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moonxknightx · 4 months ago

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♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ : MEET THE FAMILY : :;

╰┈➤ ❝ [PAIRING] ❞ Logan Howlett x F!Stark!Reader

・❥・GENRE: Fluff :))

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆FANDOM: X-Men & MCU

ੈ✩‧₊˚ WARNINGS: None!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥SUMMARY: After your dad, Tony Stark, finds out you’re dating Logan, he insists the whole Avengers team meet him. Nervous but with Logan by your side, you head to the compound, with Wade tagging along. The Avengers are curious and a little skeptical, especially Tony, but Logan holds his own during dinner. He impresses the team with his confidence and clear care for you, even earning Tony’s reluctant approval by the end of the night. Despite the initial tension, Logan becomes a part of your chaotic family, and everyone accepts him.

Part 2

THE COMPOUND WAS QUIET. Too quiet. You'd been on edge ever since Happy had called you that morning, voice full of that awkward yet endearing nervousness he always got when delivering bad—or rather, inconvenient—news.

“Your dad knows.”

Three words that had set your entire day into a downward spiral of anxiety. Of course, Tony would find out. He had eyes and ears everywhere, despite you trying to keep things on the down low. And now, he had apparently told everyone.

Your boyfriend, Logan, sat beside you on the drive to the Avengers compound, eyes fixed on the road, completely unfazed. He was never one to be easily rattled. He hadn’t even batted an eye when you mentioned the entire Avengers team was going to be waiting to meet him. If anything, he just lit a cigar and shrugged, saying, "Not the first time I've been sized up by a bunch of superheroes."

Logan was like that. Unbothered. Calm in the face of impending chaos.

Unlike you.

You let out a deep sigh, clutching the steering wheel a bit tighter. "You know, we could just make a U-turn right now," you muttered, hoping, praying he’d take you up on the offer.

Logan chuckled, the low rumble soothing and maddening all at once. "Nah, darlin'. We’ll be fine. What’s the worst that could happen?"

"Logan, it's my dad. My dad, who, mind you, is Tony Stark. Genius. Billionaire. Overprotective father extraordinaire. I love him, but he’s going to grill you."

He smirked, one of those self-assured, slightly cocky looks that made your heart skip. "I’ve been through worse, trust me."

You were about to respond when a voice suddenly piped up from the backseat, startling you both.

“Hey, so what’s for dinner? I hope it’s not shawarma. I had that yesterday, and let me tell you, intestinal distress doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

“Wade?!”

The red-suited mercenary, Wade Wilson—aka Deadpool—grinned as he popped his head between the seats. "Who else? You thought I’d miss a chance to meet the Avengers again? Besides, I’ve got a bet with myself to see which of them cracks first. My money’s on Banner. Big guy’s got a short fuse."

You groaned. “Wade, you weren’t even invited.”

"Yeah, but you love me," Wade said with a wink. "Plus, I’m the one who introduced you two lovebirds, so technically, I’m responsible for all of this.”

Logan rolled his eyes, but there was a glint of amusement there. He had a weird, chaotic friendship with Wade that baffled you at times. Still, Wade had been the one to introduce you to Logan in the first place. After one of those typical Wade escapades where you'd found yourself smack dab in the middle of a multiverse-saving mission, Logan had swooped in, gruff and full of snark, but undeniably magnetic. You'd been hooked ever since.

"Alright, just... please don't say anything weird when we get there. This is already going to be awkward enough as it is."

Wade gave you a salute. "Scout's honor, kiddo."

When you arrived at the compound, Logan strode beside you, a protective yet calm presence. Wade, naturally, flanked the other side, completely unfazed by the prospect of facing a room full of Earth's mightiest heroes.

As you entered the living area, the first to greet you was not your father, but Morgan Stark, Tony’s precocious little daughter, who ran up to you with a big grin on her face.

"Hey, Morgs," you greeted, bending down to hug her.

Her eyes immediately shifted to Logan, who watched the interaction with a faint smile. "Is this him?" she asked, her eyes bright with curiosity.

You nodded, a little nervous. "Yup. Morgan, this is Logan."

Morgan looked up at him with wide eyes, studying him. Logan crouched down to her level, his usually gruff demeanor softening just a bit. “You must be Morgan. Your sister talks about you all the time."

Morgan beamed. "You’re tall."

Logan chuckled. “And you’re smart.”

Morgan grinned and then, in typical kid fashion, dashed off, satisfied with her judgment. "I like him!" she called out as she disappeared into the kitchen.

One down.

Then the rest of the team filtered in—Tony, Pepper, Steve, Nat, Clint, Bruce, Thor, and even Rhodey. They all sized Logan up in their own way.

Tony, of course, was the first to speak.

"So," he said, voice casual but his eyes sharp, "this is the guy?"

Logan straightened up, meeting Tony's gaze with that signature, unflinching confidence. "Yup."

Tony took a moment, probably running a full background check in his mind before nodding. “Alright. Dinner’s almost ready, but first, I think the team’s got some questions.”

Steve, ever the diplomat, stepped forward with a polite smile. “Logan, right? How’d you two meet?”

Before you could respond, Wade butted in.

“Oh, it’s a great story!�� he exclaimed, gesturing dramatically. “So, picture this—alternate dimensions, worlds colliding, typical Tuesday stuff. I’m getting my ass handed to me by some bad guys—”

“I don’t remember it that way,” you interjected.

“Shh, let me have this moment. Anyway, I call in Logan here for backup, because duh, claws and healing factor, and then boom, sparks fly between these two.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms as her eyes flicked between you and Logan. "Sparks?"

You opened your mouth to reply, but Wade was too quick. "Like fireworks on the Fourth of July. Or maybe that was an explosion—I can't remember."

Logan sighed, clearly used to Wade's antics by now. “We met on a mission. Wade was being a pain in the ass, as usual. Your girl here held her own, and I liked that."

Your face heated up at Logan’s praise. You noticed Natasha and Steve exchanging a look. Clint leaned against the wall, his arms crossed, lips quirking up slightly as if he was already sizing Logan up.

“Multiverse missions, huh?" Clint finally said. "That must’ve been fun.”

Logan smirked, locking eyes with Clint, both men now in some sort of unspoken stare-off. “Fun's one way to put it.”

Clint didn’t break eye contact but gave a slow, approving nod. “So you’re used to the crazy life. Good.”

Thor, ever the enthusiastic one, stepped forward next, looking Logan up and down. "Ah, a fellow warrior, no doubt!" He clapped a hand on Logan's shoulder, earning a slight grunt from him. “Tell me, Logan, have you faced a frost giant before? Or perhaps a horde of dark elves?”

Logan gave a half-shrug, completely unfazed by Thor’s boisterous personality. “Haven’t seen those specifically, but I’ve fought my fair share of things with claws, teeth, and bad attitudes.”

Thor laughed heartily, clearly impressed. "Then we shall have many stories to exchange!"

Bruce, who had been hanging back, finally spoke up. "So, uh... any anger management issues we should be aware of?" He asked it cautiously, but you could see the hint of a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Wade snorted. "Banner, you're one to talk."

Logan just grinned, clearly enjoying himself. "Let’s just say I know how to handle myself.”

Natasha’s gaze sharpened. "I’ve heard about you. Wolverine, right? Healing factor, claws, indestructible skeleton."

Logan nodded once. "That’s me."

She studied him for a moment longer, then gave a small, approving nod. “Impressive.”

Tony, though silent for most of the interaction, was still sizing Logan up. You could feel the weight of your dad’s expectations hanging over the room. He wasn’t one to just roll over and let things be.

“So, Logan,” Tony said, leaning back with a scrutinizing look. “You’ve been around a long time. Done a lot, I assume. How exactly do you plan on handling my daughter?”

Logan didn’t flinch under Tony’s gaze. Instead, he gave a small, almost imperceptible smile. “She can handle herself just fine, Stark. But if you're asking if I’ve got her back? Always.”

The room went quiet for a beat. Even Wade had paused from whatever chaotic inner monologue he had going. The weight of Logan’s words, his seriousness, seemed to sink into everyone.

Tony’s eyes flicked to yours, and for the first time that night, his expression softened. A flicker of something—acceptance, maybe—passed across his face.

“Well,” Tony said, standing up and smoothing his shirt. “In that case, I suppose we should eat.”

As everyone began to move toward the dining room, you felt Logan’s hand slide into yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze. You looked up at him, relieved to see a small smile playing on his lips.

“They like you,” you whispered.

Logan shrugged, but there was a warmth in his eyes. “More importantly, they love you.”

You leaned into him slightly as you both followed the rest of the Avengers. And as for Logan? He had passed the test.

As the group settled into the dining room, the mood shifted slightly—less tense, more familial. The Avengers took their seats around the long table, conversations gradually picking up, but you couldn’t shake the subtle glances they kept throwing Logan’s way. It was clear they were still sizing him up in their own way.

Logan, for his part, remained calm. He was good at reading a room, better at letting things roll off his back. You’d noticed that about him early on—he had this way of commanding a space just by being in it, without the need for flashy words or grand gestures. Even so, you could tell by the way his hand remained close to yours that he was paying attention to every little detail. Watching, listening, judging.

Morgan was seated next to Tony, happily talking to Pepper about something she’d done at school that week, her occasional glance toward Logan full of childlike curiosity and approval. To her, Logan wasn’t an intimidating figure. He was your boyfriend—nothing more, nothing less. The simplicity of it warmed your heart.

Dinner was served, and Wade, who had somehow managed to squeeze in between Natasha and Clint, immediately started in on a loud, entirely unprompted story about a mission in Madripoor that no one really asked for.

“So there I was, pinned down by a mob of highly trained ninja assassins—yes, they exist, Steve—and I’m about to go down for the count when Logan here comes in with the whole snikt, snikt thing,” Wade mimed Logan’s claws extending with dramatic flair, “and saves my beautiful behind from a fate worse than death: losing my taco night.”

Steve sighed, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. “Right, because that’s clearly the priority in a life-or-death situation.”

“Exactly!” Wade pointed enthusiastically, as if Steve had just made his point for him. “This guy gets it.”

Natasha leaned back, smirking as she cut into her food. “So, Logan saved your life, and that’s how the two of you met?”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Not exactly. Logan and I didn’t really meet officially until a little later. Wade just… happened to be there. Per usual.”

“Per usual, my dear?” Wade gasped dramatically. “You wound me. You wouldn’t have even met this tall drink of Canadian water if it weren’t for me!”

Logan gave a quiet grunt of amusement, though he didn’t say anything. Instead, he caught your eye, the barest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as Wade continued his rambling story.

Thor, who had been listening intently to Wade’s increasingly exaggerated tale, turned to Logan, looking genuinely intrigued. “So, Wolverine, your claws—are they forged of enchanted metal, much like Mjölnir?”

Logan paused, mid-chew, and raised an eyebrow at the Asgardian. “Not exactly. Adamantium. Strongest metal on Earth. Had it grafted to my skeleton a long time ago.”

Thor nodded, stroking his beard thoughtfully. “Ah, I see! A most noble addition. I myself am well-acquainted with weaponry of such caliber. Though I must admit,” he leaned in slightly, “I would be most curious to see them in action.”

Logan gave a low chuckle. “Maybe after dessert.”

As the conversation drifted on, Logan slowly began to settle in. Steve asked him a few more questions about his past—carefully avoiding anything too personal or traumatic—and Clint, always the quiet observer, seemed to be assessing Logan from across the table, eyes sharp but not unkind.

Tony, meanwhile, hadn’t said much since dinner started. He watched everything, listened to everyone, but remained quiet, only offering the occasional comment or quip. You knew him well enough to recognize that he was still processing. As much as Tony trusted your judgment, the whole “overprotective dad” thing didn’t exactly disappear overnight.

“So,” Tony finally spoke up, setting his fork down as the rest of the table quieted. “You’ve been through a lot. War, battles, more than most people could handle in one lifetime. And yet, here you are.”

Logan glanced at him, not quite sure where this was going, but he nodded. “Yeah. Seen more than my share.”

Tony leaned forward, elbows on the table, and his gaze sharpened, narrowing slightly as if he was putting Logan through one last test. “My daughter’s important to me— really important. You say you’ve got her back, and I respect that. But if you’re sticking around… you’re gonna need to know one thing.”

The room stilled. Even Wade had gone quiet, which was a rare feat. Logan met Tony’s stare head-on, not a trace of intimidation or hesitation in his gaze.

“What’s that?” Logan asked evenly.

Tony exhaled, his expression softening—just a fraction. “This family? We’ve been through hell. Lost people we cared about. We’ve had our world flipped upside down more times than I can count. And the thing is… when you’re in, you’re in. No half-measures. No walking away when things get tough. You stick it out. You fight for the people who matter.”

Logan didn’t blink. His gaze shifted briefly to you, then back to Tony. “That’s how I’ve always lived.”

Tony nodded slowly, almost imperceptibly. There was a weight to that moment, a silent understanding passing between them. Whatever final test Tony had in mind, it seemed Logan had passed.

Pepper, sensing the shift, smiled softly and placed a hand on Tony’s arm, quietly grounding him. “Dinner was wonderful,” she said warmly, breaking the tension. “I think we’ve had enough grilling for one night.”

Natasha smirked, raising an eyebrow at Logan. “You’ve survived the inquisition. Impressive.”

Logan shrugged. “Didn’t seem all that bad.”

Rhodey laughed. “You’re lucky. The last guy that showed up to date one of Stark’s kids? He didn’t make it past the appetizers.”

Tony snorted, shooting Rhodey a playful glare. “That’s because that guy showed up in a muscle car blaring AC/DC and quoting Shakespeare.”

“I thought you liked AC/DC?” you teased.

“I do. Not when it’s a first impression.”

Morgan, who had been quietly observing the back-and-forth, suddenly piped up. “Are you staying here tonight?” she asked innocently, looking up at Logan.

Logan blinked, clearly not expecting the question. “Uh…”

“Morgan,” Pepper began, her tone gentle but with that motherly undertone of “not now.”

“What? If he’s dating my sister, maybe he should stay!”

Wade, sensing an opportunity to cause more chaos, grinned beneath his mask. “Oh, I second that motion, mini-Stark! Logan here can bunk with me. I’ll show him my extensive collection of ‘80s action movies. It’ll be like a slumber party, only with more explosions.”

Clint nearly spit out his drink, trying to stifle his laughter, and even Natasha cracked a rare smile.

Logan, who had been stoic and composed throughout the entire evening, just shook his head. “Yeah, I’ll pass.”

You burst out laughing, and as you glanced around the table, you saw that, little by little, Logan was beginning to fit in with the Avengers’ chaotic dynamic. Sure, there were still guarded looks and unspoken tests, but your family—both blood and found—was starting to accept him in their own way.

As dessert was served and the conversation shifted to lighter topics, you felt Logan’s hand rest on your knee under the table, a small, reassuring touch that grounded you. You leaned into him slightly, smiling to yourself. Maybe this whole thing hadn’t been as bad as you’d feared.

By the time the evening began winding down, Logan was in the middle of an animated conversation with Thor about battle strategies, Wade was loudly recounting yet another exaggerated mission story to anyone who’d listen, and Morgan had fallen asleep in Pepper’s arms.

Tony, now more relaxed, leaned over to you as the others chatted around the table. “So… Logan,” he said quietly.

You glanced at him, unsure of what was coming next. “Yeah?”

Tony gave a small, reluctant smile. “I still think you could’ve given me a heads-up earlier, but… he’s alright. I guess.”

You grinned, bumping your shoulder against his. “Told you so.”

Tony chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Don’t get used to it.”

As the night wrapped up and the team slowly began to disperse, you and Logan lingered by the door. Tony walked up to Logan, offering his hand.

“Take care of her,” Tony said, his tone steady but genuine.

Logan gripped Tony’s hand firmly, meeting his gaze once more. “Always.”

With that final exchange, you left the compound with Logan by your side, Wade tagging along (of course). And as you drove away, your hand resting in Logan’s, you felt a sense of peace settle over you.

Your family had met him. He’d met them. And while it hadn’t been perfect, it was the first step in blending the two worlds you cared so deeply about. In the end, Logan wasn’t just a part of your life anymore.

He was a part of theirs.

🏷️: @twinky-wink @fidgetingbee @astarions-girl-dinner @layladestiny8 @birdy-bat-writes

If you want to be added to the Logan tag list, let me know!

#logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #logan howlett fluff #deadpool and wolverine #hugh jackman #hugh jackman x reader #x men x reader

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axolotl4days · 5 days ago

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Batfam au angst :) also leading into (platonic) yandere batfam

What if Jason wasn't the first kid to die :)

And what if Damian wasn't Bruce's only biological kid :)

Au idea I'm simple terms: what if Bruce had a daughter in his early years of batman, who went missing and dead, but then years later reappeared and was found again, Bruce and the others won't make the same mistake twice.

Author's note before reading: Please keep in mind I'm new to this fandom, so I don't know much about what's canon. I simply get creative ideas really easily and have decided to share them.

If anyone else likes this idea, feel free to rewrite or add onto the concept, if you do please tag me I'd love to see what others do with this concept

I'm picturing reader to be the same age as or potentially slightly younger than Damian, but no specific ages are mentioned

Damian POV:

It was a day like any other, awful, Damian had to go to school. He didn't hate school, just the people there, loud, annoying, nosy.

He went about his day the same as always, reading in class and working on his work, until suddenly the principle came to class abruptly saying they had a new student, which the teacher promptly assigned to sit next to Damian. Great.

The teacher also informed him that he would be the one to show this new student around. So Damian braced himself for the extra annoying questions about him and his family, after all that's what people always want to know.

But to his suprised? This girl didn't care about any of that, simply asking questions about the class and school. She didn't even ask if he was really a Wayne, she looked a bit suprised but it wasn't the usual suprise most people had, and she didn't ask him any questions about it so it didn't matter.

As he showed her around he found out that they had the same classes, he heard her sigh of relief, but when questioned she said she was glad because it ment she wouldn't be alone in any of her classes and she'd have someone to turn to.

As the day went on they would go to class and work on classwork, it seems his new classmate was a lot smarter than the rest of them and he didn't have to constantly help her with work.

At the end of the day he made a mental note of a new acquaintance.

Later that day

"Ah, Master Damian, welcome back. How was your day at school?" Alfred asked, greeting the young boy

"It was alright Pennyworth, we had a transfer student today, but she seemed to be quite intelligent unlike the rest of those peasants" Damian replied

"Oh? A transfer student? In the middle of the school year? How odd."

"Yeah, I'll keep an eye out for any suspicious behavior, but there wasn't anything out of the ordinary, her name is Y/n." Damian said, but after saying her name he noticed Alfred looked pale

"Pennyworth? Are you feeling ill? Do I need to inform father?" Damian asked

"No no, I'm quite alright, it's just, I... used to know someone with that name, so I was suprised to hear it. That's all." Alfred replied, but he still looked pale

"If you say so. I'm going to head to my room and work on schoolwork before it's time for patrol" Damian said, and he was gone without another word

Alfred's POV:

'Calm yourself Alfred. It's a normal name that anyone could have, besides, it's been 20 years. Even if it was her she wouldn't be part of the young masters class. Still... I should inform Master Bruce, incase he mentions this classmate' Alfred thinks to himself before heading to the batcave.

There he finds both Bruce and Tim, working on the computer, searching for sightings of criminal activity, recently rumors of a new villain with unknown powers had started to arise, so it was the batman's job to keep Gotham safe

"Ahem, apologies for interrupting, but I need to borrow Master Bruce for a moment" Alfred says

"Did something happen Alfred?" Bruce asks

"No, not necessarily, it's nothing serious but we need to talk" Alfred replies

Bruce gets up and follows Alfred out of the room

"What is it Alfred? You look like you've seen a ghost." Bruce states

"Apologies Sir, as I said, it's nothing serious, however Damian informed me of a new classmate at school today" Alfred starts

"In the middle of the year?" Bruce comments

"That's what I said, however that isn't the point, I simply wanted to let you know before hand, incase the young master mentions this classmate infront of you.." Alfred pauses

"That's it? Why would you need to inform me of that" Bruce asks confused

"Well you see. He said that her name was... Y/n" Alfred states, and Bruce becomes just as pale as he is

"I see.... did Damian tell you anything else about this.... classmate?" Bruce asks

"No, he did not. But simply stated he'd keep an eye out for anything suspicious." Alfred said

"I understand." Bruce said with a deep sigh

"Are you alright Master Bruce? I know it's been a long time but-"

"I'm fine Alfred. I just... I'm fine. I need to head back to work now, we still don't know what this new villain is capable of, or what they're after." Bruce says, turning away

"Alright sir, if you insist. Please take care of yourself."

Alfred says, but he knows how Bruce is

The patrol went on as normal, and so did school. Nothing particularly interesting happened it was a week like any other, Damian and y/n would work on schoolwork together during breaks, since y/n joined late she had a lot of work to catch up on but she didn't have much trouble and Damian helped her when she did. The two had even become friends, turns out they had a lot in common, and some classmates tried to joke about how they were like siblings, but the two didn't mind. The jokes did make Damian aware of how... familiar y/n looked. He pondered the idea of her being a child from a one night stand, but the timelines didn't match up so he brushed the thought away, thinking it was a coincidence that she looked so much like Bruce. But nothing out of the ordinary happened of note, not until one fateful patrol where Damian made a discovery

Y/n POV:

Y/n didn't know where to go after waking up again, it was clear so many things have changed, and her dad taught her well. She needed more information before she made any decisions.

Unfortunately this ment she had no place to stay. After all, she couldn't go to an orphanage, she wasn't an orphan and she didn't have any documents or a story on where she came from. She knew better than to go to the police, what would she even say to them? So here she was. Sitting under a bridge hoping she won't get sick. But she was strong, she'd do what she'd have to in order to understand the situation better. Even if that means sleeping under a bridge like a troll, even if it means only eating the food provided by the school, even if it means-

"Hello there. Are you alright?" A voice asked making her jump

She turns to see, some sort of vigilante. She had heard in passing about how her dad Batman wasn't the only vigilante in Gotham anymore, so she figured it was one of them

"Oh um, I'm alright" she replied, she hadn't planned to meet any of them, she knew she might meet batman, which she kind of hoped for because then she could get some answers, but this was new territory this was- wait a minute why does he kind of look like Damian?

"Are you sure? Your sitting underneath a bridge at night, kids shouldn't be out here like this you could get hurt. Or worse. Why aren't you with your parents?" The vigilante (Damian) said, after recognizing his classmate, assessing the situation

"It's... complicated" y/n replies, before wondering how much she should tell him "I... can't really talk about it, but I can't go back home.. not yet at least, and I don't have anywhere else to go, so I've just been here" she states, hoping she didn't say to much

The vigilante just stays there for a moment, not saying anything, and she wonders if she said to much or if he thinks she's a criminal

"I see. In any case, you shouldn't be out here alone, the streets of Gotham aren't safe, however if you insist on staying out here may I suggest somewhere that isn't so easily spotted? You wouldn't want to be attacked. I know a few places that are safer than.. this" The vigilante says offering a hand

"Oh, uhm" y/n thinks for a moment, weighing her options "I'll take you up on that offer, it's not great down here" y/n replies, taking his hand

The two go to a more remote, slightly cleaner area

"Here we are, even if it's temporary this would be a better place for a shelter than where you were before. I don't know what's going on, but if you need assistance, im willing to help" the vigilante replies

"Thank you, you've really been more than enough help and I appreciate it a lot. If I need anything il let you know....."

"... Robin. My name is Robin." Robin says, noticing her pause

"Robin... thank you for the help, good luck with the rest of your patrol" y/n says

"Of course, you be careful now, always keep an eye out." Robin says, before leaving

'Phew.... he's gone. That was definitely him, and he definitely recognized me. Now what. He didn't say anything so they're definitely still doing the secret identity thing. I guess I'll just have to play it cool and hope he doesn't say anything at school. If any of the teachers find out I'm definitely gonna get investigated and then my whole plan will be thrown out the window.' Y/n thinks to herself 'Maybe this is a good thing, if he's Robin, it's likely that dad's still Batman too, which means I might run into him. What if he doesn't recognized me? What if he does recognize me?? What if- what if he didn't miss me.... no, no! This is dad, of course he missed me but it's been... so long... what do I do if he doesn't want me back...' y/n starts to worry about before she falls to the floor and starts to cry

Which, unbeknownst to her, Damian saw, he doesn't know why she's crying or why it makes him feel so... protective but he knows somethings up, so he goes off and reports what he knows to Batman

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aaaaand cliffhanger! Mwahahahaha

I would have kept going, and I know exactly what's coming next, but I've been typing for awhile and I have no idea how long this post is, and I don't want it to be too long

So I'm stopping it there,

This wasn't supposed to be this much but my creative brain decided to run with this idea, so there's gonna be a part 2 soon

Also I've decided to call this au

Batman Dead Daughter Au

Because.... idk what else to call it and if I'm gonna make a part 2 and potentially more depending on how this goes, I'm gonna need something to refer to it with.

As I said before, I'm extremely new to the batman stuff

Pretty much all of my knowledge comes from youtube and tumblr, so bare with me if things are out of character

I've also never written fanfiction before, it's always just been in my head, so the writing is probably a bit funny

Yes I'm a writer in the making but I haven't actually gotten to the writing part

And fanfiction is a bit different

Hope yall like the concept tho

Again, feel free to write your own version of this if you want to, just tag me so I can read it too lol

#batfam x reader #batman #damian wayne #yandere batman x reader #yandere batfam #yandere damian wayne #Batman Dead Daughter Au

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towriteloveontheirarms · 3 months ago

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Cat got your tongue (Percival de Rollo x Half Tabaxi!Reader)

synopsis: Percy liked to believe he wasn´t territorial or easily jealous, but something about seeing you with Vax makes his blood boil.

warnings: jealousy, marking, smut, afab reader

word count: 0.9k

taglist: @hopelesswritergall

A/N: Thank you @kawaiiangel906 for this request and I am so so sorry it took me so long to get to it. I hope you still enjoy. <3

(If you want to be tagged for a specific character/fandom or in general let me know in my asks, comments or DMs)

Dividers by @saradika

Laughter sounded over the grounds of the keep from outside all the way into Percy's workshop. Not even concealed by the sounds of the white-haired man tinkering with a weapon. It wasn't like he had much concentration left for it at the moment anyway, but what little was left of it before fled faster than it had come to him. This had been going on for far too long in his more or less humble opinion. This thing between you and Vax’ildan. Not a thing, as you had reminded him countless times, fur covered ears twitching at the idea of it alone. Worries temporarily stifled with a sweet kiss to the forehead and a deep hug. Filled with whispered confessions of love.

Grumbling under his breath Percy makes his way out of the keep.

“Percy!” You immediately jump up and run towards him, a wide grin on your face.

Percy’s eyes lay on Vax for a moment longer, who sits left behind on the grass where you had just trained with him, looking right back at the two of you. When Percy's eyes snap back to you he can see your mouth moving. Had he really not heard you talking this entire time?

“I'm sorry, my love. Could you repeat yourself?” He asks the back of his neck.

“I just told you about my training with Vax… Are you not feeling well?” Your eyebrows draw together tightly.

“N-No, it's nothing. I am quite alright. Thank you.” Percy takes a hasty step back to avoid your hand coming up to feel his temperature. “Perhaps too much time in the workshop. I am happy that the progress you and Vax’ildan are making is to your liking.”

“Come sit with us then. We were about to be finished for the day anyway.” Your hand caresses his cheek, the other taking him to pull him along.

Night has never been particularly calm amongst the group either. Most certainly not since you had obtained the keep. Laughter and the sounds of people drinking into the early morning hours traveled easily. But this night's rest was particularly hard to come by. It could. Your bones hurt from the extensive exercise each day and the fights in between. Just not with a certain someone distracting you from the sweet release of slipping off to slumberland by needy lips grazing over the skin of your shoulder blades and teeth nipping at the column of your neck.

“Percival…” You groan. “It is late.”

The words come out mumbled and somewhat unintelligible. Still you turn your head until you can see the white head of hair from the corners of your eyes. One heavy hand finding its way into the light tresses to play with them.

“You have barely spent any time with me or anyone that isn't Vax’ildan lately.” Comes the equally mumbled response against your back.

He doesn't stop what he is doing until you are awake again and turn around fully.

“Love…” You begin a sentence but are quickly shut up by the possessive grip pulling your waist impossibly close to his.

“Shhh. This will just serve as a reminder to the others that you are mine.” Percy's teeth nip right below your jawline. Sucking on the tender flesh until deep purple bruises bloom all over.

Pressed into the mattress by his lean hips, you writhe and mewl helplessly. Subconsciously, your own hips begin to grind up against his after a while. Unable to just take it anymore.

“More.” You plead in high pitched tones. No matter how much you try, your voice just won't stay down.

“Nuh uh uh. What's the magic word, dear?” Percy reprimands you with a smile on his face.

He can feel the movement of your hips as well and it is a game to him. He is fully in charge of you and your pleasure in this moment and he knows it just as well as you do.

“Please, Percy. I need more.” You try again with your tail wrapping tightly around Percy's middle to prevent him from possibly pulling away.

“See, that wasn't so hard. When you ask nicely people will be far more inclined to give you what you are asking for.” He slides down almost unnoticeably, pushing up your nightdress, until his chin rests against your sternum, just underneath the valley of your breasts. Scattering more purple spots over them and then wandering further down. A puff of warm breath bringing your legs together around his shoulders. With a chuckle and two fingers, Percy opens them up again.

“Now, let everyone hear who you belong to.” The words echo in your ear as only moments after, his length impaled you in one rough thrust.

A groan in unison fills the room, on one side from the sudden stretch and on the other, because in response your claws shot out and dug into his shoulders. The rhythm with which he starts thrusting into you as soon as he recovers, has you near screaming. Moans of his name and desperate pleas string together to a sort of prayer. The sweetest prayer Percy had ever heard in his life. Until he has driven you over the edge so often that your throat is sore and your body is a twitching mess. Brain so clouded in fog that you can barely concentrate on anything beside his body against yours.

As you lay beside each other, entirely spent, Percy's hand trailing over your side, a satisfied purring fills the room from your lungs. Not even strong enough to keep your eyes open any longer, you are finally granted the relief of sleep. Dreaming of only one man. The one right beside you, who at that moment felt you were his completely. Pressing one last kiss against the back of your neck as he drifted off to sleep as well.

#percy de rolo #percival de rolo #percival fredrickstein von musel klossowski de rolo iii #percy de rolo x reader #percival de rolo x reader #the legend of vox machina #vox machina #tlovm #vox machina x reader #tlovm x reader

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kbstanny · 4 days ago

Text

Treatment (Zayne/Reader)

✿ Fandom: Love and Deepspace

✿ Pairing: M/F

✿ Tag: NSFW

✿ Mentions: smut, mild injury mentions

✿ Word count: 5,051

✿ Summary: She had no choice but to see Dr. Zayne for treatment after a Wanderer left her injured, but his cure for her anguish wasn't quite what she had in mind.

✿ A/N: Hey! This my first fic on this website, and it's on a game I only started playing a week ago 😭

Because I'm a new player, I don't really know the world or the story very well, so if there are inaccuracies then you know why. However, I've also avoided specific plot details for this very reason.

I hope you enjoy!

Damned Knave.

She tightly gripped the gash on her thigh, limping her way down the dark deserted path. She'd received reports of disturbances down at the old munitions factory and had gone to investigate. Wanderers had been sighted after hours, so she'd gone late into the evening, and solo, as her ever-elusive partner had been unavailable. She'd handled herself fine, but a rather tricky Knave had managed to cut right through the top of her thigh.

Once she eventually hobbled her way to a street lamp, she could investigate her injuries properly. Shakily, she removed her blood-stained hands from the wound, then hummed — It didn't look too severe. The gash was long, but not so deep, stretching from her inner thigh up toward her hip. The blood made things a lot nastier than they needed to be, and the pain was bearable, at least for now. She'd hail a taxi and treat the damage at home, and if it didn't feel much better by morning, she'd consult her physician. But Dr. Zayne was a last resort.

Once morning came, she did not feel better.

The pain woke her up before her alarm did. It stung intensely, and the surrounding skin was hot and numb. Clearly rubbing alcohol, a cocktail of painkillers and gauze wasn't going to cut it. Carefully, she unwrapped the bandage to take a look at her injury — it still didn't seem too bad. Inflamed, a little gnarly, but far from incapacitating. Just painful. But she'd faced foes much fiercer than some stupid Herte Knave, and obtained injuries far more gruesome. For now, she'd suck it up. She had a job to do.

—

"Oh my god!" Tara gasped. "When did that happen?" Her friend asked her, leaning in to the picture on her phone. She'd snapped the pic before getting ready for work this morning, thinking it would be a funny story to tell to Tara at the office. But her friend's reaction was a little more alarmed than she'd anticipated.

"Last night, at the factory. There were some serious beasts down there, but you wanna know caused that? A Knave of all things." She chuckled, shaking her head. Tara didn't look so amused.

"Aren't you hurt? Have you been to the doctor?"

"It's just a scratch, Tara, I'll be fine."

"That is not just a scratch! That needs stitches!—"

"What needs stitches?"

Captain Jenna approached the two, her arms folded tightly across her chest. She had a scrutinising look in her eye, one that said 'Why are you chatting and not working?' It reminded her of her old teachers.

The hunters were silent, looking between each other. She shot Tara a warning look, but Tara ignored it, turning the phone to face Jenna. "This does."

Jenna leaned in, her eyebrows raising, breaking her steely expression. "Why yes, it does... Is this you?" She looked to her, and she sighed softly, a little embarrassed.

"Yes, but I feel fine. I promise. If I didn't, I'd take the day off."

"Have you had it treated?" Jenna cut to the chase.

"...No." She admitted, and Jenna sighed.

"Well go. At once. That could easily get infected." The captain straightened up, her tone commanding. There was no room for negotiation. "Honestly, I thought you'd have more sense than to leave an injury like that unattended." With that, Jenna walked away. She waited until her captain was out of sight before standing and addressing Tara.

"Did you really have to snitch on me?" Though she already knew she would — anything to impress Jenna. Tara gave a sheepish look.

"Well I had to do something! I'm only looking out for you." But she pat Tara's shoulder, shaking her head and smiling.

"I know, I know, you're right... as usual. I really shouldn't ignore it. Thanks Tara." Tara gave a knowing smile.

"I am usually right! Now go and see Zayne. He might be a little scary but he knows what he's doing." They both chuckled at that.

Tara knew what her friend was hesitant to admit: It wasn't that she was ignorant of the risks of open wounds, nor was she a particularly nervous patient. She just didn't want to see Zayne.

Not because the doctor was in any way cruel or unpleasant, he wasn't even scary as such. But the doctor was so cold, and the icy chill of his eyes permeated her core with a mere glance her way. Zayne had been an old forgotten friend, a dear one, but now he was a figurehead for her ailments. All that time they'd spent together as children seemed meaningless now. They couldn't have drifted further apart. Zayne was a bad omen, and a sign her past had been well and truly shattered.

But that was only half of the reason. The other reason, the more embarrassing one, was that she found Zayne stupidly attractive. Not only because he had the face of an angel and a body carved from marble, but for his work ethic, his dedication, his intelligence. And of course, she couldn't help but feel sentimental toward him over the time they'd spent together as kids. She yearned to reconnect with him. He had a potent effect on her. When she was near him, his mere presence was enough to suck the words out of her mouth, to reduce her to a shrinking violet with no resolve. Like a silly teenager with a crush. And that wasn't like her at all. She hated not having control.

She wasn't certain whether the feeling was mutual. There was something about the way that he looked at her, on occasion, that made her heart flare up. Sometimes she thought he had a tenderness to his tone that he just couldn't have used with everyone, but maybe that was wishful thinking? His concern for her health and wellbeing seemed obsessive, too. Never had her previous physicians been so zealous, but Zayne was a renowned surgeon. Perhaps it was just a sign he was good at his job, and nothing more? She didn't know, and she didn't like thinking about it.

With a deep breath, she rapped on the door to his office. With any luck, he'd be busy, and she'd be forced to return to HQ and schedule an appointment the long way.

"Come in." He answered — Damn.

She walked inside, standing by the door with her hands behind her back. Zayne was busy typing away at his computer, and he hadn't even spared her a glance. She hadn't realised she'd been quiet until Zayne spoke up again.

"Can I help you?"

She snapped out of her daze. "Yes, if you're not too busy. I injured myself while dealing with a Wanderer. I was hoping you could take a look."

It was upon hearing her voice that Zayne decided his patient was more interesting than his computer, and he turned to face her, scrutinising her slightly crooked form, and the way she carried her weight. He thought for a moment or two.

"Your left thigh." How did he know that? She looked down, but her injury was completely concealed, and no blood had seeped through her clothes.

"Yes, how did you—"

"What happened exactly? Take a seat." She nodded, heading to sit down on the chair opposite the doctor, but he shook his head.

"Not there. On the examination table."

"Right."

As she sat down, Zayne quickly punched one final sentence into the keyboard, before turning to face her, waiting for her answer.

"It happened yesterday. A Wanderer, as I said." She clarified, and Zayne hummed.

"So the Wanderer attacked you directly? You didn't sustain this injury through any other means during the battle?" She shook her head. Zayne made a note of this on his computer.

"And do you have any other injuries?" She told him no again.

"Alright. I need to examine you, if that's okay."

She nodded, looking down to where her legs were outstretched on the table, before coming to an awkward realisation: She was wearing pants. She couldn't just pull her skirt up, she'd have to strip the item off entirely.

"Yes, of course." She began to fiddle with the button to her pants, before Zayne stiffened, taking the curtain that surrounded the table.

"Tell me when you're ready." With that, he shut the curtain around her. She released a sigh of relief, grateful for the privacy, though she felt a little stupid for not closing it herself. She wasn't sure how she'd compose herself having to undress in front of him.

Once her pants were off, she came to a second mortifying realisation: Her underwear. The item was black and lacy, made from sheer mesh, hardly concealing her delicate areas. The type you'd wear for a lover, and not at all the sort of thing you'd wear to work. But she'd washed all of her more practical undies yesterday, and thanks to one pesky Knave, hadn't found the time to dry them before morning. If she'd known she'd be stripping down in Zayne's office for an examination, she would have stopped off at the shops on her way to work to buy something cheap and appropriate. Hell, she probably would have bought boxer shorts.

"Shit." She hissed under her breath.

What would Zayne think of her? Surely he'd think it was deliberate. She'd approached him for treatment, and she just so happened to be wearing semi-transparent lingerie? There was no way he'd find that coincidental. He'd think she was some sort of pervert. Was it too late to get out of here?

"Are you alright? Or are you struggling to get changed?" Zayne asked from the other side of the curtain. Her chest felt tight — how long had she been sat there worrying?

"No, I'm fine. I'm ready now." She panicked, blurting out the words despite herself, cursing internally as Zayne pulled back the curtain. The doctor said nothing as his eyes drank in the sight of her, nor did his expression give anything away — Not that she'd know, she avoided his gaze like the plague, staring intently at the floor. But despite his composure, Zayne certainly noticed her indelicate attire. And despite his healing instincts, and the rather prominent gash on her thigh, her panties were the very first thing that held his attention.

Zayne sat beside the bed, on the side of her injured leg, leaning in close to the cut. He took a long look at it, reticent as ever, before finally meeting her gaze.

"What time did this happen yesterday?"

"In the evening."

"And you didn't think to call me when it did?" Zayne pressed. Her words were trapped in her throat for a moment, before she finally pushed them out.

"Well... no. It was late, and it didn't seem so bad at the time."

"It's never too late to check yourself in to a hospital." Zayne stated the obvious. "Whether I was available or not, you should have had this seen to immediately." His tone was stern, his stare unwavering. She said nothing. "When something like this happens, you need to call me, no matter how late it is. I'm your primary care physician, it's what I'm here for. And if I can't see to you personally, I can find someone who can."

"I understand. I will do, next time."

"You really ought to take your health more seriously. You have a duty, as a hunter, to protect people. Lives depend on you. And you can't protect anybody if you can't take adequate care of yourself. Being anything less than thorough with your wellbeing is selfish, and neglectful of your duties." His words made her brows furrow, a mixture of annoyance and shame, but she still didn't respond.

"Injuries sustained through Wanderer attacks are more susceptible to infections. Some are serious, and fast-acting, as you should well know. I cannot stress enough the importance of getting wounds like these seen to as soon as possible—"

"I know, Doctor." She interrupted, a little snappy. "I told you already. I will next time, and I'm here now, aren't I?" But did she have any right to be annoyed with his tone? Deep down she knew she didn't, that she was only being stubborn, but she couldn't help herself.

"Please don't be so reckless next time." Zayne asked her, his tone softer, his eyes so tender she couldn't stand to look at them anymore. She couldn't take it when he scolded her.

The doctor sighed softly through his nose.

"This will need sutures, but I'll need to clean the wound and check for signs of infection first, which requires a physical examination. Is that alright?" His words nearly made her melt.

"That's fine." She composed herself well enough for an answer.

Zayne brought a gloved hand to her thigh, and although the gesture was purely clinical, she couldn't help the heat that rushed to the spot between her legs. His hands were cool, and his touch gentle, so gentle that if she closed her eyes and pictured a different context, it could've been a loving caress. Zayne pressed his fingers firmly against her thigh.

"Does that hurt?"

"No." She answered honestly. Zayne repeated the motion to the space surrounding her injury, his fingers travelling in a small circle, starting from the bottom of the cut, until they creeped inwards. Zayne gently pulled at her thigh, widening her legs as he continued his examination. She was trying her best not to react.

She cast her gaze downwards, to the fingers between her legs, and her heart dropped. From this angle, under the stark white lights, she was clearly exposed. Nothing was left to the imagination. She was so embarrassed she nearly screamed, looking to Zayne to try and gauge his reaction — but she couldn't. He was too focused on the task at hand.

Her breath became shaky as she observed the way he prodded at her, how his fingers crept ever-closer to her arousal. Just one budge in the opposite direction and those tough, broad hands would be swept over her cunt. Imagining how his fingertips would tickle the mesh of her panties was enough to make her wet.

She heard her name in the recesses of her mind, and then again. Only the second time did she realise it was coming from Zayne's lips.

She snapped back to reality, looking back at him with eyes wider than intended. He stared back at her with a cutting gaze.

"I asked you whether it hurt, where I was touching you." He repeated. She opened her mouth to speak, but it was a few moments before she could cough the words out.

"No— no, sorry. I was a million miles away." She chuckled sheepishly.

Zayne looked back at her, giving nothing away. How exciting, he thought, that he could tell exactly what was going through her mind, yet she didn't have a clue what he was thinking? Zayne was extraordinarily good at hiding his emotions, but his patient? Not so much.

She was embarrassed, that much was clear. Whether the lingerie was a wardrobe malfunction or a bold decision she quickly came to regret, he wasn't sure.

What was also clear was that she liked it — what he declined to express was that he did too.

How could he not? If it were anybody else, he wouldn't give such scandalous attire a second thought. As a doctor, he was indiscriminate; a body was just a body. He'd seen the hidden corners of countless beautiful women and it never swayed his commitment to his work or hindered his professionalism — not once. But she was different. Surely, despite how reserved he was, she could tell that she was different? That this tension between them was all but ordinary?

"I don't believe you have an infection, but I'd like to see you in a week for observation. If anything changes, let me know immediately." He told her, his tone as stoic as ever. Yet his hand lingered at her inner thigh, so close to her cunt she was sure he could feel the heat through his gloves. Eventually, he did move his hand. Despite his feelings, there was a more pressing matter at hand.

Zayne then proceeded with the usual cleaning and dressing procedures, and she suppressed a hiss as he swabbed the wound with antiseptic. During this entire exchange, she'd been uncharacteristically quiet, whereas Zayne was as quiet as usual. The silence was unbearable, she wasn't sure she could ever recall a time where she'd felt so awkward that it hurt. Her body was so tense, and her lust swelled so needily that she couldn't suppress the words that left her mouth next.

"I'm sorry about the underwear." She blurted, her apology cutting through the tension like a hot knife through butter. But it didn't take long for the searing metal to scorch her skin — she regretted the words almost the moment she'd said them.

Zayne paused, placing down the suture needle he was prepping before staring straight back at her. There was a hint of mirth behind his eyes, that came into fruition through a small, teasing smile.

"Don't apologise." His tone was gentle and neutral.

Did he say that so things wouldn't be uncomfortable, or because he liked the look of them?

"I didn't wear these because I knew you'd see them, all my other pairs hadn't dried. And I wasn't even going to see you in the first place, I only did because Jenna told me to!" She couldn't help but explain herself, a grimace on her face, but Zayne remained quiet as he brought the needle to the cut.

The anaesthetic numbed the pain. She felt uncomfortable again, with Zayne's sudden silence. She wondered whether he'd respond at all, whether she'd made things too awkward, but Zayne was simply mulling over the best thing to say.

"You don't usually wear lingerie to work, then?" He enquired, meeting her gaze once he'd pulled the stitch through. She chuckled bashfully, dipping her head.

"No. Never. They've been irritating me all day." Zayne hummed at this, continuing with his sutures. "Why, would you prefer it if I did?"

She wasn't sure where such boldness had come from. Likely it was that her lips below were talking for the ones above, despite how twisted up she felt inside. Yet again, she quickly regretted her pitiful attempt at flirting, until Zayne seemed to bite.

He met her eyes again, his smile wider now. He loved seeing her so playful. "I'm not sure I can come up with an answer that's both professional and true."

Her desire burned at his words, so brightly that she swore she could feel a hole forming in her chest. She clenched, unwittingly, never had she been so eager to feel him. A Cheshire-cat smile stretched across her face, the type of smile that she was sure made her look silly, yet Zayne found it endearing.

She began to laugh, though at first it was deep in the pit of her stomach, and Zayne continued with his work. But she couldn't help her laughter, the swell of emotions overtaking her. Embarrassed, yet immensely satisfied. How unexpected that things were beginning to work out for her?

Zayne finished the sutures, gathering fresh gauze as he began to dress the wound, amused by her reaction. "Do you truly find me that funny?" He asked in a level tone, and her laughter died down so that she could respond.

"Zayne, you are the furthest thing from funny." Though she didn't elaborate, as there was no need. Her belly full of butterflies was clear without words. The doctor hummed and finished dressing the wound.

She watched him as quiet settled over them again, but this time it wasn't an awkward silence. Instead, it was charged with sexual tension. Zayne stopped looking at her thigh in favour of the warmth between her legs. He stared, unabashedly, and the look on his face struck a bolt of fresh arousal through her heart.

He took his gloves off, then slowly, he reached over, tracing his fingertip over the lacy edge of her underwear. "Why do you have underwear like this anyway? Do you have a partner?" He asked her. She thought he sounded almost a little possessive, but it was clear another man in the picture wouldn't stop him anyways. His eyes flitted up to hers.

Her face felt hot at the question. Goosebumps prickled up across her skin in an instant, her cunt twitching from the subtle contact. "No."

"No?" He tested, taking his finger directly over her heat, stroking it up and down over the thin mesh of her panties. He could feel her wetness soaking through, and the way she twitched under his touch. "Then I'm right to assume that these are only for me?" There was a mischievous glint in his eye, one that she mirrored.

"That's right."

Her answer pleased him. She spread her legs a little wider, resisting the urge to moan despite the fact he'd hardly touched her. Zayne slipped his fingers beneath her underwear, finally feeling her properly. The sensation made her gasp.

He merely trailed his touch along the length of her cunt, between her folds, sticky with her slick. He was teasing her, taking his precious time as he lapped up the look on her face.

"You're already so wet."

His voice was collected. He was completely in control, while the woman at the end of his fingers was quickly unravelling by the second. She said nothing, releasing a shaky breath. Zayne stood, sitting opposite her on the table.

He took his fingers from the lips below to the ones above, tracing them gently, before taking hold of her jaw. He pulled her forward, and their lips collided in a greedy kiss. She poured her desire into him, clasping him tightly, pulling him closer, her eyes clenched shut as he expelled the tension from her form.

Yet Zayne, as always, appeared composed. He parried her hungry affections effortlessly, his grip on her jaw becoming firm. Zayne led the charge, as he guided her lips against his, eventually setting their pace. She slowed down to appreciate him, but before long the kiss was broken. Zayne pulled away with a soft smile, his lips a little puffy as he pressed them chastely to her cheek.

He brought his fingers to her lips again. "Suck them for me." His command was gentle without losing its timbre, and she obeyed, sucking on the digits without question, briefly, until he pulled them out of her mouth. Zayne brought his wetted fingers back to her cunt, pulling her underwear to one side and sticking his fingers firmly against her.

She huffed at the sensation. His fingers were still a little cold, warmer now thanks to her mouth. She clenched, feeling empty, needing him inside of her.

Zayne rolled his fingers over her clit, and not too slowly, which took her by surprise. She moaned already, widening her legs for him. He wore a focused expression, lust sparking beneath his pointed gaze.

He sat more comfortably between her legs, taking her thigh, before inserting a finger into her cunt. She whined, though she was wet enough to offer no resistance. He pushed it deep inside of her in one, smooth motion.

She clenched tightly with her core, as if to hold on to him, wanting to keep him inside of her, sighing as he pulled his finger out, only for him to add a second.

This was a tighter fit. She moaned, trying to keep her voice down, angling her hips up to feel him better. Zayne slowly began to pump both his fingers, up deep inside of her then down to the tips. The friction of her walls against him was marvellous.

"You feel wonderful." He told her, his eyes locked on hers, fixed on every micromovement. Everything about her, from the sound of her voice, the small parting in her lips, the sight of her so uninhibited before him — it was poetry in motion. This woman, as capable and stubborn as she was, was helpless at his touch.

I do feel wonderful, she thought, scoffing at Zayne's compliment. She felt blissful, like a ball of a thousand knots had at once been untied, releasing a deep strain she'd been harbouring in her stomach. Ever since she'd reunited with Dr. Zayne, those ties had knotted. Every time she'd seen him, the palpable tension between them had grown and grown. Until now.

Zayne sat up straight, then hoisted her up, taking his fingers out briefly to pull her panties off entirely, carelessly discarding the item on the floor. It was only a momentary distraction — soon Zayne's fingers slipped past her walls yet again, though this time he was positioned beside her, his other arm hooked around her waist, holding her close.

He pumped his fingers faster, his motions mechanical, his rhythm never wavering, and she struggled to contain the sound of her mewls.

"Shh. You need to be quieter." He hushed her, gently. "As much as I love hearing you, the walls here aren't so thick." He managed a chuckle, dipping his head to her neck, pressing a short trail of kisses down its length. This made her shiver

"That's— that's the wrong way to get me to be quiet." She scolded, playfully, matching his smile. Her words were breathy and choppy from her efforts to conceal her pleasure.

"Noted." Zayne turned her head toward his, then caught her lips in another kiss, one more frenzied than the first. Zayne used his lips to muffle the noises coming out of hers, eating every moan and whine she poured into him. He pushed his fingers as deep as they could reach inside of her, stroking her walls with a beckoning motion. Meanwhile, he played with her clit with his thumb, breaking their kiss to observe her reactions.

She looked divine. Her lips were wet and inflamed, dripping with saliva, her hair tousled, her expression languid. And he could see how she tried so hard to keep quiet for him, how her whimpers bubbled in her mouth, how hard she breathed through her nose. She felt she must have looked silly, but Zayne didn't think so at all.

"So you can do what you're told?" He teased, sounding more playful than she'd ever heard him. She huffed at this, far too wound up to retort.

He suddenly began to pump his fingers again, faster than before, which took her time to adjust to. She gasped, but caught most of the sound in her mouth, her eyes fluttering shut.

She could feel her climax swelling. It couldn't be far away. Her body felt tight and hot, her face clenched with the torment of having to keep quiet. She held his hand, leaning into him, her movements becoming fidgety as she tried to channel her stimulation. Again, she clenched at Zayne's fingers, bucking her hips to take more of them. Seeing her so desperate for him was so exciting.

"You're doing so well." He didn't tease her anymore, cooing into her ear. His husky tone was enough to make her moan again, that one slipping right past her defences, ringing loud and clear. Oops.

She bit her lips, flashing Zayne an apologetic look, though he didn't seem to mind, nor did he slow down. Another pang of pleasure rippled through her, and at that she knew it was time.

"Zayne— I'm close—" She just about choked the words out, her hand coming to clamp her mouth shut. Somehow, in the heat of things, she'd forgotten she had that option.

He sped up a final time, his fingers flashing in and out of her with a series of thick squelches. Zayne fingered her like a machine, one clever in its design — to be so quick and accurate without being brutal. She felt her whole body tense, a flush of great heat washing over her, choking out her gasps as she buried her head in Zayne's shoulder. Then, at once, she reached her release.

Her body quickly went lax, the heat and strain fizzing out of her, skin tingling. It took her a few good gasps to regain her composure, eyes slowly opening. When she looked down, the light sheet on the table had been soaked through with her release, her legs glistening with sweat. Slowly, Zayne pulled his fingers out of her, earning a whine from the weary woman. He brought those fingers to his lips, sucking away her juices.

He sent her a smile, pulling her against his chest. "Did you like that?" Surely the answer was obvious, and she sent him a look that spoke a thousand words. His smile deepened. "I'm glad."

"I hope I wasn't too loud..." She mused, looking to Zayne, who leaned in to press a soft kiss to her temple. A delicate gesture that made her heart stir.

"You were. But don't worry about it." She scoffed at that, too tired to do anything but listen to him. Before she could return the favour and get Zayne off, she needed a few minutes to gather herself.

But Zayne didn't seem the least bit concerned about his own satisfaction — seeing her hit ecstasy was all he needed. He rubbed at her inner thigh, the one that wasn't injured, giving her a slightly regretful look.

"I have an appointment in twenty minutes, so unfortunately you're going to have to leave soon." The words weighed heavy on her chest, even though she knew that was stupid, nodding at Zayne with a cheeky smile.

"That's not a problem, I can make it quick." She reached over to the tent in Zayne's crotch, but he took her hand, moving it away.

"I can sort myself out." He assured her. She couldn't help but feel a little rejected. Sensing this, he stroked her cheek.

"You can make it up to me another time." They both smiled at that, staring at each other for what felt like hours.

"I'll never avoid making an appointment again."

They probably would have kept staring if it weren't for the startling knock at the door, and the concerned voice of one of the nurses that followed.

"Doctor Zayne? Is everything alright in there? I heard a lot of noise!"

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace zayne #lads #lads zayne #zayne love and deepspace #zayne x reader #lads zayne x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #oneshot #lnds zayne #lnds #lnds zayne x reader #lnds x reader #lads x reader

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5ummit · 2 years ago

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So there's this post with a troubling number of notes going around insisting that "dead dove" is not a genre, it doesn't inherently have anything to do with darkfic, and that the tag could be applied to fics that are "100% fluffy where everyone's having a good time" if they happen to contain some abnormal (though entirely non-problematic) content like an unusual kink. The claim is that "dead dove: do not eat" is simply a "courtesy tag" that means "this is a very specific niche, mind the tags." And that's just... wrong.

I wrote up a whole rebuttal to this post since I can't stand misinformation and frankly OP was being kinda rude and judgey on top of their wrongness. But right after I posted my reply, OP turned off reblogs because, and I quote, “some fuckwad added some dumb shit onto this post and it is no longer educational” (the “fuckwad” being me and the “dumb shit” being proof that they were wrong). A couple people have asked me to make a rebloggable version of my response, which I've decided to do because this isn't the first time I've heard similar claims and I want to help set the record straight. However, I'm not linking the original post on the off chance this gains traction because OP did the right thing by turning off reblogs, preventing it from circulating further, and I don't want them to get hate for being unfortunately misinformed.

For those who don't know the history, "dead dove: do not eat" was originally proposed as a catchall "hydra trash party" alternative label for any fandom to warn that the content of a fic may be considered problematic or potentially upsetting and to read the tags carefully so you know what you're getting into and won't complain later. Specifically, DD:DNE was intended to convey that the Bad Things in the fic would likely be reveled in and not explicitly condemned by the narrative, which some people tend to get up in arms about, hence the need for the extra warning in addition to the tags. Don't believe me? Here's the original proposal (note DD:DNE can be found on a handful of fics dated before 2015 but this is when it really took off and became a Thing).

There are currently around 50,000 fics tagged as "dead dove: do not eat" on AO3 and close to 50% of those also include the rape/noncon warning (which of course is not the only type of "dead dove" but is one of the most popular and most consistently tagged). The normal percentage of noncon fics in any given fandom? Around 1-3%. That's a HUGE disparity. So don't tell me that dead dove is just a general "courtesy tag" and doesn't or shouldn't have dark connotations. Even the context of the original joke on Arrested Development has a dark undertone. Micheal Bluth casually finds an animal carcass in a bag in his refrigerator with the label "do not eat", as if eating it would be any sane person's first thought. The whole situation is kinda fucked up. And this fucked up vibe very much carries over into fandom usage too, as was intended.

The claim that dead dove has nothing to do with the content's genre and could just as easily be used to describe a 100% fluffy fic in which everyone's having a good time is straight up Wrong, or at the very least, severely warping the original meaning. Also, when someone these days says that they like/dislike "dead dove" most people in fandom automatically understand what that means because of the consistency of its usage over the years and the way language evolves. Whether you like it or not, "dead dove" IS a genre now and the term does carry a specific connotation. I do agree that DD:DNE should definitely still be used in conjunction with other tags, when applicable, to be explicit about the exact type of fucked up content you may find, but to say that the term is meaningless on its own is patently false and I'm tired of people who don't know what they're talking about pushing this narrative and causing even more confusion.

You want a generic term that also means "mind the tags" and doesn't have any inherently dark connotations? Just use good ol' "what it says on the tin" instead of trying to force dead dove to be something it's not.

#fyi I've tweaked my response slightly to remove specific references to OP and make it read better on its own #I hope I don't regret making this post and inviting The Discourse #but dead dove is a topic that is very near and dear to me #I feel like someone has got to say something and put a stop to all of the misinformation around it these days #fandom #long post #my words #psa #wendy's help desk

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alikuarso · 1 month ago

Note

To answer your question about Fresh: Fresh is actually a parasite! He dresses in his 90's-themed clothes and speaks in a silly way so that others underestimate him. His main and utmost goal is to Survive, and the way he does that is by infecting other people with his parasites and draining the life from their souls. Being seen as harmless lets him get closer to them and gives him easier access for possession. He hopes to eventually take over the multiverse, spreading his parasites in every corner of it and having absolute control.

He also has no emotions. He is capable of them, but for whatever reason he is unable to feel much, besides the rare instance of anger. He does frequently feel fear, though.

He is a bit sadistic, and he likes seeing others suffer. This is because when he takes over someone he drains their soul of life, which causes them pain. And to him, taking someone's body means safety, it means he can survive a bit longer as long as he's snatched their body. So he's come to associate the pain of others as something good.

And he's also aware of the creators/viewers, thanks to an event called the Loveball, which is canon to his character.

Going to copy and paste my own words for this [I was talking to a friend about Loveball]:

"So, like seven years ago there was a fandom-wide event called the Loveball, where people gathered their OCs and had them all attend an UTMV dancing ball. Fresh went, of course. There, he met a Frisk called Pacifrisk. Even knowing who he really was [90's parasite], they still believed he could be good. Before this, he hadn't ever really felt a connection to anyone, or even positive emotions in general. But Pacifrisk's faith in him made him feel positively towards them. This freaked him out. [No Fr@ns though, don't worry. That wasn't the intention for this plot.]

As a result, not only did he try to kill them, but he also went through with his plans: the Fresh Takeover [I forget what it's actually called]. His true reason for attending the ball. OCs were either possessed by the parasites or tried to fight against them. Apparently, some people used alcohol to ward the virus off, as Fresh hates substances such as that.

Fresh wanted to take over the multiverse, with this Loveball being the first step for his total domination.

But then right in the middle of things, a Sans AU [which I totally forget the name of X,D] grabbed Fresh and basically yeeted him into an alternate state of being. One where he could see the creators, all staring at him. An audience.

The Sans revealed the nature of Fresh's existence: That he was simply a character in a story. And if the creators got bored of him, he could easily be written aside and forgotten. Erased. His conquest didn't matter, in the end.

Predictably, this gave him an existential crisis. I'm not sure what happened after, but he stopped invading and went somewhere to contemplate his existence in a depressed state.

Afterwards, he had a new goal: To entertain. To convince the creators that he was worth keeping around. Similar to his previous goal of survival, but now with more dire stakes."

His creator @loverofpiggies has some posts about the Loveball, tagged under either the 'fresh sans' tag or the 'loveball' tag, which I recommend you check out! ^^

But yeah, to answer your question: The reason Fresh fought Ink was probably 1: because he saw it as a good way to keep himself alive and 2: So that he could be relevant and interesting to the viewers.

Hope this answered any questions you might have about him! ^w^

THANK YOU BECAUSE THERE'S NO WAY I WOULD HAVE FOUND ABOUT ANY OF THIS OTHERWISE😭😭😭 THAT'S A LOT

Now I want to draw fresh existential crisis mood, That's something I never would have imagined existed

Im still a bit confused about fresh not having emotions¿ but I think I got the idea, but still, why does he feel fear?

I think fresh is becoming my favorite now, help, error do something

(Thank you again for your time✨️)

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i-hate-peas · 3 months ago

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The Old Guard Fic Recs

So I've been a long time lurker within the fandom without ever getting particularly involved, but I wanted to show some appreciation for some of the super talented people who go here, because I have read a lot of incredible TOG fic.

Most (probably all) of these authors have loads of other amazing fics, but I've tried to just chose one from each, to keep the list a vaguely reasonable length. Although then I cheated and did some honourable mentions.

** just a note to say I started this list year (s) ago and forgot about it until literally today when I saw fic recs going round. Any of these fics I haven’t put a description for it’s because I didn’t do it at the time, and if I go back to reread them all this would never be posted, not through any lack of affection or enjoyment **

If any writers want tagging/ untagging etc please let me know! (i knew/ could find some blogs more easily than others lol)

Within Canon

Old Olives by aeli_kindara

Garden of Gethsemane mention = instant tears

Death in Her Hands by superblackmarket

Nile's growing relationship with Joe and Nicky. All of their fics are so beautifully written, but I especially love Nile's relationship with the boys and her facing her own immortality.

Honourable mention: Station to Station

Between the Hour and the Age by hauntedjaeger (@hauntedfalcon)

Andy! Nile!

Ouroboros by CypressSunn (@cypresssunns)

Set after the film, literally just read it.

compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience by Jack_R

A pair of early days Joe Nicky fics that reminds me of 'my wife is a bitch and i love her so much'

let's give them something to talk about by lacecat

When The Cherries White With Blossoms, Be Ready & Be Brave by chapstickaddict

Unearthed by merle_p

I think this is one of the most kudosed fics in the AO3 tag, but it deserves the hype!

Kidnapping for Dummies by Amiril

Similar to above, already very popular, but great and very funny!

The Last Man on Earth by Survivah (@optimismology)

I will admit I don't normally go for Booker/Nile, but this fic sold it to me. Looking at them and their developing relationship as the newer immortals.

Canon Divergent

Retrograde by Pinkninja

I mean this fic is the Big Bitch of the fandom for me, if you haven't already read this, where have you been? But also if you haven't already read this I am so jealous, read it and take your time with it and bawl your eyes out over it and appreciate the joy of reading it for the first time. The level of detail and planning in this fic is indescribable. It follows Nicky trapped in a Time Travellers Wife style life where he jumps back and forth throughout his own timeline, whilst Joe lives his life in chronological order. Exquisitely written.

If Never Again, If Every Day by gallifreyburning and takiki16 (@gallifreyburning, @takiki16)

Another absolute Titan of the genre. I know you’ve already been recommended this 500 times, what more can I say.

though I'm dying to (fall in love with you) by yusufsmoon (@babygirlyusuf)

Travellers from an Antique Land by kaydeefalls (@kaydeefalls)

Andy, not Quỳnh, trapped under the sea. I love all their fics.

AUs

Makes Me Want You More by Sixthlight (@sixth-light)

Perhaps not the typical favourite choice from Sixthlight, one of my absolute favourite TOG authors, but one that is funny and lovely and sweet that I keep coming back to. Shorter than many of theirs but perfectly formed.

pumpkin gnocci verse (series) by Liadan14 (@bewires)

I mean it's got estranged family, suspenseful chronological structure, cooking, spies, intimate and honest sex scenes, hilarious misunderstandings involving keeping halal, lovely found family moments, and the actual recipes used. What more do you want.

The Reality of Everything by Marbletopempire

One of the fics I desperately waited for each instalment for. Very funny, lots of sexual tension, plenty of Cate Blanchette spotting opportunities.

sine qua non by mellyflori (@werebearbearbar)

One of the first of their fics I read, with a very sweet build up of misunderstanding to friends to lovers, involving growing up, discovering sexuality, trying to be nice about your best friend's bad boyfriend, and a long suffering sofa.

The Brooklyn Verse (series) by GayLittleEarring, yusufsmoon, nicelytousled (@marwankenzarisgaylittleearring @babygirlyusuf @nicelytousled)

I saw the creation of this on Tumblr before it was a fic, and it lived up to every expectation. Very sweet and sincere, with lots of great discussions about art, whilst also very funny (Lamp the free loader, Joe sending thirst traps out of irritation) and hot. ItalianAmericanNickyfromBrooklyn and Joe my beloveds.

a good (eighth) impression by deaniker

I love a good hook-up to 'oh shit I have feelings' fic, and this is even more entertaining because Nicky is Lykon's ex, and Joe has very much seen him at his worst.

You do not have to be good by emjee (MerryHeart) (@emjee)

At one point a tumblr post about Joe the Professor and Nicky the Priest got very popular, and I'm not sure if this fic was inspired by that, but is one of the great fics with similar concepts. Such a lovely, gentle fic about love and also identity, featuring also Nile and a very sweet snail.

it's such an almighty sound (series) by raedear (@raedear)

A secret service AU that goes full enemies to lovers, with lots of tension, plotting, betrayal, frustration, and tenderness.

Honourable mention: take my hand (you got me rockin' and rollin')

fight 'til the day that i die 'verse by incurableromancer

Suspenseful, noir, super hero AU that has such a great writing style and is very atmospheric.

if you do take a thief by knoepfchen (@knoepfchen)

Cluedo style AU with lots of fun twists and slow building of backstories, with the whole gang.

Honourable mention: life is not the things that we do (it's who we're doing them with)

#the old guard #fic rec #champagne?#now I need to go back and reread all of these

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thunderingwisdom · 5 months ago

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morning daze

Fandom: Honkai: Star Rail

Rating: Mature/Minors DNI

Pairing: Jing Yuan/Reader

Word Count: 1340

Summary: You're used to your partner coming home late, and you're used to him lavishing his attention on you. It never gets old, and your love for him only grows.

a/n: mom I LOVE him!!! also I tried to keep this one as gender-neutral as possible, I think it worked out?

honestly i just have jing yuan brainrot-wrote this in a rush might edit later?

tags: mature themes, implications of nsfw themes, cuddling, toothache

Consciousness beckons, curling around you, pulling you closer. The morning light tries to reach you through the thin barrier of the linen curtains as you cling to the last vestiges of sleep.

An arm tightens around your waist.

Perking up, but fighting to keep your eyes shut, you try not to react to the warm breath ghosting over your neck, to the smile pressing into your skin.

“You got in late,” you murmur, voice thick with sleep. It was nothing out of the ordinary–he would either come to bed really late or not at all. “Did you get any sleep at all?”

His mouth doesn’t leave your shoulder; a long inhale is his first response, followed by a sound of laughter low in his throat.

“With such a beauty in my arms, sleep itself insisted on postponing our meeting,” he tells you, hand ghosting across your ribs. There’s not a hint of sleep in his voice. He laughs when you squirm and moves to press it low on your belly, moving the sheets aside.

“Flatterer,” you accuse sleepily. “Even an accomplished general needs sleep.”

“Maybe this general needs the warmth of his beloved more.” An edge of possessiveness underlines his touch, his hand continuing its journey over your hips, leaving a trail of warmth that you swear you feel down to your bones.

“��you have to go back soon, don’t you,” you ask resignedly, fingers reaching for his bicep, dancing over his skin. Old scars littered throughout, a story you quite enjoy following with your mouth. “Jing Yuan..”

“In a few hours,” he reassures you, nipping at the delicate skin below your neck, chuckling at the way your shoulders jerk. “Preparations for the Wardance are about to commence.”

“Perhaps these few hours would be better spent asleep, regaining your strength?” You grumble, knowing he would be fine but unable to help it.

“My dear, you severely underestimate the influence your affections have on this haggard soldier.”

“And what kind of affections are on your mind?” You ask, amused, as his hand creeps lower; you turn your head to brush soft kisses where you can reach, readily meeting his mouth when he leans in.

A rush of warmth low in your belly, familiar–it never fails to find you when you feel him smiling into your kisses. Which is almost always. A soft curve to his mouth, gentle eyes, leaning into your touch–a side only you get to see.

“Whatever my beloved sees fit to bestow upon me,” he murmurs, the lightest of sighs leaving him at the butterfly kisses you leave on the corners of his mouth, his cheek, his jaw. “Although, if you keep this up, my simple mind will surely be lured down wicked paths…”

“Simple,” you muse out loud, turning over in his arms to see him properly. Jing Yuan meets your eyes steadily, giving you a moment to search his face. Tired, but in good spirits. “If our general’s mind is rendered such, what would become of the rest of us?”

“There are people more than capable of taking over. And we get to live out the rest of our lives in this bed, of course,” he responds easily, both his hands teaming up to stroke up and down your back. “I’m sure we could scrounge up a meal or two.” His palms slide lower, curving over your rear to press you closer.

You laugh into his skin, sliding your arms around his neck. Questing fingers sneak into his wild hair, gentle as they rake across his scalp. He groans into the crown of your head, melting in your arms. “I don’t think I could live with starving you.”

“A life spent between your legs is a life without regrets,” he says promptly, if a little dazedly. “Truly, that would be the one thing I couldn’t regret even upon pain of torture.”

You roll your eyes, fondly yet exasperatedly, hands gliding down to knead gently at the nape of his neck. A burst of affection has you kissing him deeply, a foot sneaking up his calf.

He’s not one to turn his brain off easily, but you know after all this time spent together that kissing him long enough will get you close. Whether it’s fierce, fueled by a need to be as close as possible—or slow, gentle, pulling you in with the desire to just feel. You’ve worked hard to give him this, a place to feel safe and shed his armour.

“One of these days, I’m going to keep you here for days, coaxing you to sleep and filling your belly until you grow round,” you inform him, the hint of a playful growl in your tone. And yet, it’s your heartbeat that quickens at the darkness that shades his eyes.

“Filling my belly? Not with food, I hope?” He purrs, teeth sinking into the soft flesh below your jaw. His hands dig into your skin at the sounds that escape your mouth.

You long to pamper him more, kneading away the knots in his muscles and chasing away the shadows in his eyes. When you get the occasional evening together, you’re eager to spend it lounging in the tub, exchanging lazy kisses and tales of your lives before each other. Or you cook together, finding new dishes to adore or experiments to laugh at.

The first time he let you sit him down and work a brush through his hair, he fell asleep in the chair. It relaxes him in a way nothing else can, even if it often leaves you giggling at the way he paws at you, pressing his face into your stomach. The claws of self-consciousness had long faded, with each worshipful touch of his hands, and his greedy mouth.

That was another thing that came as a surprise.

“You leave me unable to form a coherent thought, and yet I can nearly hear you thinking,” Jing Yuan comments, nuzzling your hair. “Rather cruel of you, darling.”

Once he let himself settle into your life tougher, you began to see glimpses of it. He’s greedy–for your gaze, for your thoughts, for your hands on him, and the taste of your skin.

“Would it help to know you’re the one in my thoughts?”

“But of course. If it were someone else, I’m afraid I would have to put in extra work to eradicate the very thought,” Jing Yuan declares. A shudder climbs up your spine at the thought of him doing more work, although you being the focus of it might not be a bad deal. “Hmm, actually…”

“Who could ever find the space to slip into my mind with this greedy general occupying every inch?”

It makes him laugh, eyes curving at you. “Now who’s the flatterer? And if you spoil a starved beast too much, it’s only natural for it to become greedy.” You feel his breath against your mouth—hovering, teasing. The intent in his gaze is clear as his prowling comes to a close.

“You’re right. I should’ve trained you better,” you lament. “Is it too late now?”

“I’m afraid it is,” he tells you somberly, a twinkle in his eyes. “The hunger is ever-present, and it feels endless.”

“I have food in the fridge,” you suggest innocently, fighting a grin as you tap his chin. Jing Yuan snaps at it playfully, and your laughter leaves you in sputters.

“Good. You’ll need it,” he nods decisively, before turning you over onto your back, climbing over you with more grace than is truly fair. You want to sigh at the way your legs fall open, accepting his place between them. “I hope you won’t mind if I eat first?”

He leans in for a kiss, then another. You want to tell him to get more rest, and he waits, watching you with a smile. But you love giving him what he wants and know you’ll get to hold him after, when he’s sated and dozing against your chest.

You’ll try your luck then, to keep him close a little longer.

#jing yuan #jing yuan x reader #honkai star rail #hsr x reader #hsr fanfic #jing yuan honkai star rail #he snores btw #its cute at first tho

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moonlightspencie · 2 years ago

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Sleepover

Description: Hotch wants the reader, but doesn’t know how to tell her. Maybe a night in will be of some assistance.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!Reader

Warnings: none (but this is full of domesticity, jealous!hotch, mutual pining, and so much fluffy fluff)

Word Count: 4.9k

A/N: originally posted on tumblr. then it resided on ao3. now it’s back on tumblr. (fun fact: it’s my favorite hotch fic i’ve ever written and my second favorite story i’ve done of all the fandoms i’ve written for. hope ya like it still)

If there was one thing Agent Aaron Hotchner was not, it was unprofessional. But, oh. If there was ever a time he wanted badly to be unprofessional, it was this moment right now. Y/N stood next to him, leaning in close to whisper in his ear as they stood in the kitchenette, looking out into the bullpen.

“You look exhausted. You need to go get sleep.”

He glanced down at her. His face was so close he could almost feel her breath on him. It was everything in him to not lean in and—

“Hotch, seriously. You can’t even focus for more than a minute at a time,” she laughed, shaking her head.

“I’ll be fine. It was just— a long case,” he finally managed.

She turned away, arms crossing. “You need rest. You beat yourself up more than anyone during this one.”

“I have a little boy at home to take care of before I can even think about sleep.”

She sighed, turning fully to face him. “Hotch.”

“Y/N,” he retorted.

“Fine. You know what?”

He turned towards her, arms crossing to mirror her.

“What?”

“I’m coming home with you.”

His heart stopped and face dropped. It took him a moment to process what she’d just said.

“Um,” he took a second to clear his throat, “I—Excuse me?”

She laughed, music to his ears. “That sounded so inappropriate. I’m sorry. I mean, I’m going to come watch Jack for you. You’re gonna get rest.”

“I’m your boss.” Hotch watched her face for a moment. “You don’t need to watch my son while I sleep.”

“You’re also my friend, and I’m offering my time, you’re not taking it. Besides, I’ve watched Jack a hundred times before.”

He only sighed, looking back over the bullpen, now nearly empty.

She turned again, leaning over. “You’re not gonna win this one.”

“Fine, but you need to get sleep at some point, too.” He looked back to her. “As soon as Jack is asleep, I want you to get rest yourself.”

“Will do, boss.” She smirked.

“Okay, go get your things, we’ll leave in a few minutes,” he said, watching her for a moment as she walked off.

She went to her desk, beginning to pack up what she needed, but not before Derek had to come over to stir things up.

“Hey, pretty girl,” he said, leaning against her desk on one arm. “Leaving so soon?”

“Soon?” She laughed. “We just had a hell of a case, I’m getting out of here.”

“Oh, man.”

He shifted, crossing his arms over his chest and sat against the desk.

Hotch walked towards his office, trying not to watch the pair talking. He tried to not pay attention how she smiled at him as he spoke, and how he always seemed to have the right words to say to get her to laugh.

“Why, what’s up?” She slung her bag over her shoulder.

“I was thinking about going to the bar. Wanted to know if a pretty lady wanted to tag along.”

Hotch threw his things in his bag quickly, trying to not think about Y/N talking to someone much younger… Childless… Not a widow. Someone he knew she’d be with more easily.

“Oh, so you only wanted me around for my looks, huh?”

He laughed, throwing his head back a little. “You’re worth a lot more than just that, sweetheart.”

“Aww, such a sweet boy,” she said, griping his shoulder. “I got some other plans for the night, though.”

“Oh yeah? Doing what?” He straightened up with a smirk.

“Ready?” Hotch asked, walking up behind her at the desk.

“Yeah, let’s go,” she responded, turning towards him.

Morgan’s face was stuck in a state of shock.

“Whoa, now hold on—”

“I’m going to watch Jack,” she said, cutting him off with a chuckle. “Don’t get too riled up, now.”

He smiled, almost laughing. “Alright. I’ll see you two tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, Morgan,” Hotch said with a curt wave. Y/N followed his lead, and then they were on their way out.

“So,” Hotch started as they stepped out of the elevator and walked outside. “You and Morgan?”

Y/N raised her eyebrows in shock. “What?”

They began walking to his car.

“Are you two… Because there are some forms you’d really need to sign if—”

“Hotch,” she stopped him, standing by the passenger side door as he waited by the drivers. “That is so not happening.”

“Okay, I just…” he trailed off with a shrug, opening the door as she did and getting in.

“He’s a flirt. There’s nothing going on between us.” She settled into the seat, buckling up. “Besides, I’m too busy trying to take care of you.”

She laughed and he couldn’t help himself but to join in. He pulled off, and started towards home.

“Thank you, by the way, for doing this,” he said, not daring to look at her with how nervous he suddenly felt about bringing her to his home.

“I just want to make sure you’re taking care of yourself.”

“Jack is going to love this.” He chuckled, turning down his street. “He really looks up to you, you know? Thinks you’re hilarious.”

“Well, he’s not wrong. I am pretty funny.” She smiled. “I am, admittedly, a little sad I only get to hang out with him for a few hours, though.”

“Yeah?” he asked, pulling into the lot of the apartment complex.

“Yeah. He’s a great kid.”

As much as he didn’t want to admit it for how childish it felt, he got butterflies this time when he turned to look at her. Before he could think about it too much, he turned the key and opened the door. She followed suit, walking behind him until they reached his door. He opened it for her, and she looked around.

“His aunt should be dropping him off here in a few minutes,” he said, closing and locking the door behind him. “If you’re hungry or need a drink, you’re free to get anything from the kitchen.”

“Thank you.” She smirked, watching him. “Why don’t you go get ready for bed?”

“I will.”

He chuckled, feeling like a little kid with the way she spoke to him. Then he paused, considering something for a moment.

Apparently the moment was longer than he realized.

“You got something on your mind?” she asked.

“Would you like to stay here for the night? I have a guest room, and this way you won’t need to catch a ride home. I could just take you to work tomorrow.”

“Oh,” she said, glancing down at her bag. “I don’t have anything to wear. I mean, I have my go bag at my desk that I could always use for an emergency, but for the night—”

“If you need something, I’m sure there’s something of mine you could…” He paused, realizing what he was saying. But before he could backtrack, she had to go and flash him a smile again.

“If that’s okay with you, it’s okay with me.”

“I’m sorry if that sounded inappropriate, I—”

“Did you not hear me agree?” She laughed. “You worry too much, boss. Now go get dressed.”

He nodded, turning for his room. She walked over the couch in the living room, sitting down and leaning her head back. It wasn’t long before she heard a bedroom door open, and there stood the great Aaron Hotchner in an old t-shirt and baggy pajama pants.

“That’s a good look on you,” she said, looking up at him from where he sat.

He felt a blush creep onto his skin, and tried really hard not to think about it. He walked a little closer as she stood up, handing her a nearly folded pile of clothes.

“I brought you these. The shirt is extra baggy and comfortable, and hopefully the pants will fit well enough. They’re adjustable.”

“Thank you so much, this’ll be great.” She smiled up at him. “Room is down the hall? I’d like to get dressed and set my bag in there before Jack gets here.”

“Yes, right across from his room.”

“Okay, sounds great. Now, you go to bed. I’ll be here.”

He gave her a slight smile. “Right. Thank you, again.”

“You know it’s no problem. Now, goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” he said, walking off.

She grabbed her bag and the clothes, walking off towards the guest room. She set her bag down near the door, closing it to dress. She stripped out of her work clothes, slipping on his t-shirt first. She took in a deep breath and smiled: It smelled like him. She finished pulling on the pajama pants and made them comfortable as needed.

She grabbed a makeup wipe out of her bag and wiped her face, calling it good for an unexpected night out. Then, she heard a knock at the door. She walked out, looking through the peephole to see Hotchner’s sister-in-law Jessica standing outside with Jack. Y/N opened the door.

“Hey!”

“Y/N!” Jack squealed, throwing his arms around her. “What are you doing here?”

“Dad needed to get some rest, sweetheart. So, we get to hang out for the night,” she said, looking down at him with a hand rested on his back. “Thank you for bringing him.”

“Anything for my little man. It’s good to see you again,” she said with a smile, accepting a quick hug from Jack before he bolted off.

“You too, Jess. Have a great night.”

She waved a goodbye and was out the door. Y/N locked everything back up, and popped her head into Jack’s room.

“Hey, buddy.”

“Hi!” he said, turning around from where he stood at his dresser. “I’m gonna get dressed for bed. Then can we watch a movie? I already ate at aunt Jess’s house.”

“Yeah, of course, little man.” She nodded. “Do you want to go in the living room or…”

Jack paused, giggling. “Why are you wearing dad’s clothes?”

“I’m staying the night, bud. I needed pajamas.”

“You are?” he asked, eyes wide. “Can we go watch the movie in your room?”

“Yeah! Why don’t you finish getting dressed and brush your teeth, and then you can come in, okay?”

“Okay!” he exclaimed, quickly grabbing his clothes.

She turned, walking across to hall and into the guest room. She pulled the covers back, crawling underneath and switching on the T.V., finding her way to Jack’s Netflix profile, smiling at some of the shows he’d been watching. She picked an old movie she loved as a kid. It wasn’t long before she heard a door open, and little footsteps whipping around the other side of the bed. He crawled up under her arm, pulling blankets up to cover him.

Jack was watching intently, the movie only half over, when the creaking of another door piqued their interest. Hotch’s head popped into view a second later.

“What are you doing up?” Y/N asked.

“Couldn’t sleep.” He gave a shy smile, then turned to Jack. “How are you doing buddy?”

“Y/N said she’s staying over!”

“Yeah, she is.” He smiled, stepping inside the room. “How’s the movie?”

“I like it a lot. Come watch!” Jack said, patting the bed next to him.

“Buddy, I’m not sure that’s—”

“Please, dad?” he pleaded.

Hotch looked to Y/N, almost asking permission without saying a word. She nodded. He shuffled a little, hesitantly walking around the bed to Jack’s other side. He lowered himself on the bed, pulling the covers over his legs. Jack slipped out from under Y/N’s arm in favor of leaning on his dad’s shoulder. It wasn’t long before Jack was snoring, and as Y/N looked up to see if Hotch thought it was just as cute as she did, she noticed he’d fallen asleep, too. They looked so sweet sleeping there together that she couldn’t help but pull out her phone and take a picture. She set the phone on the nightstand, making herself more comfortable as she focused her attention back on the movie.

Early morning light filled the room when Hotch woke up. He glanced down to see his son cuddle up against him and smiled. He was still fast asleep. Then, he looked up. Y/N laid asleep, her body curled up on her side, facing him and effectively caging Jack between them. Her breath came soft and even, and he admired how she looked in his clothes as he saw her in the light for the first time. She was so close, and he longed to get closer, but couldn’t think on it long before her eyes started fluttering open.

“Hey,” she greeted, voice soft with sleep, and a tired smile gracing her face.

“Hey,” he said back. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep in here.”

She chuckled, rubbing her eyes. “No, it’s fine. I think he was happy to have you here.”

Hotch smiled, looking down at his son. He was out like a light.

Y/N leaned over, gently kissing Jack’s forehead before slowly and quietly getting out of bed. Hotch watched her, heart aching at how much he wished all of his mornings could start this same way. He shifted out of the grip of his son as she stretched out at the end of the bed, leaving the room with her.

“It’s still early,” he said, walking to the kitchen. “Are you hungry?”

She trailed behind, taking a seat at the counter.

“That depends. Are you gonna make me breakfast if I am?”

“If you’d like.”

He smirked at her, and she smiled back.

“Tell you what, you work on the food, I’ll get coffee started,” she said, getting up and walking towards the counter.

He wordlessly agreed, pulling out some boxed pancake mix and stovetop sausage links. She removed the old coffee filter from the machine and set in a new one, filling it up with grounds. Hotch mixed up the batter quickly, heating up a pan.

The coffee pot filled, and pancakes were formed. Y/N poured two cups, preparing one to her liking and one to Hotch’s. Then, footsteps came shuffling into the room.

“Morning, sunshine,” Y/N said to Jack, smiling at him. “You want some juice?”

He nodded sleepily and climbed up onto a chair at the counter. She poured him some orange juice and set the cup down in front of him. He took a sip, watching his dad finishing up breakfast.

“Is that pancakes?” Jack asked, trying to peek around to see the pans.

“It sure is,” Hotch replied, throwing some pancakes on a plate and pouring out a few more.

Y/N set down the two coffee mugs on the counter, and took her place next to Hotch to move the sausage links around in the other pan.

“Almost done?” she asked him without looking up.

He moved the rest of the pancakes to the plate.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” she said, glancing over and turning off both burners.

Hotch grabbed three plates, setting them down next to her so she could split up the sausage links. As soon as she was done, Hotch set to putting a few pancakes on each plate, and Y/N grabbed butter and syrup out of the fridge. He prepared Jack’s for him and set the plate in front of him with a fork. He then waited for Y/N to start the working on her own before he prepared his. She took a seat first, leaving a seat in the middle for Hotch. They ate quietly, sharing a few words when Jack wanted to talk about what he got to do at school the day before, and what he was looking forward to for the rest of the week.

“Hey,” Y/N, nudging Hotch’s arm as she pushed her plate away from her. “Could we get to the office a little early? I’m gonna have to get dressed there since my go bag is there and all.”

“Of course.” He nodded, sipping at the last of his coffee. He then turned to Jack. “Can you go get dressed to go to school, please?”

“Yeah,” he said, hopping off the stool and running off towards his room.

“I think I’m gonna put on my stuff from yesterday till we get there,” Y/N said, sliding off of her stool. “Not sure walking into the office in your pajamas would be a great look.”

“Maybe not the most professional outfit,” he agreed, laughing a little as he walked around the counter, putting dishes in the sink for later. “For the record, I think you look beautiful.”

She paused, feeling heat rise to her cheeks and butterflies in her stomach.

“Thanks,” she said quietly, arms crossing over her chest. “Looks better on you, though.”

And with that, she left to go change. Hotch waited in the kitchen for a moment, almost in shock, before heading off to his room to get ready for the day.

It wasn’t long before they were both showered and ready to go, Jack practically running out the door when his aunt arrived to take him to school. Hotch and Y/N drove to work in a comfortable silence, only the sound of the radio playing low. They arrived at the BAU, and went straight inside. Hotch went to his office, and Y/N was reaching for her duffel bag when the glass doors opened.

She looked up, not expecting anyone else to be there so early.

“Hey, what are you doing here? We don’t start for another half hour,” she inquired.

“Just needed to get some work done early. But I could ask you the same thing.” Derek smiled at her, then glanced at what she was wearing. “Hold on, aren’t those your clothes from yesterday?”

He inched closer, a slight smirk on his face.

“Yeah, I was just about to go change.” She held up her go bag.

“Mhm.” He crossed his arms. “What happened to just looking after Jack for a while? You decide you were finally gonna get after—”

“Derek!” she interrupted, laughing. “No! I just stayed the night with Jack in the guest room.”

He raised a brow. “And that’s all? Baby girl I know you’ve had a little crush on Hotch since you walked in here.”

She bit her cheek, looking away for a moment. “You’re nothing but trouble, Morgan.”

“You didn’t answer the question.”

He stepped closer.

“Okay, fine.” She huffed out a sigh and lowered her voice. “We had breakfast this morning, with Jack.”

“And?”

She paused. “He also slept with me and Jack, but it was an accident. He didn’t mean to fall asleep there. We didn’t even touch one another, it was totally platonic.”

“Well, I am sure Hotch wouldn’t be sneaking into bed with me if I was watching his kid.”

“It wasn’t like that,” she said, shaking her head. “He’s totally not into me. You know how he is with work policy, and besides he is way out of my league.”

“You need to think a little higher of yourself.”

“Yeah, whatever.” She laughed again. “Now, out of my way so I can get dressed. I don’t need any more questions from the rest of the team.”

“Alright.” He stepped back holding up his hands.

“And Derek?”

“Yeah?”

“Do not tell anybody.”

She pointed a finger in his direction as she spoke. He only chuckled, taking a seat at his desk.

She went to the bathroom, changing out of her old clothes and throwing on some new ones suitable for work at the office. She put on a little makeup, threw on some deodorant, and called it good. She stepped out to a slightly more full bullpen, only a couple more people had arrived. She shoved her go bag under her desk, and walked over to the kitchenette table where Derek, Hotch, and Emily were talking.

“How’s it going, guys?” she asked, taking the seat next to Emily, across from Morgan and Hotch.

“Talking about yesterday’s case. The daughter of the last victim made it safely to her grandparents’ house,” Emily said, sipping at a mug of coffee.

“That’s awesome. I’m glad she had them to go to,” she said, leaning forward on the table.

“You need coffee?” Emily asked, looking to Y/N.

“Oh, no thanks. I got my share this morning.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you did,” Derek said, holding back a smile.

“Morgan.” Y/N glared at him.

Hotch caught her eye for a moment afterwards, questioning. She slightly shook her head in amusement.

“What happened?” Emily asked, a curious smile on her face looking between Y/N and Derek.

“Nothing, he just doesn’t understand boundaries,” she said with a pointed finger. “Trying to blow things way out of proportion as always.”

This time she glanced at Hotch first, rolling her eyes a little. He smirked, looking down at his hands.

Emily watched the little interaction with interest.

“Does it have something to do with these two?” she inquired, looking back to Derek.

Y/N and Hotch spoke over each other.

“Nothing happened,” Y/N muttered.

“What?” Hotch questioned.

Derek looked to Hotch. “Can we go talk?”

Hotch furrowed his brow. “May I ask what about?”

“It’s nothing. It’ll just take a couple minutes.”

“Alright,” he said, standing up and nodding a quick goodbye to Emily and Y/N.

Derek followed after, throwing a devious look Y/N’s way.

Emily leaned over, speaking more quietly. “Something I should know about you and Hotch?”

“No,” she chuckled. “Derek is just… Himself.”

“Something had to have happened.” Emily turned in her chair, and made Y/N face her. “Spill.”

“I went to watch Jack last night so Hotch could get some rest. We had breakfast this morning with Jack, and he accidentally fell asleep next to Jack and I while we were watching a movie.” She sighed. “I told Derek, and now he’s freaking out about it like something happened.”

“Y/N. You slept at his house.”

“To watch his kid.”

“Wait, you said he fell asleep next to you and Jack.” A smile crept on her face. “Was that on a couch or in a bed?”

“Emily,” she groaned.

“Y/N!” Her eyes went wide. “How can you still think he’s not interested in you?”

“He’s not.”

“You’re both blind.”

Hotch led Derek to his office, only leaving the door a little cracked.

“You wanted to talk?” he asked, leaning against his desk. Derek stood in front of him.

“Yeah. About you and Y/N.”

“Morgan.”

“Hotch, I know you don’t want to admit it, but I know you’re into that girl.” Derek crossed his arms over his chest. “She told me about last night and this morning.”

“She was watching Jack. Nothing more.” Hotch shook his head. “This isn’t an appropriate conversation for work.”

“Work doesn’t start for another ten minutes.”

Hotch only stared.

“Look, I just think you should ask her out.”

“I’m not going to do that.”

“Why not?” Derek let his arms drop to rest on his hips, tilting his head.

“I’m her boss,” he replied, straightening up.

“But what is really the harm in trying?”

“She’s—” he started, and then paused, shaking his head.

“She’s what? Amazing? Gorgeous? Smart?”

“She wouldn’t be interested in someone like me. So, it doesn’t matter anyways,” Hotch said, glancing down. “We start the day in 5.”

“Great, that’s plenty of time.” Derek paused a second. “Why would you think she’s not into you?”

“I’m— I have a child, and I’m a widow. She doesn’t need all of that on her plate. Plus, she’s young. She’d be better off with somebody your age,” he said, looking up again to catch Derek’s eye.

“Man, you are so blind.”

Derek chuckled, shaking his head.

The day started as usual. The team had a briefing, and then went to work at their desks for a while. Today was going to be a slower day, and everyone seemed to be thankful they could get home at the end of the day. At lunch, Y/N noticed Derek and Emily talking quietly: she thought it was awfully suspicious.

“Hey, you two,” she called out, walking over to Emily’s desk. “Why are you being so quiet, it’s weird.”

Derek glanced up. “Nothing.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes, turning to Emily in question.

“Don’t worry about it, it’s nothing.”

“You two are bad liars.” Then, she had an idea. “Hey, Reid.”

His head popped up, looking to her. “Yeah?”

“You’ve been sitting here next to them, what are they talking about?”

He looked lost, glancing around. “I—Uh… I have no clue.”

“Now, see, you I believe,” she laughed, ruffling his hair as she went past.

He frowned, quickly smoothing it back out. She headed off towards Hotch’s office instead, trying to ignore the whispers that has started back up.

She knocked quietly on the open door.

“Hey, you busy?”

She popped her head in to see him eating a sandwich at his desk.

He shook his head, swallowing a bite. “No, come in.”

She closed the door and went to sit at the chair by his desk.

“Derek has been weird all day. What did you guys talk about earlier? I can’t get an answer to save my life.”

His eyes went wide.

“What?” she questioned, noticing Hotch going more on-edge.

“Uh, it was— It was nothing. Just a work thing.”

“You know, you’re a really bad liar, too.”

He chuckled, looking away. “I just don’t think this is the right time to talk.”

She furrowed her brow. “What do you mean?”

He glanced up at her, looking her in the eyes, searching for an easy answer.

“It was just— It was about last night. And this morning.”

She groaned. “Great. I knew I shouldn’t have told him anything.”

Hotch just sighed, looking at her.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think he’d say anything,” she offered as an apology.

“No, it’s okay. It’s just that…” He let out a slow breath. “He brought up something that I think I want to talk to you about. I just didn’t know how to say it.”

“Okay, what is it?” she questioned, straightening up in her chair.

“He, uh, brought up everything from last night and this morning. And he brought up how that’s not something that I would normally do. Or something you would normally do.”

“Oh. I didn’t mean to make you uncomf—”

“No, it wasn’t that. It’s just,” he paused, watching her for a second. “I need to know if you feel the same way about me that I feel about you.”

Her heart was racing and heat rose to her face. She was breathless.

“W-what?”

“I’m so sorry, I know this is inappropriate, but…”

“What are you asking?”

“I just need to know how you feel. About me.”

He looked at her, almost pleading for the answer he deeply wanted.

“I’m— I think you’re amazing. I think you’re a wonderful father, and I’ve never met someone who makes me feel the way you do,” she began in a ramble. “I didn’t want to say anything because I know you’re so out of my league, but after talking to Derek this morning, and Emily, I just… I don’t know. I want to hope.”

Hotch furrowed his brow, and Y/N took in a breath, ready for rejection.

“You think I’m out of your league?”

“I mean… Yeah?” She tilted her head. “You’re really incredible.”

He couldn’t help but smile.

“Y/N, for profilers I don’t think we’ve been very good at reading one another,” he said quietly. “I thought I was the last person you’d ever be interested in.”

“What? Why?”

“I’m a widow, I’m older than you, I have a son…”

“A son that I love. I’d do anything for that kid.”

“I know.”

He smiled again, watching her. She couldn’t help but to smile back.

“As for the other stuff, I couldn’t care less. You’re so much more than that.”

“Really?”

“Really,” she continued to smile at him. “We really are pretty dumb, huh?”

“Very, apparently,” he agreed with a nod.

She checked the time. “Lunch break is almost over. I better go.”

He nodded again. “Yeah. Talk more later?”

“Of course.”

She waved a goodbye, walking towards the door. With one hand on the handle, she felt something grip her arm and spin her around. She was met with Hotch’s lips on hers, a kiss that took her breath away. They broke apart after a minute, both smiling like giddy teenagers.

“When I tell you that’s all I could think about doing this morning…” she began.

“Me too,” he agreed, looking into her eyes as his hand stroked her cheek. “Especially when I got to wake up to you in my clothes. It was killing me.”

She giggled, leaning in for one more kiss. It was slower this time, more gentle. She backed away afterwards, just enough to be able to speak against his lips.

“I think maybe we should thank Derek and Emily.”

“And let them feel like they won?”

“Good point.”

He let her go to get back to the bullpen, but as she attempted to turn the handle of the door, she was knocked back into his chest. Of course.

“You’re welcome,” Derek said with a smile after assessing what must have just happened.

“You don’t get credit for this,” Y/N laughed.

“Mhm. But it’s totally on me,” he said, raising a brow. He started walking back out, but not before… “Don’t you two take too long in there.”

FULL MASTERLIST

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner x female reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner fic #jealous!aaron hotchner #luna's hotch fics

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fairy-writes · 7 months ago

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Hello! can you do a gen narumi x reader where the reader is also from the defense force and goes on a lot of missions, they get nightmares a lot because of the missions and gen practically begs them each day to just stop going on missions and that even if he is the only one working he makes buckets of money and the reader should just relax. The reader still refuses and goes a very tough mission. Where they get severely injured and are unconscious for days and like gen takes care of them, its super fluff/comfort. Can it please be x female reader or gender neutral. Thanks and take care<3

RUNNING AWAY FROM WHAT?

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Kaiju No. 8

Pairing(s): Narumi Gen x Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Female!Reader, Defense Force!Reader, Arguments, Injuries, Making Up

Notes: You guys love having scenarios where the reader is in the hospital.

I'm combining this with another similar request that I got in my inbox!

TW for mentions of suicide (no one is suicidal; it’s just talked about)

__________________________________________________________________________

“Where are you going?” Gen’s sleep-filled voice makes you freeze in your tracks. You look back to find him half-sitting up in bed, bags under his eyes stretching for miles. You look back to your workout clothes and shrug,

“I'm going for a run. I can’t sleep.” You say quickly and head to the genkan to put on your running shoes.

The sun hasn’t even risen yet, but you can’t shake the feeling of being watched. The sense of being watched by Kaiju. You can’t shake the cold sweat dripping down your back and temples. So, you decide exercise is the healthiest way to get the feeling off your back.

Gen scrambles to get out of bed and follow you. He doesn’t even grab his phone to check social media, so you know he’s genuinely worried. But by the time he manages to untangle himself from his blanket, you’re already laced up and opening the door.

“You had another nightmare, didn’t you?” He says, hand catching the door to keep you from opening it. You scowl at the wood but don’t say anything.

Because what could you say?

He was right, anyway.

Gen knew he was right because his grip tightened on the door as you tried to open it further.

“You did, didn’t you?” He asks, and you hunch your shoulders,

“What does it matter? I want to go for a run, so I’m going for a run.” You say, trying to keep your emotions under control even though they’re raging like a Kaiju out of hell.

Gen’s scowl deepens to match yours, but he relents.

“Fine. Whatever.” He says, lets go of the door, and sits down at the genkan to put on his shoes.

“What are you doing?” You ask, and his scowl is ever-present as he stands up and opens the door.

“I’m going with you.”

“What? Why?! Go back to bed!” You snap angrily. A combination of no sleep for the last week and your ever-present nightmares have made your temper short.

But Gen takes your snapping in stride and grabs your hand,

“I won’t be able to sleep until you’re home safe anyway. I might as well go with you.” He says with a yawn.

So that led you to where you are now, sprinting around the First Division’s track until your bones feel like jelly. Gen keeps up easily, barely breaking a sweat. Yet, he doesn’t say anything while you run. He only speaks when you slow down to stop and put your hands on your knees, breathing heavily.

“Are you done?” He asks, and your temper spikes just slightly.

“No.” You say, straightening up to take another lap.

He catches your hand and makes you stop. You look up at the sky, praying for patience that you don’t have.

“Are you trying to kill yourself then?” He grits out, and you stare dumbly at him.

What was he trying to say?

Gen notices your look and throws his hands up.

“You don’t eat, you barely sleep, you’re getting more and more reckless on missions. It’s like you’re trying to die!” His voice is nearing a shout, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Who cares if you wake up people in the dorms?

“I’m just doing my job, Gen! In case you forgot, not everyone is as strong as you!” You retort, and he scowls, knowing full well you’re just barely telling the truth. Well… You’re telling the truth about not being as strong as him. But everything else? You’re just barely surviving.

“You know you don’t have to work in the Defense Force anymore! You know I make enough money to support the both of us!” Gen argues, and you grind your teeth. This argument again?

“And you know why I won’t do that!” You snap back.

The two of you fight back and forth before Gen just gives up and leaves. You had always been the type to drag out arguments much longer than they ever needed to be. And it got on your boyfriend’s nerves every time.

You make a few more laps around the track before you’re called in for a Kaiju attack.

You open your eyes and immediately realize you’re in the hospital. If the bright ass lights didn’t give it away, the scent of antiseptic did. As did the familiar beeping of your vital signs.

You hated hospitals. You had spent your fair share of time in them and had vowed to never spend another day in one again.

Looks like you broke that promise to yourself.

The scent of antiseptic makes you sneeze, and your head pounds.

“So you’re awake.” Comes Gen’s voice, and you look to your right, where he’s staring down at his phone, typing out a text or playing some game. You honestly can’t tell which. He reaches to the side without looking and presses the button to summon the nurse to your room.

“I am. What happened?” You ask, wracking your brain for any remaining memories.

Nothing. You remembered your nightmares, running at the track, arguing with Gen, and then… Nothing.

“You got hurt. Badly. The doc wasn’t sure you’d wake up for a while.” He said, tone clipped. He was still upset. That much was obvious.

“How long was I out?” You asked. He finally set down his phone and looked you in the eye.

He looked… Awful…

The bags under his eyes were worse than usual, and you were positive his jacket was looser on him than it used to be. Had he lost weight? His skin had a slight sickly pallor, only noticeable since you were looking for it.

“Two weeks. You were put into a medically induced coma after three days to help you heal.” He said curtly, and you nodded wearily. You had been awake for not even ten minutes, and you were already exhausted.

At least, you were until you realized you couldn’t feel the bottom half of your body.

Then, the panic set in.

“Gen… I can’t feel my legs…” The panic was thick like fog in your voice, and as you tried to sit up, his hand gently pushed you down into your pillows. But you began to struggle the best you could. “ What’s going on?! Gen!”

“It’s alright.” He said, but your head whipped around to look at him, eyes wide and tears welling up.

You couldn’t be a Defense Force Officer with no feeling in your legs! You couldn’t do your job! You couldn’t save people! You couldn’t—

A hand on your face stopped your downward spiral, and you stilled, looking up into Gen’s red eyes. He offered a crooked smile that gave you a sense of comfort.

“The doctor thinks it’ll only be temporary. You’ll just be on bedrest until then.” He explains, voice softer now and more gentle. He must’ve really been worried about you to speak to you like this.

The nurse finally comes in with the doctor, and they check you over before giving you the green light to be cared for at home if you so wish. And that was something you agreed to immediately. Be stuck in the hospital for days or weeks on end when you could just sleep at home? Ha! The answer was a no-brainer.

Gen insists on wheeling you out to the curb where he then calls for Hasegawa to come pick you up. He sits next to you as you put the wheelchair brakes on and pulls out his phone again. Meanwhile, you watch the sky and think.

And think.

“Gen?” You whisper into the wind and hear him grunt in return. You look down where he’s squatting on the curb, muttering about HP and leveling up as he holds his phone sideways to play a game. You take a deep breath and hang your head. “I’m sorry.”

That gets him to stop. His game is paused, and he looks up at you with narrowed eyes.

“This some kind of joke? You never apologize.” He says, and you huff out a self-deprecating laugh.

“I know. And I’m sorry about that too. But I’m sorry for arguing. I know you only want what’s best for me in your own way. And I’m sorry—”

“Hold on. Are you breaking up with me?” He cuts you off, and you stare stupidly at your boyfriend before shaking your head.

“No! I just want to apologize for being an ass.”

He stares just as stupidly until Hasegawa shows up with a van and helps get you loaded inside.

It isn’t until you’re back at your shared apartment that Gen speaks again.

“I should apologize too… For also being an ass. I know you’re struggling, and I was just trying to help.” He mumbled, scratching at the back of his head and averting his gaze from yours. You smile, chuckle a little, and reply.

“Hasegawa put you up to this, didn’t he?”

“So what if he did?! I’m apologizing, aren’t I?!”

You begin to laugh even more, and when you finally get your giggles under control, you catch him looking at you with a lovesick look.

“Y’know… I think I might take a break from Kaiju hunting. Go to therapy for my nightmares and all that.” You say, and he grins before turning back to his game.

“I’m glad.”

#narumi gen x reader #gen narumi x reader #narumi x reader #gen x reader #kn8 x reader #kaiju no 8 x reader #kaiju no. 8 x reader #fairy writes

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