stop wanting you?” He shakes his head in disbelief, “You’re the only place I’ve ever felt like I could put my feet down and not run. When everything starts to weigh down on me, you breathe life back into me. Whatever happens next, I want it with you, okay?”

You cry with your heart feeling too big for your chest, words lost on you because how can he still love you when this takes such a toll on you that it brings out the worst in you? Probably just how you can love him just the same too.

You sniffle, “Yes, me too.”

He looks serious and soft, “Even if it’s not how we imagined. Even if we gotta go knock on Connie’s door and ask for the number of that adoption agency… or do IVF… or whatever the hell else it takes.”

You nod. When you speak, it is nothing but a squeak, “Yes.”

“But right now,” he caresses the skin of your calf and murmurs into another kiss to your ankle, “I just wanna stay here. In this bed. With my wife… and let the world wait a little while longer. Can we do that?”

“Can I get my legs down, so we can cuddle?” You shift a little, still slick between your thighs and sore in the best way, but there’s no rush to clean up or face anything other than the rise and fall of his chest against yours.

He smiles, “Of course. Lift your legs, I’ve got you.”

He does. He always does.

.

.

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[waldau]

how they take care of you — seventeen | 2,531 words | hurt/comfort, fluff

i didn't know i liked writing ot13 this much!

gender neutral reader. warnings: reader is stressed out/tired/scared/ill/sad? y'know, the usual spectrum of negative human emotions?

seungcheol

gets so concerned when he hears a hitch in your voice when you greet him that he drops whatever he’s doing and rushes to you. doesn’t matter if he’s on a call or if he’s doing some important paperwork, he’s all yours now.

gives you a big, comforting hug that tries to shield you from everything but him. kisses your head to try and ground you.

doesn’t make you talk if you don’t want to, but he insists that you don’t keep it in for too long because it’s only going to hurt you in the end. lasts only for a while before asking if there's someone that needs some talking to for making you feel this sad.

tries to do anything in his power to see you smile, even if it's momentary. shows you a funny picture of his favourite child (mingyu) to cheer you up. asks if you feel okay enough to walk kkuma with him, because she needs some time with her other favourite person (you).

“you know i love you, right? that's never changing.”

jeonghan

is proud to be the person that becomes your comfort when something doesn’t go right, or when you’ve had a bad day.

immediately bottles up any jokes he’s about to make and wipes away your tears, stops only when you bat his hands away. even if he doesn’t want to let go of you, he respects your boundaries.

when you're feeling a bit better, he pulls you down into the sofa and cuddles with you, and is content whether you choose to tell him what’s on your mind, or if you want to be silent and fiddle with his shirt instead.

kisses your forehead and looks into your eyes when he promises you that it’s just one bad day, and that he’s always here for all the others. links pinkies with you because he knows how much it means to you, even if it may seem childish.

will resort to tickling you to make the last traces of your sadness vanish, and asks if there’s anything else he can do to make you smile.

joshua

comes to pick you up from work because he has a free day, and realizes something’s wrong the moment you greet him hello without even looking at his face for more than two seconds.

doesn’t make a big deal out of it, though. takes your stuff from you and greets you softly. opens the door for you and buckles your seat belt. asks you if it’s okay that he’s not taking you home first, because there’s some place else he wants to take you.

dismisses any concerns you have about not looking “good enough” to go out, because you look absolutely gorgeous at any time of the day, and he’d never lie about something like this to you. lets you choose whatever music you want as he weaves through the traffic on the streets, telling you about his day.

parks the car and gets out to hold your hand in his as he guides you over to the many stalls, asking you to pick whatever you want to eat. sits next to you on one of the benches overlooking the river, your legs swinging as you lean into his side and enjoy your meal. is glad he could take care of you like this because you needed it.

“trust me when i say whatever happened is not your fault, okay, sweetheart?”

junhui

is more confident in his actions than his words, because he can immediately notice the little changes in your behaviour: your tired smile, and the way you’re kind of curled in on yourself, as if trying to take up less space.

gives you a long hug with lots of cheek kisses and pulls you into the kitchen to show you what he’s working on: a dish that coincidentally happens to be your comfort food. it’s your favourite, especially when jun makes it in his own style.

this six foot man becomes small as he tries to do anything to make you smile. hates that you’re even feeling this way. throws random pickup lines at you to see which one gets you to crack and slap his arm and tell him to stop (he won’t, because he loves you too much).

offers to feed you dinner once it’s ready and makes random airplane noises that bring out a giggle from you. watches as you eat slowly and is glad when he sees your bowl is empty. doesn’t resist your offer of feeding him dinner once you’re done.

hides under the blankets with you and watches cat videos till your eyes shut from exhaustion and his arm hurts from holding up the phone from so long. cuddles with you and doesn’t let go even when you halfheartedly complain about how warm it is.

soonyoung

becomes so gentle that it pulls you out of your dullness a bit, makes you wonder where your usually hyperactive boyfriend is.

doesn’t baby you because he knows you don’t like it, but he makes sure you get everything you need. calls his mother to ask her the exact recipe for this soup she used to feed him when he used to get ill. stays by your side even when you have a raging fever and you’re worried he’s going to catch it if he kisses your cheek one more time.

doesn’t complain even once when you wake him up because of how uncomfortable you’re feeling. what else is he there for, if he can’t take care of the person he loves the most? wraps himself along with you in your blanket even if it’s hot enough that he can just melt.

is your hype man when you finally get better enough to start moving around the house by yourself. watches you with the biggest smile on his face that he will not tamp down when he sees you eating the soup he made, and almost cries with joy when you ask him for a second serving.

doesn’t blame you one bit when he catches the same bug a week later, because you’re there to take care of him through it, and because he loves you too much for it to be an issue.

wonwoo

gently pulls you into his chest the moment he sees your tear-streaked cheeks, and rests his head on yours. doesn’t ask you what’s wrong because he feels it’s more important to make you feel better.

doesn’t care that your tears are leaving behind a spot on his shirt, and shushes you for even pointing it out. in fact he wants you to do that so that you can run out of tears and he can take care of you properly.

gives you his hoodie to wear because it’s oversized on you, and he loves seeing you in it just as much as you love wearing it.

makes you wrap your arms around his waist from behind and cling onto him while he goes about the house finishing his share of chores. does yours without asking if he senses you’re too drained out to do them.

absolutely needs you by his side regardless of what he’s doing, whether it’s playing a game or brushing his teeth. offers to read you a book if you’re having trouble falling asleep. tells you he loves you in the lowest voice possible when he sees you finally asleep against his chest, breathing evened out.

jihoon

might not very verbal, but when it comes to you, he knows exactly what to do to make things better.

knows you’re in his studio when the door shuts, but you don’t greet him. decides to finish some edits on the song he’s working on before he turns to you, only to find you lying on the sofa facing away from him.

genuinely sad to hear you had a bad day. he got through today only because of all the encouraging texts you sent him. decides the least he can do is return the favour.

wraps you in your favourite blanket that he always keeps at the studio for when you visit. holds your hand regardless of whether you want to talk or not. offers to order food to the studio so that he can make sure you’re not hungry.

very thankful that you came to him because you were feeling down, and he very much wants to call it a day and take you home so that he can cuddle with you and make your day just a bit better.

seokmin

his mood almost always mirrors yours, so when he sees you so exhausted and down, his heart genuinely hurts.

not a confrontational person, but he’s willing to fight whatever made you sad, even if it was a table you stubbed your toe on. happy that it brings a smile to your face even if he didn’t actually fight anything.

have you seen his arms? wraps them around you till you push him off with a bit of a smile on your face. he then decides he wants to use them to bake something for you. you’re the better baker between the two of you and since he’s got loads of time today, he decides he wants to learn something that he can make the next time you’re away and he doesn’t have to feel that lonely.

is your own personal jukebox. belts out whatever song you want, and does a mini infinite aju nice in the comfort of your kitchen, making you jump while the oven works, till you’re tired and actually smiling.

“it’ll be okay, i promise. i love you.”

mingyu

hates that you had a nightmare but is thankful that he was sleeping right next to you when it happened.

the biggest cuddle bug you’ll ever see you in your life. when you wake him up with a shaky voice, he immediately blinks out of his sleep and holds you in his arms. he’ll hug you and keep hugging you till he can drain your sadness even just a little.

doesn’t matter how late it is; if you can’t go back to sleep, he’ll pull you to the kitchen and make his ramen just for you. makes you help him chop some ingredients and stir the broth so that you feel involved. keeps purposely bumping into you every time you cross paths and takes a kiss as payment.

finds some cheesy, slow music to dance to and gently pulls you all over the kitchen, twirling you and even bending you as the song ends. loves hearing your laugh when he pulls you back up.

“i hope you dream of me when you sleep again. i love you.”

minghao

words aren’t necessary when he can just take care of you the way you always deserve to be taken care of.

actually gets upset (a little) when you apologize for crying in front of him. who else will make you feel better when you’re down if not for him? makes you promise never to feel nervous to be emotional around him.

runs a bath for you and makes your favourite food. when you’re done with dinner and feeling a bit better, he takes you to bed and cuddles with you, wanting you to focus on his breathing so you can calm yourself. he whispers endearments into your ear. also makes sure you know how proud he is of you for getting through today.

would give you the entire world if he could, but when you tell him the only thing you want is him, he promises you he’s never going anywhere, no matter what happens.

“i’m so lucky to call myself yours, my love. always.”

seungkwan

he can never stand seeing his loved ones sad, so when he sees you, he needs to find a way to make your smile get back to your face.

sees your lips wobble when you say hello to him, and he eventually coaxes the issue out of you: your friends had ditched a get-together you’d been planning at the last minute, and they didn’t even have the decency to apologize for it. he feels extremely angry on your behalf and is ready to curse. doesn’t do it only because it won’t help you.

thinks about what he can do to make you happy. asks if he can take you out on a drive tonight so you can watch the stars with him. when you regretfully decline the offer, he asks if you want to create a blanket fort and watch movies or go to sleep.

it’s not long before he’s constructing a blanket fort for the first time in his life thanks to some youtube tutorials. he’s upset when it collapses right in the middle of constructing it, but he realizes he’d build it a hundred times more if it meant you’d laugh the way you just did.

sets up snacks and your favourite drinks after a while. keeps apologizing to you on behalf of your so-called friends till you tell him to stop. promises that he’s always going to be with you, and that you don’t have to be sad when you’re with him. falls asleep with you in his arms, and a smile on your face, snacks and movies forgotten.

hansol

feels bad the moment he sees you try to mask the sadness on your face with a smile.

better with actions than words, so he kisses your forehead and trails you around the house while you try to relax from the day you had. if you’re really sad, he lets you just rest your head against his collarbone and breathe till you feel better.

“you’ve got this, and you’ve got me, okay? i’m right here.”

has a bunch of handmade coupons for whenever you feel sad. each coupon has the same four options: eat, talk, watch a movie, sleep. does whatever you choose, whether it’s only one or all four.

another one who has no problem with prolonged eye contact. he looks at you till you understand that he loves you more than he can say and that he’s always there for you when you feel like this.

chan

always used to being babied by his older brothers, so he feels happy to get a chance to take care of you. just doesn’t like the fact that you’re sad, because you deserve to be anything but.

very transparent with his affection for you. he whispers “i love you” into your hair when you ask him for a hug, shouts it across the living room when you come out to get some water, and holds your hand under the table during dinner even if it’s inconvenient.

if you’re really down, and don’t feel like talking, he bundles you into a blanket and puts you on the sofa and sits close to you, so that you have your space but he’s close enough if you need him.

sits with you while you work and watches intently even if he doesn’t understand much of what you’re doing. ready to go to the store and get you anything you’re craving, regardless of how late it is.

“i love looking after you, okay? don’t ever feel bad about telling me what’s troubling you.”

taglist: @bookyeom @wootify @strnsvt @cloudycaramel @thepoopdokyeomtouched

@minnieminshi @nonononranghaee @hrts4hanniehae @viewvuu @bewoyewo

[idkdudethisisntpermanent]

Keep Your Eyes on Me

tara carpenter x female reader

part i | part ii

summary: You’ve quickly become close with all of Tara’s friends, but her trust issues keep her at a distance from you. But maybe you're able to chip away at her defenses...

word count: 2.2k

————

"I don't get why no one else is suspicious of her!" Tara exclaims looking around at everyone with a frustrated expression. "Mindy? You're literally suspicious of every living thing. And Sam what the fuck, you don't let me leave the house unless I'm carrying a cross bow or something," she exaggerates rolling her eyes.

"Why are we speaking about me like I'm not here?" You whisper to Chad next to you while ripping your string cheese into strands. He laughs but so does everyone else, seems like your whisper wasn't as quiet as you thought.

Tara groans frustrated and heads up the stairs, leaving her friends and you in the living room in an awkward silence.

Sam was the first to break it, "She'll come around, it's just been hard on her you know? Trusting new people and all that fun stuff."

You give her a nod completely understanding the root of Tara's issues with you, it wasn't personal but that didn't mean her distrust in you didn't sting. Especially considering it's been four months since you met the group.

"I am curious though," you speak, "She's not wrong Mindy, you're sus of everyone. And Sam why do you trust me too?"

"Well you met my brother playing pickle ball," the twin speaks. "Pickle ball doesn't really strike me as a psychopathic killer activity," she laughs.

"Neither does string cheese. Can you imagine Ghostface stringing their cheese and eating it?" Sam adds with a laugh.

You don't know whether to be relieved or offended that your habits don't indicate you to be a killer. But you're grateful that the rest of the group clicked with you quickly after Chad introduced you to them.

The core four minus Tara sometimes wanted to smack the girl across the head for being so oblivious and blind to you. Before you met the group Chad being the yapper that he is, explained all that happened in the past year and a half, so you were fairly well equipped with knowledge on how to navigate a friendship with everyone.

Everyone also noticed how attentive you were to Tara especially.  You didn't know what it was but you immediately developed a soft spot for the girl when Chad told you all she went through. Meeting her for the first time you instinctively felt the need to protect her but that's been quite hard with her negative feelings towards you, but that doesn't mean you don't try.

————

Sam eventually goes up to Tara's room once everyone leaves and decides to put an end to this.  The younger Carpenter looks at her sister from her bed when the door is opened at a speed where its hinges could fly off.

"Jesus Sam, why are we trying to break my door."

"What the hell are you doing Tara?" Sam gets to the point ignoring the question.

"What are you talking about?"

"Y/n."

"Ughhhhhh!" She turns around face planting into her pillow with a groan, hating the topic of you.

"It's been four months and you haven't once given the poor girl the benefit of the doubt." The sister says softly. "I don't know why you're so keen on hating her, it's like you want her to be Ghostface just so you can prove a point."

Tara turns around to respond, clearly annoyed.  "Because it's so clear she doesn't have good intentions!  I don't get you either sis, you want me to be cautious of people, but it's a problem when its Y/n?"

Sam sighs moving to sit on the foot of the bed, "Tara, do you not see how much that girl cares about you?"

Tara is silent and looks down at her fiddling hands not knowing what to say.  She does know how much you care and she hates it.

All those times you would come over to her place with the excuse of "Mindy sent me to grab something" but you always stayed until Sam got home from work, just so she wouldn't have to be alone.

"Clearly you do realize how much she cares for you," Sam says taking notice of her sister's silence and demeanor.

Tara turns red recalling how you would always be attentive to the leg that Ghostface broke a year ago.  You would always position yourself so she'd have access to the railing of a staircase. Offer to drive her places that may have seemed like too lengthy of a walk. Straggle behind the group when you realized she couldn't walk as fast as the others. And even deprive yourself of any physical activities that the group was participating in, so Tara wouldn't feel alone when she sat out.

"The damn girl literally sits in the kitchen whenever your hungry ass wants to cook something so you'd feel safer!" Sam suddenly says. "Even I hadn't thought about how being in the kitchen may give you PTSD."

Tara hadn't either. But now that she knew the reason why you'd sit with her in the kitchen, she realized that she did feel much more comfortable with you in there then the times you weren't. After all she did have her attack take place in the kitchen. The brown eyed girl shrunk into her sweater in shame as she recalled how poorly she treated you that day.

You leave the group who were playing an intense round of charades in the living room and decide to join Tara who was alone in the kitchen.

"Hey what are you making?" You smile.

She ignores you and continues to get the seasoning out for the mac and cheese she was making herself.

"Why aren't you playing with everyone else?" Tara suddenly spoke.

"Just wanted to see what you were up to."

"Well you can leave now," she rolls her eyes.

"I'm good, I'll stay here."

"You do know that you aren't winning any points with me by trying to talk to me and forcing proximity right?" Tara says with attitude. "I still don't trust you and if your goal isn't to kill me, but just to get in my pants, then I'm so sorry if I ever made you believe that you had a chance with me." she finishes sarcastically feigning a genuine apology.

"Not my goal," you reply keeping it short. You knew the girl would not receive anything you say, so you got up from the seat you initially took at the island in the kitchen and went to the dining table which was a little further away. Tara thought that you left since she didn't hear any comments from you anymore and her pride was too high for her to turn around and check if you were still there. She couldn't control the frown that was making its way onto her face. That was until she heard you scrolling through TikToks at the table and suddenly felt a sense of relief that couldn't be explained.

She would continue to finish her mac and cheese and tried to hide her laugh from any funny TikTok sounds she heard from your phone. And tried her hardest to shutdown her curiosity whenever she heard your laugh. As soon as she finished making her bowl, she walked out of the kitchen not even glancing at you. She was too stubborn to realize that she hadn't once thought about her attack due to your presence in the kitchen.

Until now.

"That's why I trust her Tara," Sam reveals. "She notices things that I don't. I can't always be watching out for you. You need to have a bunch who have your back, and for that to happen you need to take a chance on people here and there."

"Just think about it. Just separate your idea of Y/n being Ghostface and the possibility that she can betray you. And ask yourself what kind of person is left standing in front you. And is that the type of person you want to take a chance on."

————

Two weeks have gone by since the group last saw each other, and since then you and Tara were able to do a lot of individual thinking. Today the group decided that they went too long without seeing each other and they all decided to go to bar in downtown Manhattan.

Everyone decided to meet at the Carpenter residence, and Tara hated to admit it, but she was excited to see you, but she also felt nervous at the thought of being around you.

You were the last to arrive, and you greeted all your friends with a smile. Tara was waiting with a smile for you to greet her like you always do, but it never happened.

You ignored her.

"Is everyone ready to go?" You say looking at everyone except Tara.

The shorter girl had to compose herself before anyone realized that she was bothered by your lack of acknowledgement. She didn't know how to feel, what in the world were you doing?

The group made their way to the subway in one piece, and the two Carpenter sisters were walking side by side while everyone else was a little ahead.

"What the fuck is Y/n doing?" Tara whisper yells to her sister.

"What do you mean?" Sam replies playing stupid.

"She's not even looking at me?" Tara admits, not caring at how childish she sounds. "Why isn't she paying attention to me?"

Sam laughs at what two weeks of not seeing you and some deep reflection has done to her sister. "I mean what do you expect, it's not fair for her to keep trying for someone who doesn't make the same effort. She's probably done trying." Despite her words, Sam didn't believe a thing she was saying, she wondered what the intentions behind your actions were, but the Carpenter knew it was nothing ill.

Tara makes a hmpf sound, and tries to act unbothered by her sister's words. But the idea of you not having your gaze on her worries her more than she would like to admit.

Meanwhile 20 paces in front the sisters you and the twins are having a interesting conversation of your own.

"I can't do this anymore!" You whine looking at Mindy.

"Girl, stand the fuck up, it's been 20 minutes since we left the house, can't you see that it's already working?"

Chad chimes in, "Honestly I agree with my sister for once, she'll be yours by the end of today."

"W-whoa I don't want her to be mine or anything," you blush. "She's gone through a lot, I just need her to tolerate me, you know?"

Mindy rolls her eyes but smiles, happy that Tara has someone patient like you in her life. "Yeah yeah Y/l/n, now walk faster, it's not like she can run and catch up."

Your jaw drops while Chad drops dead in laughter.

Everyone manages to get onto the same subway cart in one piece, and you realized how much harder it was going to be acting like you can't notice Tara in here. The subway was packed from one end to the other. And you just so happened to be standing next to the only available seat.

You glance at Tara only to see her already looking at you and you immediately look away. Trying to get Mindy's attention you some how try your best to mime to her that you want Tara to sit in the free seat. Though of course Mindy's horrible charade skills translate into real life and she ends up sitting in the seat herself.

You face palm at your friend, and gave up on trying to look out for Tara. But in that very moment you notice a man getting far too close to the girl than you would like. It was a crowded cart so proximity was a given, but this seemed deliberate on the stranger's part.

Acting without thinking, you shove the guy as casually as you can to the side, not realizing that it meant you are now face to face with Tara. Just as you were about to break and speak to her, the subway doors open at your stop.

Tara hated that the doors interrupted the words you were going to say to her, but was grateful that it got her attention off of you before you could notice the blush on her cheeks.

As everyone got off the subway, you find yourself straggling behind the group out of habit. Just as you attempt to quicken your pace, you feel a tug on your sleeve.

Tara looks up at you with her big eyes, and you don't know what to do. This is the first time the girl has looked at you without rolling her eyes or looking away immediately.

"I'm sorry," she mutters.

You didn't know what to say, and continue walking with her by your side, so you don't fall too far behind from your friends. "It's okay," you mutter back looking straight ahead. 

You don't blame the girl for her behaviours.  Her traumas manifested into something difficult and she was making an attempt to be better. That's all that mattered to you. And maybe you were just too weak for the girl that you would let anything slide, but you were fine with that too. 

Tara smiles at you, happy that you weren't giving her a hard time. Happy that you understood what those two words she just told you encapsulates.

Suddenly she grabs you by your arm and holds it as you walk side by side.

Startled by her touch you look at her.

She smiles up at you, "It's easier for you to keep your eyes on me this way. No need for secret glances."

next chapter

[silverwhittlingknife]

So you're a go to source for all things Dick&Tim bros and you tend to write primarily from Dick's POV. So, odd question, but if you were to summarize their relationship from his POV in FIVE panels which panels would you pick? Keeping in mind that one specific aspect of their relationship that you love needs to be clearly represented by each panel (loyalty, trust etc). I hope this is a fun challenge and not an annoying question so if you don't want to answer that's cool! Have a wonderful day!

No more talk. The same thoughts run through two minds... (SotB 29) / You're my equal. My closest ally. (RR 1) / I can't stop thinking how much I rely on him. (GoG 3)

25 Feelings Dick Has About Tim

This was such a kind ask & a cool challenge which I totally failed; here are TWENTY-five panels of Dick's POV on Tim sdfdsfds Look, I got carried away! Marcia and Cindy! The boys!!

OKAY SO BEFORE I GET TO THE PANELS A FEW NOTES:

WARNING THAT THERE ARE SOME NEGATIVE EMOTIONS IN HERE because I love conflict but but but you gotta remember those are not the final word!! They are complicated people and sometimes they get mad at each other BUT ultimately their relationship is so hugely important in both their lives & they love each other and rely on each other so much -!!! <3

Also I have CONCLUDING THOUGHTS at the end about what Dick's POV leaves out (mostly: a lot of Dick defending & protecting & supporting Tim, which Dick does instinctively but isn't very self-aware about most of the time)

I have loosely organized my list into 5^5 format (5 categories with 5 examples each!), so if you want to skip to a relevant one, here are the categories!!

Below the cut:

I hate him and find him infuriating (#1-5)

On second thought, he's endearing & fun (#6-10)

Grief is complicated & he's all tangled up in mine (#11-15)

I love him & think highly of him (#16-20)

I rely on him & though it's hard for me, I trust him (#21-25)

I hate him and find him infuriating (#1 - 5)

1) He thinks he’s so smart and can psychoanalyze me and Bruce, but he doesn’t know me at all, he should get lost (New Titans 61)

2) He thinks he’s so smart and can psychoanalyze Bruce but he doesn’t know Bruce at all, he should get lost (Gotham Knights 26)

3) He is so nosy about stuff that is MY business (Robin 0)

4) He sounds like an insincere suck-up half the time... but okay, fine, if you push him he's got a sense of humor about it (New Titans 65)

5) I'm sure he's a better vigilante than me. It's my fault for being a failure, but I resent him anyway. (Nightwing 9 - Dick's having a nightmare)

On second thought, he's kinda endearing (#6-10)

6) He worries too much and gets anxious so easily, but it makes him fun to tease (Robin 67)

7) I'm not that competitive - okay, so maybe I'm a little competitive, I gotta make sure he doesn't get a swelled head (Prodigal)

8) I'm supposed to be his favorite! It is not cool for him to be fanboying over my not-girlfriend's not-boyfriend!! (Birds of Prey 19)

9) We have fun together. I can kick back and relax when it's just the two of us. Plus I get to boss him around a bit. (Prodigal)

10) He’s always trying to reassure me, and I guess it's a little comforting, but also he doesn’t really get it. Or me. He makes excuses that he shouldn't, because he doesn't understand that I suck. (Nightwing 64)

Grief is complicated and he's all tangled up in mine (#11 - 15)

11) He reminds me of everything I try not to think about. Sometimes the memories are so strong it hurts to look at him. (Batman 441)

12) WHY IS HE BEING IMPOSSIBLE ALL OF A SUDDEN??? THIS IS SO FRUSTRATING (Nightwing 139)

13) We're the same. He says all the things I don't let myself think about. It's like arguing with myself. (Nightwing 139)

14) He thinks he gets to tell me what to do but he doesn’t, fuck him (Battle for the Cowl)

15) Life sucks, so what. I sucked it up so he should too (RR 1)

I love him and think highly of him (#16 - 20)

16) He’s the closest thing to a brother I’ll ever have.  If someone hurts him I will hurt them harder. (Nightwing 6)

17) I can't handle the idea of losing him. (Nightwing 97)

17) He’s so good and I’m not. I'm afraid I’m bad for him. (Nightwing 110)

18) He’s better than me, and it’s kind of a relief because I know no matter what he’ll be okay. (Gates of Gotham 3)

19) In my head he’s the responsible one.  (Gotham Knights 10)

I rely on him, and though it's hard for me, I trust him (#20-25)

20) I know I have to trust him but I'm afraid he'll make the wrong choices and get hurt (Nightwing 139)

21) I'm sure I know what he should do because I see myself in him - not that I can take my own advice, but he should (Blackest Night 3)

22) I trust him.  When I’m losing my grip on things, he pulls me back. (Gotham Knights 10)

23) I want him to trust me (Red Robin 12)

24) He can tell when I'm lying. Sometimes he sees my weaknesses better than I wish he did. (Detective Comics 874)

25) He’s always there when I need him. (Teen Titans / Outsiders Secret Files)

Final rambling thoughts:

TIM: Uhh, okay, so I'm just skimming this list - do you really trust me? you're not just saying that? - but anyway, I'm confused because you left some stuff out? Like some stuff that's kinda important? DICK: No? I think I got everything? TIM (starts counting on his fingers): The time I was having a bad day but then I called you. The time I got captured by Two-Face but then you saved me. The time I fell off a train but then you saved me. The time I fell off a building but then you saved me. The time I fell off a different building - DICK: I feel like you're trying to make some kind of point but I'm not sure what it could be.

SO THE THING IS, I put 25 panels in here and not a single one has Dick catching Tim when he’s falling!!! But I think that's a central motif of their relationship from Tim’s POV, not Dick’s. I love Dick, but in some ways I think he is spectacularly un-self-aware.

And I think he especially has a lot of blind spots about Tim. He kinda intermittently gets that Tim admires him, and he enjoys it in a playful I-get-to-boss-you-around way. But Dick tends to consistently underestimate all of his own good qualities & skills, and he meets Tim at a point in his life when he's especially down on himself & his abilities. And so he's unable to see his own influence on Tim, & therefore unable to fully understand a lot of Tim's priorities and loyalties and motivations, because you can't actually understand Tim without understanding Dick's impact on him. There's a fascinating moment in Bruce Wayne: Murderer when Dick's completely blindsided & upset to discover that Tim doesn't entirely trust Bruce, even though this has been a definitive fact of Tim's whole thing ever since he showed up with his Batman needs Robin theory, and Barbara has to actively remind Dick of the obvious-to-everyone-except-Dick fact that a lot of Tim's loyalty is to Dick, and Tim loves Bruce but feels free to be more wary of him. (And to give Bruce credit: this is not something he ever begrudges.) But anyway Babs points this out, and Dick manages to sorta process it for about five seconds, but he cannot actually accept it into his worldview so instead he discards it at the speed of light and goes off and has an argument with Tim instead sdfsfdsf

All of Dick's virtues - Dick's kindness at the circus and Dick's determination to fight through grief and Dick's rigid sense of morals and Dick's vigilante skills and every time Dick has ever backed Tim up or listened to him or protected him or saved him from something or just been casually kind to a stranger in Tim's presence etc etc etc - all these things loom really large in Tim's mental story of Who Dick Is, and What Dick And Tim's Relationship Is. Tim meets Dick before he meets Bruce, trusts Dick more than Bruce, aspires to be Robin instead of Batman. And so in Tim's default version of the story, Dick is the super-special and admirable hero and Tim is... nobody in particular, a tagalong outsider who's barely managing to be a hero, not part of Dick and Bruce's family and not part of their story, who, if he's VERY LUCKY and tries REALLY HARD, might be able to fight his way to proving himself and offering something to Dick that Dick will value, if Dick doesn't get fed up with him first.

But that's not Dick's version of the story!!!

Dick's version of the story is almost the exact opposite, a story where Dick's an outcast failure black sheep who's screwing up everything he tries, and meanwhile Tim is The Sudden New Perfect Robin Who's Better Than Me And Probably Bruce Loves Him More And Probably They Gossip About What A Loser I Am, mixed with a complicated edge of Tim Thinks He's So Smart But He Doesn't Know Me/Us At All. Dick gets much more attached to Tim over time, and Tim gets unnervingly better at the know-it-all psychoanalysis so then Dick gets to have complicated feelings about him being right instead of just annoyance at him for being wrong, plus Dick's relationship with Bruce improves a lot, so Tim stops feeling so threatening. But Dick never fundamentally changes his basic theory of their relationship in which Tim is highly impressive and capable, and Dick is not so much.

And so asking Dick about Tim is kinda like if you asked George Bailey to tell you about Harry Bailey in It's A Wonderful Life; like, you'll be there for five hours while he tells you how great Harry is, and how accomplished Harry is, and how he doesn't really get how or why Harry does the things he does, and maybe George does feel a little resentful or jealous sometimes, but that pales in comparison to all his admiration and trust for Harry who he loves so much, who's better than him in so many ways, and he's not gonna openly gripe but secretly he can't help but feel sometimes like he's such a failure in comparison to Harry, a perfect person who emerged fully formed from Zeus's head with all the virtues and also all the accomplishments, etc. etc. etc. --

-- and he will not actually remember the part where he changed and saved Harry's whole entire life unless you literally send him to an alternate timeline in order to force him to remember it. <3

[16wolke11]

CYNOSURE - Max Verstappen

A/N Pure fluff

CYNOSURE: Being the one in the focus of someone's admiration

WORDS: 1542

__________

Sitting on the couch, sniffling occasionally, wasn't how I wanted my Friday evening to be. Or like I want any day of the week to be. But here I am, sitting wrapped in a blanket while I stare at the wall, trying to push back the negative feelings. Max is in the bathroom, showering after his training, and I try to keep myself from crying until he's back.

I'm not really successful at this, because just when I brush away the tear stains, I hear footsteps approaching the living room. Usually, I would look up, smile at him, and invite him to cuddle, but I can't bring myself to force a smile or even look at him without feeling like I need to cry and bury my head in his chest.

"Hey, what's going on?" Max asks, coming closer. He crouches down in front of me, trying to catch my gaze. "You've seemed quiet all day." He mumbles, his fingers softly brushing over my knee, and I bring myself to look at him. I can see the genuine concern in his eyes, and I hate to worry him.

"It's just work stuff, you know? Nothing I can't handle, but... I don't know. It's like I'm always giving more than I get back from it." I tell him, trying to explain the situation in a way he'll understand. Work has always had its difficult times, but recently it doesn't feel like my effort is being appreciated there.

"That sounds frustrating." Max comments and sighs, before sitting down on the couch beside me and wrapping an arm around my shoulder to pull me into his chest. I don't fight against his touch; I just slump against his body and let him hold me.

"I hate seeing you like this," he mutters, his hand brushing over my back, something he always does—a movement to brush away the bad feelings, as he told me once. Since then, it's oddly comforting.

"I just feel drained, Max, and like no one really gets it." I continue my explanation. When I addressed my concerns to one of the lower bosses, they just brushed it off, telling me I shouldn't whine so much because everyone manages their work, and I should just try to figure out better time management. Unfortunately, they seem to forget that I'm currently covering for a pregnant co-worker, and sometimes both tasks are just too much.

"I do get it. You give so much to everyone around you, but sometimes you need something for yourself." Max pretty much sums up the situation, and as comforting as that should be, it just frustrates me even more.

"I know you're just trying to help, but I think I need some space," I sigh, knowing that Max will understand. Usually, he tends to discuss everything and likes to have a word in it, but when I ask him for space, he usually gives in pretty quickly. As expected, Max hesitates, and I want to reassure him that it's really okay for him to leave for a while and leave me alone with my thoughts. But then he unwraps his arms from my body and stands up.

"Fine, but I'll be back in a little bit. Don't disappear," Max says with a rather mischievous smile on his lips. I sit up straight, almost wanting to stop him from leaving, but Max is already in the hallway, rummaging for his shoes.

"What are you up to?" I ask him, and there's silence for a moment like he's debating with himself whether or not he wants to tell me.

"It's a secret," Max pops his head through the door, the smile still plastered on his lips, and now I can't help but laugh softly.

"Don't get lost," I tell him, feeling lighter, already in a better mood than before, and I get a wave from Max in return before he leaves the apartment.

The silence isn't as comforting as I'd hoped it would be, and I wish I hadn't sent Max away. But now he's on a "secret mission," and I'll have to wait until he's back. At first, I wanted to stay seated on the couch, exactly where he left me, but I got restless. I wander around the apartment, picking up clutter, take out the trash, and clean up the kitchen.

By then, my mind feels at ease, probably taken over by tiredness, and I slump back on the couch. Maybe a little nap would be good to pass the time until Max gets back? I wrap the blanket around me, sigh softly, and close my eyes. Just a little break for my eyes, I tell myself, before drifting into a comforting sleep.

It's the rustling of some keys that wakes me up again. I yawn softly and blink a couple of times until I realize that Max is back. Looking at the door to the living room, I wait for him and offer him a smile when he appears in the doorway.

"Hi," I greet him, stretching my arms out, trying to wake my body up from being cuddled on the couch since he left. Max is carrying a small bag with a subtle beige tone, not giving away what he might've brought back from his little trip.

"Didn't disappear, I see," Max tells me with a soft smile on his lips and comes into the living room.

"Nope, stayed here like I was told to," I say, and he leans down to kiss me. I kiss him back, but he doesn't let me deepen the kiss, only pecking my lips a couple of more times before standing up straight again.

"I thought this might help," Max presents the bag to me and hands it over, then slumps down beside me. Curiously, I look into the bag and spot a small box inside, still without a logo or anything that tells me what he organized in that short time.

"What is it?" I ask him, tilting my head while grabbing the small box from the bag. It's light, and when I shake it, there's a soft rattling sound. By now, I'm pretty sure he got me some jewellery, but it could still be anything from a bracelet to earrings, a necklace, or even a couple of rings.

"Open it up," he insists, and I follow. I carefully open the box, only to reveal some earrings. My eyes widen when I realize these are the ones I've been eyeing for weeks now. I've always placed them back because I decided I had enough earrings at home already, but at the same time, I always looked at them again every time I entered the shop or saw an ad online for them.

"Max... you didn't have to," I whisper and look up to him, only to see his gaze full of admiration.

"I didn't ask for anything," I say, feeling the need to clarify that just because I'm in a bad mood doesn't mean he has to get me something to make up for it—especially not when he isn't even the reason for my not-so-ideal emotions.

"I know, but you had a rough day, and this is something that makes you smile." Max explains, and I lean my head against his shoulder, searching for his touch while my eyes wander back to the earrings. They aren't extravagant, but they still have something that catches my interest.

"How did you know I wanted these?" I ask Max after we sit there in silence for a few moments. I know I love these earrings, but how did Max pick exactly this pair in such a short time? I don't remember if I ever told him I liked them because usually, Max has a habit of just buying me everything I like. This led to some fights at the beginning of our relationship, but by now, we've figured out a good balance—me not telling him everything I like and him simply not buying all of it at first glance.

"I pay attention," he grins, and I realize he often strolls along during my shopping, and even though I wasn't aware of it, he's probably seen me eye these earrings multiple times. Just when I want to say something, Max adds another thing.

"And there might be a food delivery on its way."

"I love you," I sigh and wrap my arms around his torso. On days like this, it feels like this relationship is more of a dream than reality, but Max always tries to remind me that everything he does isn't just an imaginary thing.

"I love you too," Max whispers and presses a soft kiss on the top of my head, his hand roaming over my back like he's brushing away all the bad things with every soft stroke.

"Thank you, Max, you really do make everything better," I tell him, something I should remind him of more often. As bad as a situation might be, Max always finds a way to make it better again.

"Just glad when I can help." He pulls me closer, nuzzles his head against mine, and we stay cuddled like this until the food delivery comes to make the evening even more cozy.

[shiningmystic]

Close your eyes and pick a numbered flower:

PAC - 🧲 what attracts people to you?/what do people find attractive about you?

🍀⚘❁

Welcome to my short and sweet PAC reading, hope you enjoy your stay! If you did reblog to spread the reading, like or tip, Thank you stars. Don't be afraid to pick a second pile or even all of them; let me know what you picked! Take what resonates and leave what doesn’t ❤️

[Ko-fi]

Flower One: Queen of wands (rx), King of Wands (rx), The sun (rx), Two of pentacles, The Fool, Five of cups (rx)

For the people who pick pile one I see your anger and strong personality as the first thing that draws people to you. The rage within you is a powerful thing, the injustice and the empty-headed people who surround you only make this side of you worse. I see plenty of attractive things like your maturity, and yet you also have a really fun side that's equally attractive; you’re gorgeous when you relax btw. I see this balance of sass and feistiness paired well with the fun and free side. Some of you are jokesters, making people laugh will always draw them in, very flirty energy even if you’re not trying. You look like you have your life together even if you don't, you may give off this energy of always having the answer but it’s more like you know what you can do and you’re confident in yourself or at least in your abilities. You always seem to handle things with grace as you go through life; people see this about you and are like, wow (I’m getting you have a lot of admirers).

I can see a few rebels in here, lots of different clothing styles in this pile and enjoying your self-expression; you enjoying yourself is just breathtaking. I see people also think your attractive even when you are in a negative mood which is interesting (resting bitch face?); maybe it's more like they (people around you) see your layered personality plus how you handle situations so maturely yet still so you. I'm also getting a message of you being able to call out something for what it is. You candidly pointing out someone's lies is suuuuuper admirable thanks for existing. Just to add if you don't think you're attractive the energy says otherwise; much thirst from your admirers in this pile, that’s all I'm saying.

Flower Two: Ace of Pentacles, Seven of pentacles (rx), Page of wands (rx), High priestess (rx), Nine of wands (rx), Ten of pentacles (rx)

There is a natural magnetic energy that comes from you. I see with a steady hand and some time investment you attract everything pretty easily but I can see this slow taking your time thing being a bit difficult for you because you are an excitable person or at least with the things that interest you. With this, people find very endearing, I’m getting your charming in your own way. There is a naivety here, a pure fun and positive person. You are a light bulb in a room, someone different and refreshing to experience and this is what makes you magnetic to many people. I cannot see what you do exactly, but there is this passive charm I keep having to mention. I also see a giver, someone who is thoughtful and considerate.

I feel like a lot of the people who have picked this pile have a bit of a lack of awareness at times when it comes to social stuff (maybe like cues or just not reading the room right). This is an attractive trait because it means you have no ulterior motive, people may read you pretty clearly and know you mean no harm; someone you can let your guard down with, that is you. This can be charming, but this can also attract the wrong people too so be aware. You are a magnet to many types of energies which just gives me a peak of how many types of people picked this pile but also gives me the vibes of intuitives and psychics; this is the mixed bag pile for sure so remember to just take what resonates.

I see a stubborn streak with half of you, someone who won't back down which is similar to the first pile; Both piles won't turn away from something that is in their way but for you it’s more about defending the ones closest to you. These things make you magnetic to others and they want to open you up. I see a down to earth person, someone who cares and wants to learn but also can sympathize. Ok Ok, some of you are shy, people who feel restricted when trying to connect with others but that is ok, you do have attractive traits, and your voice deserves to be heard. huh, it's kinda silly that even when you try to stay unseen people still see you.

Flower Three: Three of wands (rx), Five of cups, Nine of swords, Three of cups, Six of cups (rx), Page of swords (rx)

So, I am instantly getting that even with the burdens in the past you seem to always bring joy and love to the people you surround yourself with; similar vibes to pile two but you are way more active and try to show your love and care through actions. You're a person who lives in the moment, a great listener and partier all at the same time. I keep hearing someone saying you are a great friend and have a trustworthy opinion because you give unbais straight thoughts even if you have your own opinion you don't just stay ignorant, you hear and listen to truth. I see you take accountability for the things you say and do, holy crap that is so attractive to read haha. You are a fair person and try your best which is all anyone could ask of you, this humble yet thoughtful energy makes a lot of sense if a heavy past has shaped you.

It's interesting to see a duality in this pile, what I see is a person who can let go and have fun in the moment enjoying their friends and the ones they love yet also able to reflect and understand deep dark concepts about reality, philosopher energy. I see you may not show everyone every part of you and may be shy but some of you just don't see the need for everyone to see what you're doing with your life which brings a mystery energy, this draws people too you believe it or not. There may be some smart mouth people in this pile who enjoy dark humor. Interesting to see this as something others around you are attracted to. I don't think your hardcore dark humor (maybe some of you are), but I see you being able to crack a joke about hardship and the bull that has happened in life because it's a way you let go and heal. Healing looks different for everyone, you know who you want in your space and that is something respectable and a sign of an intelligent person.

- ShiningMystic 🦢

Only decks used were the original Rider-Waite Tarot Card Deck

[returntosunder]

Nightmare Redraw 1 year apart

This nightmare design is still a concept, so expect some changes later

I wanna talk about something very personal under the cut. It's related to the history of the drawing. I've been debating if i should even include it in the post, but it feels wrong not to. You don't have to read it.

I'll probably make a separate post with just the drawings, but without the story.

TRIGGER WARNING:

Mentions of Depression and Sh under the cut

Im gonna try to keep it somewhat short, but its probably not gonna be.

Two years ago, I was the lowest point in my life. I had a fight with people who I've considered friends since middle school, and now we don't talk. I had lost my job months before that too. That led me down a hole that I've never thought I'd get out of for the longest time.

I couldn't draw, I couldn't create anything for months. It was the one thing that I felt was the most heartbreaking. Whenever i lifted up a pen, i just stared at the paper and did nothing. I even bought a tablet so I could do digital art, i was able to draw some stuff but I was never fully happy with my drawings. After a while, I went back to how i was before.

I don't really have good support at home, so I've tried to figure it out on my own. A way I would distract myself from hurting myself was to binge watch YouTube video compilations.

While doing that, I found a tiktok compilation of Undertale aus. At the time, i hadn't interacted with the fandom in 6 years. I was gonna skip it, but instead I watched it. For some reason (probably Nostalgia) watching it made me feel happy, I felt happy for the first time in months

And the first time in months, i was motivated to draw again, so I grabbed my pen and doodled nightmare from memory, the one from above. After that, I was drawing as many characters as I could remember at the time, and i slowly got better. Both at drawing and mentally

And now a full year later, I'm here posting my art that I'm proud of. I've made new friends, and I feel happy. I obviously don't always feel my best, especially cause depression doesn't just go away, but I'm happier than I was a year ago. It's progress

In a way, this is kinda me celebrating that year-long progress. But it still feels weird knowing that this fucking video games weird ass alternates (/aff) is the reason I got out of a dark place. But I'm very happy it did... and it's even weirder that it's the Guardian of fucking Negativity that did it

For those who read till the end. Ty <3

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

Vaggie: “Charlie. You know I love you, right?”

Charlie: “….”

Charlie: “…before I answer, can I ask YOU a question?”

Vaggie: “Sure, babe. Fire away.”

Charlie: “Okay.”

Charlie: “Is this about the singing cannibal quartet love song turned massacre in the hotel lobby?”

Vaggie: “No.”

Charlie: “Is it about the supposedly non-man eating flowers that tried eating Angel Dust, which Niffty won’t let us get rid of now because she wants to train them to hunt cockroaches with her?”

Vaggie: “No.”

Charlie: “Is it about the alleged cookies Husk is still in bed recovering from taste testing?”

Vaggie: “Those were cookies?”

Charlie: “Allegedly. In a previous life maybe.”

Vaggie: “Huh. They weren’t bad.”

Charlie: “They- Vaggie, you didn’t actually EAT-”

Vaggie: “After wrestling Angel Dust out of the third flower in a row? I was hungry. The kitchen was on fire earlier so I knew you’d made something. And they were sitting in a common area, unclaimed and unlabeled.”

Charlie: “I put CAUTION TAPE around them!!”

Vaggie: “We don’t have anyone staying here named Caution or Hazardous Waste. Not yet, anyway.”

Charlie: “ARE YOU FEELING OKAY!?”

Vaggie: “Fine. This isn’t about the uh, ‘alleged cookies’.”

Charlie: “Well then what is it about? Am I forgetting something else?”

Vaggie: “Maybe. Are you gonna answer my question now?”

Charlie: “Of course I know you love me, Vaggie. Absolutely."

Vaggie: "Then-"

Charlie: "A dangerous amount, even- you sure you’re feeling alright? Those cookies... poor Husk…”

Vaggie: “Husk is on average 40% alcohol and not used to solid foods. This was a good learning experience for him, trust me.”

Charlie: “I do! I do I do, I just, also really hope Angel Dust knows how to BE an actual bedside nurse as well as DRESS like one. A. Sexy one.”

Vaggie: “We’ll save Husk from medical malpractice in a minute. Right now though…”

Vaggie: (smooch the tol gf)

Charlie: “?”

Vaggie: “You don’t have to do extra things like this, sweetie.”

Charlie: “Oh.”

Vaggie: “Not that I didn’t love the thought behind it.”

Charlie: “There were no thoughts. Just, wow I love my girlfriend, wow I really hope she knows I love her.”

Vaggie: “I do. You’re amazing, and doing normal hotel crisis things with you is already amazing enough.”

Charlie: (droops) “I know, I know…”

Vaggie: “So?”

Charlie: “Well that’s the THING though! We’ve only been doing hotel stuff!”

Vaggie: “It’s a pretty wide range of activities you gotta admit.”

Charlie: “Oh sure right, sooo varied- stop a murder, fight to stop a murder, try not to do a murder, replace THIS fix THAT organize another group talk and go into red alert whenever the things get suspiciously quiet- go collect the bodies, probably reassemble them, pay the bills, supervised arts and crafts and Cherri still makes a BOMB somehow-”

Vaggie: “Everyone getting together to blow it up outside was kinda sweet.”

Charlie: “And that’s great! We’re doing great, things are going good, it’s just- WE don’t do anything that’s just for US.”

Vaggie: “That what’s bothering you?”

Charlie: “Bothering me? BOTHERING ME?? Vaggie our last outing together was dragging you back up to HEAVEN where the people who left you in hell also BLAKMAILED YOU!"

Vaggie: "Could've been worse."

Charlie: "IT WAS HORRIBLE! A NEGATIVE TIME TOGTHER! I’m gonna explode- I haven’t taken you on an actual date in MONTHS!!!”

Vaggie: “So let’s go then.”

Charlie: “I know we can’t just leave the hotel, but that doesn’t stop-”

Charlie: “…”

Charlie: “Huh?”

Vaggie: “Let’s go. We can take the rest of the night off.”

Charlie: “….can we?”

Vaggie: “Sure. Niffty’s busy with her new murder plant buddies, Husk’s busy being sick, Angel Dust’s busy with Husk, and Cherri Bomb… well. If the singing cannibal duo wants to keep playing exploding volleyball with her out back then that’s their problem, not ours.”

Charlie: “It’ll be our problem REAL quick if anyone spikes the bomb at the hotel!”

Vaggie: “It’ll be just another Tuesday, another hole in the wall, and a chance for Cherri to learn about the wonders of vacuum cleaners and wall plaster.”

Charlie: “Which you won’t be able to sleep knowing about until you’ve redone the whole thing yourself.”

Vaggie: “That’s still just another Tuesday.”

Charlie: “What about Husk being sick? AND suffering under Angel Dust’s dubiously sexy medical care?”

Vaggie: “If they’re bothering each other they can’t be getting into trouble with anyone else. Win-win.”

Charlie: “Niffty is building an army.”

Vaggie: “Good for her.”

Charlie: “She might be planning on wiping out all life in the hotel???”

Vaggie: “Hell forbid the cleaning ladies do anything.”

Charlie: “Why are you suddenly so okay with mess and chaos? You HATE messes and chaos! You patrol the hotel just to check everyone’s doing what you thought they’d be doing, based on all the little schedules you keep making on them!”

Vaggie: “Which they didn’t need to hear you yelling about but sure.”

Charlie: “You refold all my laundry so the creases line up just right! Why- oh no.”

Charlie: (gasp) “Vaggie, don’t panic, but I think the evil fail cookies are affecting you-”

Vaggie: “Charlie-” (laughing) “-no, they’re not. Maybe I’m fine with a little extra mess and chaos, if it means spending time with you.”

Charlie: “….”

Charlie: “How many fingers am I holding up?”

Vaggie: “Triangle. Wanna go on a date with me?”

Charlie: “YE- wait, you’re sure though?”

Vaggie: “I’m sure.”

Charlie: “Really sure?”

Vaggie: “Very.”

Charlie: “It’s not a fun date if it makes you super stressed afterwards.”

Vaggie: “I’m always stressed. It’d be nice if I could at least get some uninterrupted ‘stare at my beautiful girlfriend’ time while I’m at it.”

Charlie: “The hotel’s gonna be in RUINS when we get back. Our friends might be on fire by then.”

Vaggie: “C’mon, they’re not our kids. They’re all responsible adults….”

Chaggie: “…..”

Vaggie: “….they’re all adults…”

Charlie: “Who we’re kinda responsible for…?”

Vaggie: “Not for tonight.”

Charlie: (sighing) “That WOULD be nice.”

Vaggie: “So let’s make it happen. Date night?”

Charlie: “-ES YES YES YES YES-”

Vaggie: “That a yes?”

Charlie: “YES!!! I- Hold on, wait wait, I’ve got-”

Charlie: (pulls out several papers covered in writing and diagrams)

Charlie: “…I’ve got, let’s see here-”

Vaggie: “Notes?”

Charlie: “-seven quick pick up date ideas that don’t need ANY preparation-”

Vaggie: “You made plans for dates you didn’t even think we’d go on?”

Charlie: “Well it never hurts to dream about something, right? That way you get to have fun either way, and you’ll be ready if it does happen!”

Vaggie: “I love you.”

Charlie: (grinning) “You love that you’ve infected me with note cards and organizing thoughts and things~”

Vaggie: “That too.”

Charlie: “Well according to my wonderful notes, the least stressful date option is…. Cannibal Town!”

Vaggie: “They have that dress code don’t they.”

Charlie: “Unless you wanna get your cute butt chased for all the wrong reasons, yep! They do!”

Vaggie: “Is this you wanting to see me in a fancy-ass dress?”

Charlie: “And to stroll down the nicely kept streets arm-in-arm with you, enjoyed the quiet atmosphere not filled with random agonized screams, stopping to admire the beautiful and very well composted flower beds…”

Vaggie: “I’d stroll with you anywhere, so count me in.”

Charlie: “YES! Oh I already LOVE THIS- and Vaggie?”

Vaggie: “Yeah?”

Charlie: “I love you too.”

Vaggie: “Wow really. Had no idea.”

Charlie: “Heheh.”

Vaggie: “Honestly there’ve been like, zero hints about that all day.”

Charlie: “I promise I really was trying to be subtle.”

Vaggie: “There’s a lot of words for you, but subtle’s probably not one of them.”

Charlie: “I tried. I tried for youuuuuuu~ For the sake of my girlfriend, I was willing to go against my baser and more dramatic nature!”

Vaggie: “What’s more dramatic than man eating flowers, that’s what I’d like to know.”

Charlie: “A garden.”

Vaggie: “A g- a whole garden?”

Charlie: (shrug) “We’ve got plenty of empty rooms…”

Vaggie: “A garden, sweetie.”

Charlie: “I was thinking of putting a lot of trees and bushes in. Lots of stuff to hide behind.”

Vaggie: “Our own little patch of private picnic paradise, huh?”

Charlie: “Hm-hmm! Or for makeouts. Or both?”

Vaggie: (chuckling) “Not to spoil the mood but… speaking of plants and compost, on our date, should we bring the other half of the cannibal quartet over to Rosie’s while we’re headed there? Or, what’s left of them?”

Charlie: “Mmmmm NAAAH. I wanna have all hands free on the way over.”

Vaggie: “Hands free for what?”

Charlie: “Nothing~”

Vaggie: “Your hands are already on my ass, Charlie.”

Charlie: “Oh whoops!”

Vaggie: “I didn’t say you could move them.”

Charlie: “That’s why I’m not~”

Vaggie: “You’re in a mood tonight, aren’t you.” (muttering) “I’m not even the one off playing with carnivorous plants, so why's it suddenly feel like I’m in danger...”

Charlie: “Beecaaaause you look dangerously cute in a fancy dress.”

Vaggie: “Says the woman walking around in THAT suit.”

Charlie: “I have to dress sharp! I need to match with my girlfriend!”

Vaggie: “You’ve been wearing that exact same kind of suit since long before you even met me.”

Charlie: “Only through YEARS of unfulfilled potential!”

Vaggie: “Uh huh.”

Charlie: “Tragic, wasted beauty!”

Vaggie: “Hardly wasted with you in it.”

Charlie: “But it was! A jacket crying out for the one woman who’ll finally borrow and wear it the way it was always meant to be worn!”

Vaggie: “With the sleeves falling over my hands?”

Charlie: “With that adorable little blush when you snuggle down into it… Also, the way it falls to almost mid-thigh on you, and how you like wearing it with nothing el-”

Vaggie: “Is this a date night or a do not disturb night?”

Charlie: “Date night!”

Vaggie: “Then stop biting your lip at me.”

Charlie: “Aww.”

Vaggie: “And come help me pick out a fancy dress.”

Charlie: “!!! THE ONE FROM THE COMMERCIAL MAYBE???”

Vaggie: “Oh you liked that look, huh?” (snickering) “Aw babe- is THAT why you stay up replaying the commercial some nights?”

Charlie: “That’s… public image analysis…”

Vaggie: “Whatever you say. Now you now know how I feel every day.”

Charlie: (muttering) “lucky you.”

Vaggie: “You wanna switch things up for the date, or keep the suit?”

Charlie: “Keep, probably..? You like me in the suit~”

Vaggie: “I like you in a lot of things.”

Charlie: “R-right.”

Vaggie: “And nothing.”

Charlie: “I- same.” (horns start popping out) “Um.” (pushes them back in) “Could we also. Wear matching hats?”

Vaggie: “Of course we’re wearing matching hats. This is supposed to be a fancy date right?”

Charlie: “Very. Very fancy.”

Vaggie: “Well nothing’s fancier than hats."

Charlie: "WHEEE! With flowers on them, yeah!?"

Vaggie: "Have I ever let you down?”

Charlie: “Never.”

Vaggie: “And do you promise not to bring me anymore demonic flowers or singing quartets?”

Charlie: “… I’ll do my best.”

Vaggie: “Perfect.”

Vaggie: “…”

Vaggie: “I wouldn’t say no to a few more of those cookies though-”

Charlie: “NO.”

Vaggie: “Sweetie, they were good.”

Charlie: “No. Absolutely no, I am NOT poisoning you on purpose. Not even if you ask me nicely and pout about it like that.”

Vaggie: “You deny the cookies?”

Charlie: “Don’t even start-”

Vaggie: “Girlfriend abuse. Toxic relationship alert.”

Charlie: “Those 'cookies' were the MOST TOXIC THING that our relationship has EVER seen!”

Vaggie: “They were made with love.”

Charlie: “And likely heavy metals? The fact that you willingly ate them is maybe the most WORRYING thing our relationship has ever seen…”

Vaggie: “Cough exorcist lie cough cough.”

Charlie: “Totally different. That didn’t put you in active danger-”

Niffty: “SPEAKING OF DANGER!”

Chaggie: (screaming)

Niffty: “My murder plant babies are in danger.”

Vaggie: “HOW can- how can those things BE in danger?”

Charlie: “NIFFTY PLEASE! The knocking?? The not dropping from air vents???”

Niffty: “Only in emergencies, I remember! This is an emergency. Husk is feeding himself to my murder plan babies.”

Vaggie: “Why.”

Niffty: “Escaping nurse Angel Dust and unnecessary CPR.”

Charlie: “Oh for-”

Vaggie: “Let him. They won’t kill him. Permanently, anyway.”

Charlie: “…. Hm.”

Niffty: “What if my murder babies get food poisoning from second hand bad cookies?”

Vaggie: “Seek revenge for them or something?”

Niffty: “OoooOOOH!”

Niffty: (scuttles away cackling)

Charlie: “Oh noooo, you’ve given her an idea-”

Vaggie: “Too late to stop her now. C’mon.” (grabbing charlie’s hand) “Make a break for our room before anyone else-”

Cherri Bomb: “Hey girls! Uh, you were planning on making a pit for a hotel swimming pool, right? Like, one already kinda full of blood? Right out back? Right???”

Chaggie: “….”

Charlie: “… Hello~! Charlie and Vaggie can’t be reached at the moment!”

Vaggie: “We’ll be out all night.”

Cherri Bomb: “And the pool of blood-?”

Charlie: “So please leave a message at the sound of the beep!”

Vaggie: “Beeeeep.” (at charlie) “Run.”  

Charlie: (scooping up vaggie) “My legs are longer-”

Vaggie: “Brilliant thinking sweetie now GO GO GO!!!”

Chaggie: (flees)

Cherri Bomb: “…..”

Cherri Bomb: “They take the u-haul thing seriously, huh.”

-their room-

Charlie: “….Vaggie.”

Vaggie: “Yeah?”

Charlie: “Stop it.”

Vaggie: “Stop what?”

Charlie: “Vaggie.”

Vaggie: “Mmm?”

Charlie: “…..”

Charlie: “…..fine, FINE!” (groaning) “I’ll see about salvaging the burnt remains of the evil cursed cookie recipe when we get back. Now will you PLEASE stop messing with your flawless hair and put the dress on? Or anything!? Anything being put on would be good now too!”

Vaggie: (smiling) “No idea what you mean babe, but alright.” (quietly to herself) “Mission success.”

Charlie: “I heard that.”

-exiting hotel-

Vaggie: “Almost there.”

Charlie: “Oh please my dad who’s probably in a pile of duckies, please just let us make it out the d-”

(horrific screaming from deeper inside hotel)

Charlie: “…..”

Vaggie: “….”

Charlie: “We didn’t hear that.”

Vaggie: “We kinda already did, sweetie.”

Charlie: “No.” (pouting) “No. We can hear it when we get back.”

Vaggie: “Fine by me.”

Charlie: (SIGHING) “Even though we’re gonna hear allllll about not hearing it when we get back...”

Vaggie: “Worth it.”

Charlie: (grinning) “Think so?”

Vaggie: “Do you?”

Charlie: (already tugging them out the door by their entwined hands) “More than worth it.” (lifts and twirls vaggie down the hotel steps) “Whooosh!”

Vaggie: “Oh is THIS why you really wanted me in a fancy dress? For the ‘whoosh’?”

Charlie: “That, and for the way you smile when I whoosh you~”

[greatmothsukk]

I have not been a very happy girl. The last half yeah has just kept feeling worse and worse. I need it to be better. I need to be happy. For those who wanna hear ill talk some below. Otherwise enjoy this chelsey with her little otter

Last summer was the best part of my life. Constant fishing. Dating a woman I was head over heels for. Fully expecting Trump to lose the election. Every thing was going okay. Then all that went away. Even fishing hasn't picked up much. I've been in such a muck this whole time. Politics went from suspense to dread in a instant and now constant fear and paranoia. I try to escape it I fucking can't. I can't just skedaddle over the boarder to somewhere else and leave. And it isn't clearing up anytime soon. Meanwhile the break up was amicable with no hard feelings but Still hit me so hard after imagining always having her by my side. And recently learned she has a gf now. Im happy for her but after spending months wishing and wishing to finally hear her call me her girlfriend and for that day to never come, it did sting my heart a little hearing her call someone Else that title i coveted so dearly. I know many more wonderful people but she was only the 2nd ive ever found so close to me I could really see her. Also the heartbreak made me shy away from other friends I have a crush on cause those feelings reminded me of her too much and didn't wanna have a negative association with them.

And I've felt like I've done so little and keep watching everyone else's lives move forward. I had been struggling to make art for a while and my attempts to make videos has been stunted cause I hate my voice so bad and voice training keeps failing. And its been hard to decide on stuff to make cause I don't care about what I make art of much. I don't really play video games or watch any shoes and don't wanna. I haven't really wanted to play pokemon in ages. I just like making art of these things but trying to play yugioh is a slog. I wish I had Passion. I wish I had interests that actually drove me and made me excited. And the bigger my platform has become the more isolated ive felt. Even here, once I hit like 1000 followers people started acting weird again like im some upper class whos they're either innoying trying to talk to or Assuming im a snobby cunt. It sucks cause I see smaller artists with lovely little communities I always wished for. But instead i have a web of friends who some of which dislike each other they have one another blocked.

And as for my home life it hasn't been fun. My boyfriend is wonderful but justAs depressed if not worse. Too many arguments. And far too many dead pets. All while the house falls apart more every day and im not allowed to fix it.

My only saving grace recently has been knowing that fishing will pick up soon and that I have been able to keep up with the hoenn dex. It helps me prove that I can accomplish something big. And I can stick to something. Its why im more and more confident that ill be able to keep up with having patreon exclusive pieces when that starts. It makes sure this winter wasn't a total waste. It makes sure I live through it all.

If you read all this thank you. Im sorry if my posts have made you fear at all recently for me. Im trying to stop being a loser. I wanna be good. I wanna be happy.

[concretejunglefm]

coming to bother you with this

i keep thinking about noah being so soft with reader, like holding them after a long day, loving all over them, telling how much he loves them, etc.

or the other way around, with them telling him how much they love him, soft soft stuff like that

I love nothing but soft thoughts and I've been have so many recently just not able to put them into actual words, but this thought made me 🥺 I hope you don't mind 💕

CW: mostly fluff, but mentions of negative thoughts, struggles with depression, loss and recurring nightmares.

There was once a time when Noah would wake up in the night to find you lying there, waging with the war behind your eyes. Now, it seems like you’ve switched places. You sleep peacefully beside him, your body tucked against his, because despite wearing more layers than him in comparison to his own stark sleepwear, you still feel cold and always attempt to steal his warmth.

Noah has woken from another nightmare, the same one that has plagued his waking thoughts for days. The circumstances may differ, but the outcome is always the same: this life you share is not his to keep. Every time he closes his eyes, it’s taken away from him and when he wakes, he expects to find himself back in his old room, the one he left almost a year ago when you entered his life.

When he does wake, he finds himself in a moonlit room—the same one he’s been sleeping in for the past year, building and sharing memories of his own with the person he loves lying beside him.

Normally, sleep would come easily, but he refuses to succumb, too afraid of reliving the nightmare he dragged himself out of and for the rest of the night, he lays awake, battling sleeps attempts to pull him back under. As he does, he listens to the faint sound of your breathing, a comforting reassurance that you’re still here with him, and this is real.

Noah doesn’t wake you, not wanting to disturb you with the trivial and absurd thoughts his mind has chosen to torment him with. However, it’s as if you’re deeply connected to him on a level that draws you out of your sleep, and he hears the faint whisper of your tired voice.

“Noah, what’s wrong?”

He can’t hide from you, no matter how hard he tries. He’s never been able to keep his face from spilling his worries. Instead of fighting it and telling you to go back to sleep, he rolls over onto his side, his long arm falling over you. He feels your fingers find his as your gesture of comfort before you nestle yourself closer.

In the darkness, he tries to make out your features, using the faint moonlight to trace them. He notices the way your brows knit together in worry as you look up at him and contemplates his questions relating to the storm of worries currently raging in his mind, and decides to start with a lighthearted opener: “Do you remember when you asked me if I’d still love you if you were a worm?”

You laugh. You didn’t expect the question and you laugh. Your laughter fills his heart with warmth. It comes not from a place of ridicule, but a soft, sweetness. “Of course I do,” you say. “You had promised to build me my own terrarium to carry me around.” Your voice, filled with sleep, makes him smile. He remembers the moment you mention, how you knew that to be the moment you had fallen for him completely.

Noah had already fallen long before that, but had been too shy to admit it.

Sometimes, like now, he wants to delve into his concerns and ask you, “Do you love me?” with the same playful yet serious tone that you used when asking that question and before he can control himself, those exact words come stumbling out.

Silence follows and he glazes at you in the darkness.

Without missing a beat, you move closer, your hand searching for his face in the darkness as you come to cradle his cheek. “Noah, of course I love you,” you say, trying to calm the raging waves. However, their intensity remains, threatening to overflow, especially as he feels the gentle warmth of your breath and the soft press of your forehead against his.

“What if I don’t deserve this? What if I don’t deserve you?” He despises the fact that he’s allowing himself to indulge in these darker thoughts that currently haunt his mind, and that he’s even giving them a voice. However, the relentless gnawing at him makes it incredibly challenging to suppress them.

The constant worry revolves around wanting to give you the best and fearing that he isn’t capable of it because he’s not used to keeping the people he loves to this extent. Throughout his life, he’s experienced varying degrees of loss, and he couldn’t bear the thought of losing you, especially now that he’s become so vulnerable with you, letting you into his heart completely. The two of you are already on the path to starting a life together, yet some days, he’s plagued by the idea and worry that he’ll lose you, that you’ll decide you want better, and deserve better than him.

It’s your voice that pulls him back as he spirals within his own mind. Your fingers gently stroke through his hair, a soothing caress on the crown of his head as you whisper softly into the darkness.

“Noah, I love you, and I’m not going anywhere. You’re the most selfless person I’ve ever known, not just to your friends but even to those you don’t know.” You move hand to press against his chest, over his heart, your touch soothing the rapid beating of it. “You deserve happiness, and if you believe I’m a source of that, then I promise you that you deserve me. I want you, and I love you, and I’m so grateful to have you in my life. I’ve never felt more fortunate.”

Each word you speak further calms the dark thoughts in his mind, driving away the storm and pulling him further into your embrace. He has no words to respond with, instead meeting you with a soft, loving, and wet kiss. He hadn’t noticed the tears that roll down his cheeks, unsure if they had started before or after your assurance. Regardless, they currently feel less sad than when he had woken earlier. He feels less sad because now, a majority of that feeling has been replaced with your love and assurance, matching what he always provides to you in these moments.

tagged: @fadingangelwisp @deathblacksmoke  @geminigirlfromfinland @fuck1ng-queen @xxkittenkissesxx @lacy1986 @ami--gami @floodflameschosen @dominuslunae @tosoundlessdarkistare @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @lonelydragonlady @th4t-em0-k1d @amelia-acero @dollieomens @I-love-the-smell-of-you-blood @sitkowski @athenexe @trvshdxddy @collapsedglasshouses @overmydeadbodysblog @xmads-omensx @ajordan2020 @astronoids @death-ofpeace-ofmind @ichoosetenderomens @chey-h @blade-dressed-in-red @bloody-spades @concretenoah

[antlersaint]

haii… your reblog earlier has inspired me… absolutely gonna need a fic where quinn calls you pathetic for being eager/desperate to fuck her!!

i’ll feel shame for this when i wake up…

- 🍲

i do plan on writing more like this... (perv!reader x quinn and loser!reader x quinn coming soon)... but :3 yeah! quinn with a very desperate and eager reader who just NEEDS to fuck her. reader has a dick, not male reader.

you are just so...

there are a lot of ways quinn could go about describing you, really. none of them good. you're annoyingly persistent, following her around all day insisting that she let you take her out at least once. talking away about how you'd have such a great time, it'd be fun, blah blah blah. like a small dog nipping at her heels. fortunately for you, though, (and unfortunately for her), you're cute. so, eventually, she does agree to a date; on one condition.

keep it in your pants.

and, to your credit, you do. you take her to see some movie, with a cast she'd never heard of but you apparently know a considerable amount about. and to quinn's surprise, you're relatively chivalrous. opening and closing doors for her, paying for whatever she wants at the counter (which she takes advantage of, just a little). though most importantly, you're not overly touchy. sure, there's little things here and there. a hand on her lower back, a hand on her thigh above her skirt. normal stuff she's fine with and even encourages, throwing you a smirk, shifting closer. the way you completely stiffen up does not go unnoticed.

once you're back in the truck, letting the engine run so it gets a little warmer, quinn leans over the center console and presses a couple kisses to your neck—her breath ghosting across your cheek in a quiet laugh when you jump at the contact. she turns your head so your mouths can slot together but pulls away hardly even a second later, holding you in place when you go to chase her lips. "take me to your apartment?"

it's a miracle you don't get pulled over, with how fast you were driving.

she's half expecting you to jump her as soon as the front door closes, but for whatever reason, you don't. you sort of just... stand there, staring, gaze unfocused and breathing shallow. it's amusing. quinn can practically feel your eyes whenever she saunters over to the couch, patting the cushion next to her with an expectant eyebrow raised. your movements are jerky, like you're not sure how to at all. after you've taken your seat, her fingers curl around your jaw, pulling you closer, and from here, she can see how blown your pupils are. you remind her of an excited puppy, almost. hands clenched into fists sitting atop your thighs, like you're waiting for permission to touch her.

though, once that permission is given in the form of another kiss and you're immediately trying to shove your tongue in her mouth, panting, stuff starts to make sense.

you're a desperate little thing. and inexperienced, she's assuming, by the way you practically paw at her clothes, whining low in your throat. it's unfairly arousing, ruining the lace quinn had picked out just for the hell of it, but she's not complaining. you're a fucking treat.

in what she's sure is record time after only making out for less than a minute, you're straining against the fly of your jeans; something she takes too much delight in when noticing, unable to bite back the laugh that bubbles up from her chest. understandably, that reaction is received negatively and you flinch away, mouth open to apologize or whatever else, but she shuts you up with another kiss. tongue flicking out over your lips, earning her the most pathetic sound quinn is sure a human being can make. she pops open the button of your jeans, commanding you to lift your hips so she can slide them off along with your boxers. soon enough, you're left completely bare while all she's missing is the lipstick that's now staining your skin.

she lets you lay her down on the couch after a bit longer of teasing, gasping when you don't even bother to get her undressed and just flip her skirt up. nearly ripping her panties with the force you use to tug them off. you're lucky she's feeling generous, or else you'd be left untouched just for that.

generous doesn't mean patient, though. your eagerness is cute, but not when you fail miserably multiple times to push inside and just rut against her, pre-cum stickying her thighs, whining and grunting against into her shoulder. god, you're such a virgin it's almost painful. quinn pushes you back, hand around your throat keeping you in place while she climbs into your lap. free hand dipping down between the two of you so she can line up with your cock before sinking down.

you're sizeable; a perfect fit, really. you hold onto her so tightly she's sure there'll be bruises come morning, but she couldn't care less. not when you're moaning so pretty and filling her up so good. after taking a moment to adjust, she rolls her hips, your own twitching up to meet the movement. it's good. better than she was—

fuck. quinn just had to go and say something, didn't she?

you barely even get to the fifth thrust before your entire body is locking up. eyes rolling into the back of your head, her name like poison on your tongue. she has to blink away the haze in her eyes, incredulous. really? that's all you have to give her? oh, no. no, she really doesn't think so.

"jesus, you're fucking pathetic." the comedown from your high is cut abruptly short when she starts to move again. you're painfully sensitive, and you make it known, pleading for her to stop or at the very least slowdown. she doesn't. threads her fingers into your hair and tugs, keeping your neck craned back so she's basically speaking against your mouth. "you can take it, baby. just shut up and take it for me."

you can, and you do; and quinn makes sure she cums multiple times before you even get a chance to again.

[goldenjupiterz]

perfection - lee felix

PAIRING ➝ lee felix x fem!9th member reader

GENRE ➝ angst (kinda??) , comfort

WORD COUNT ➝ 0.7k

WARNINGS ➝ not proofread , established relationship , felix snaps at reader , he calls her angel , reader thinks negative thoughts about herself

SONG REC ➝ she ruins everything by ellise

NOTES ➝ lowercase intended! (@w0nslvr , i hope you’re happy i got past the wally wall)

TO BE TAGGED ➝ if you want to be tagged in works like this , you can fill out my taglist form here !

YOU’D MESSED UP. AGAIN.

it wasn’t exactly your fault - the choreography you and felix had been running through together was one of the hardest parts in the song. but you could see the tension in his eyes and the slight flicker of annoyance in his face as he gave you a tight smile and walked over to the music to restart the song. “let’s try again,” he said, his voice unnaturally cold and hard. you nodded slowly, getting back into the original starting positions.

soon enough, your solo part played, and you mouthed the words and slowly walked forward as you were supposed to. your muscle memory kicked in as you moved in time to the beat, but you stumbled a little when you twirled around and accidentally knocked into felix.

“i’m sorry-” you began, only to be cut off.

“god, you can’t do anything right, can you? it’s wonders that you even debuted with us,” he snapped, lightly shoving you away from him. tears stung your eyes and his own widened a second later, pulling you in a tight hug and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “angel, i’m so sorry. i didn’t-”

this time, it was your turn to cut him off. “it’s okay. i know you didn’t mean it.” you mumbled, willing your voice not to shake. even if he didn’t mean what he said, it wasn’t entirely wrong. you kept messing up, bringing down the rest of stray kids down along with you. why couldn’t you be perfect like everyone else?

you shook those thoughts off as felix said, “i think we should head back to the dorms. it’s already getting late.”

“there’s something i wanted to check real quick, so i’ll see you in the morning,” felix seemed hesitant to leave you but eventually grabbed his stuff and exited the practice room, silence settling in the room. 

as soon as he left, you grabbed your phone and played the music again, deciding to run through it a couple more times. you danced to the song again and again until you were able to run through it smoothly without any mistakes. when you checked the time, it was already 5 in the morning. you quickly rushed back to the doors, took a quick shower, and crept into your room, hoping you hadn’[t woken anyone. 

***

staying up late to practice was supposed to be a one time thing, but it grew into a frequent event to the point where you would only get 2-3 hours of sleep per night. your fellow members began to notice that you were more and more tired, but eventually chalked it up to you practicing harder on the comeback.

soon enough, the new album had released, and yet the late nights didn’t stop. even on your tours you stayed up later than the rest, practicing your vocals and other mundane skills. even stay began to notice, seeing the bags under your eyes that makeup couldn’t hide, and the way you were able to ace the choreography but seemed to tired to speak at every concert.

it eventually came to an end a couple of months after the end of your tour, when felix had woken up early to get some practice in. when he saw you in there, practicing at that time, everything began to line up. he quickly rushed to your side, placing his hands on your shoulders. “how long have you been practicing in here?” 

“since everyone left,” you admitted quietly, too tired to make up a lie. 

“is that why you’ve been so tired for the last couple of months?” you nodded. “is it because of what i said?” another nod. “i’m so sorry, angel. i honestly-”

“i just wanted to be perfect,” you said, a stray tear falling down your face. “i’m sorry i keep dragging you down. i’m such a burden.”

“you’re not dragging us down.” he replied fiercely, looking into your eyes. “do you understand me? you’re not a burden.”

“but-”

“no buts. because,

you’re perfect the way you are.”

taglist: @minleeeknow @crybqbyme @wobblewobble822

networks: @/k-labels

[violetrainbow412-blog]

How about Morgan discovering something inappropriate in Spencer's stuff and the team laughing because it's the reader's? 👀

send me more ideas for blurbs if you want!

“Can someone lend me a buck?” Morgan asked, walking into the desks in the bullpen, where Emily, Spencer, JJ and you were sitting. “The machine doesn't accept mine.”

“Try another day, I only bring three dollars in coins for the subway back,” you laughed, as you signed the report you had just written.

“I always fold my bills in half to fit in my wallet, sorry.”

“I'll lend you one,” muttered Spencer, who was too busy on the computer participating in a heated discussion on a blog about Carl Sagan “Look in my jacket, it's there.”

Morgan followed his friend's pointing finger and when he found the garment on the back of a chair, he searched the right pocket, but found nothing. He then searched in the left one and although he felt the leather box that housed the man's money, a piece of cloth next to it also caught his attention. Captured by curiosity, he took it and when he took it out he couldn't help but utter a surprised whistle.

“Look what we have here,” he laughed.

Spencer had no idea what it could be and turned to look at him, but when he realized what it was he rushed to snatch it from his hands and jealously keep it in his pants pocket. Unfortunately, everyone present had noticed that it was a piece of black lingerie, which obviously did not belong in the doctor's wardrobe.

“Weren't you looking for the money?” Spencer cleared his throat, under the watchful eyes of his friends.

“Well, my hands touched that before!” Morgan apologized, but without a hint of guilt in his words.

Prentiss and JJ had always believed that there was some unresolved tension between you and the man, so they looked in your direction thinking that the fact that he carried women's underwear in his pocket would negatively affect you. However, they were both surprised when they noticed that you were completely blushing and pretending to pay attention to some documents that, in fact, you had already reviewed. Both of them shared a knowing look of understanding and JJ suppressed a smile.

Spencer walked to his wallet to get the money his friend needed and handed it to him without saying anything, but clearly embarrassed by what had just happened.

The mistake that ended up giving away both of you was when, almost as if it were planned, his eyes met yours and a nervous and almost imperceptible smile crossed your face.

“I didn't think you were the type to collect those kinds of trophies, Reid,” Emily murmured, clearly trying to touch a nerve, but not intending to be rude. All she wanted was to joke a little about what had definitely been going on between you for who knows how long.

JJ, on the other hand, kept an eye on you, noticing in all your body language the embarrassment of having been caught.

“Shut up,” he snorted, but as soon as she started laughing Spencer did too and then you joined them.

“I just asked myself: who will be the lucky one?” Morgan muttered playfully “Y/N?” you froze and looked up at him, debating whether to admit guilt or lie.

"Yeah?"

“Do you want me to bring you something from the machine?” he murmured, pretending to be friendly, but from the smile on his face it was obvious that he had deduced the truth.

"No. Thank you, Derek.”

"It's no big deal. We have to be cordial with our co-workers, don't we, Reid?”

A new wave of giggles filled the atmosphere and even you, the most affected, ended up joining in the mockery.

Spencer could only think that from now on if he wanted to keep a memory of you, he would have to be more careful with where he left it.