#he says “word” in response to things and then will use miffed in the next sentence
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small note but HP and nana von strangle are bitter exes btw
#head pixie#nana von strangle#fairly oddparents#fop#i do love HP... he drinks sugar free soda at business meetings to mess with people#he says improvise adapt overcome (he has to have all his papers lined up neatly in their stack or he will not leave)#he says “word” in response to things and then will use miffed in the next sentence#the fairly oddparents#pixies
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Privacy- Chris MD
You and Chris had been enjoying a private pregnancy, until now. 699 words
You and Chris were somewhat private people. Chris had learned from his previous relationship and you had a "normal" job as graphic designer. It was how you and Chris met, being called on to do some work with him, when that finished he asked you out for a drink and you couldn't resist that cheeky smile. You were scared about attracting the wrong type of attention and being accused of using connections to get work and he was scared of having to explain all over again that he was single if it didn't work out. Both of you would never let that happen however.
One year to the day after your first date and he popped the question, your engagement announcement was announced on Social Media to some confusion as you had only ever appeared on Chris's Instagram twice before and had never appeared on camera. Most people appreciated the private nature of your relationship but some people were a little bit miffed.
You decided to get married in Jersey in the hope it would be less likely to leak and you were right, photos only appeared the day after the event although ArthurTV and Harry Lewis had both almost slipped up on camera.
When those two lines came up on that test it was a no brainer to both of you that your pregnancy was going to be kept under wraps, that was until that fateful day.
"Don't be mad okay, but there's something I need to show you," Chris cried apologetically. You looked up from you book of baby names eyes furrowed slightly as you looked around the room to Arthur and George to see if they had any idea what was going on, sadly it looked like George at least had an inkling.
"Go on..." You eventually spoke placing a hand on your belly, the countdown to the big day was now in weeks instead of months and no you still didn't have names.
"I don't know how I didn't notice at the time but look..." Chris replied handing you his phone. You didn't need to see anything else your stomach dropped when, on Reddit was a photo of you and Chris earlier that day exciting from the tube, bump on full display for everyone to see.
"Maybe it's not as bad as you think, maybe people will think you're just bloated?" Arthur, oh sweet little Arthur tried to cheer you up but he was just saying the wrong thing.
"Arthur, I'm almost eight months pregnant with twins there is no way people will think this is anything but a baby bump," you replied. Your voice was a little stern but you weren't shouting, it wasn't Arthurs fault.
"Are there any comments?" George asked as he peered over your shoulder.
"Three hundred and fifty seven," you sighed handing Chris back his phone, you didn't want to read them.
"What did you want to do?" Chris asked finally walking round the side of the sofa and sitting next to you, you rested your head on his shoulder before sighing again.
"There's only one thing we can do," you replied looking at him, he kissed your head gently and nodded, understanding what you both had to do.
"Are you sure?" Chris asked you for the tenth time and you nodded. You had both taken a photo of you and him, you're standing sideways on, hand on your belly while Chris is next to you pointing at out, both with opened mouthed smiles.
"Let's do it," you replied knowing the truth was already out there, you still weren't going to give details so you were keeping things as private as you could in the circumstances.
Chris read out the caption to you one more time.
"The secret is out, we're about to become parents soon so might be going quite for a bit, we would ask for some space and privacy as we navigate parenthood for the first time."
"Perfect," you smiled as he nodded and pressed the button.
"I can't wait for their reaction when we announce the twins," Chris smiled. You giggled a response and placed your arms around him.
"I love you."
"I love you too."
I have terrible writers block at the moment and would love some ideas!
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December 4th, 1924
My dear Mr. Chambers,
Where in the world are you today? Have you fled Europe yet? Not that the continent is a place that needs to be fled from these days, but if the papers are anything to go by, this year hasn’t exactly been uneventful over there. What a mess we all made of things. I still can’t claim to understand why you wanted to go back there in the first place, but I have been enjoying the postcards. And I will admit some envy over getting to see the Games of the Olympiad. Your letter about it only just arrived, postmarked from Czechoslovakia of all places. I can’t tell if you just failed to send it from France over the summer, or if you didn’t write it until well after.
You’re usually good about dating your letters. You’re usually very good about writing them. But you’ve been across the sea for a year now and I have a paltry stack of missives on my desk. Then again, you haven’t received many from me, though I refuse to take full responsibility for that. You’re a hard man to track down, Charles Chambers, and you haven’t left me an address to write back to in four months. Three whole letters, two postcards, and, I imagine, several countries ago. Which means this, like many others, will most likely go unsent by me and unread by you.
I suppose that provides me a venue in which to be more honest than I typically am. Not that I’ve ever held back my mind in your presence. One of us has to say what he’s truly thinking and it’s never going to be you. I’m not sure why I’m bothering with the ritual of writing to you at all, but I'm about to open a new show and usually I’d be sending you an invitation. That’s never been a guarantee that you’d come, but the hand would be outstretched as it always is.
I think I’m quite miffed with you. You left the country with hardly any word. Simply a letter from London, three weeks after you’d already vacated the city, saying that you were going wandering for an unknown amount of time. Not a particularly typical move of Charles Chambers. And even less characteristic is the lack of plan you seem to have. I don’t think you’d keep your next destination from me on purpose—or, at least, I can’t think of a reason why you wouldn’t want me to know where you’re going, to give me some indication of where to send correspondence—which means that you have little idea of your next stop on your Grand Tour. Why the aimless traveling, Charles? For what purpose are you circling the globe with no map?
It isn’t that I don’t have plenty to entertain me. The theater is booming and bustling, the money and interest pouring in faster than I can mount new productions. And I can hardly keep up with every new musical act that’s playing in the jazz clubs. The talent is astounding. I’ve even taken myself to a moving picture twice this year and still find the whole thing as charming as I did when we saw that one picture last year. My parties have gone from delightful affairs to gatherings of legend and sometimes I wonder if this is what we fought the war for. So that life could be only this from now on—art and music and laughter and sparkling champagne poured by bold women in sparkling dresses. I’m not sure if it’s a fair bargain, all told, but it is one of which I’m happy to be on the other side.
I won’t say that I miss your company. We both know that you’re hardly wonderful company on the best of days and I know you don’t hold the same joie de vivre for the frivolity of our present moment. But I don’t enjoy not knowing where you are. I feel off balance hearing from you so infrequently. I find myself wondering what it is you’re doing at random times throughout the day and wishing I could tell you how I’m spending my days.
The harsh reality is, Charles, that you are the person on this earth who knows me best. And that’s been the case for some years, but in your absence that fact has begun to sink into my mind in new and terrifying ways. I don’t want to be reliant on your understanding.
There isn’t any point to finishing this letter in its usual manner. It’s simply going to be shoved into a drawer along with the rest.
[a letter never sent by J.S. Fogg]
[to read the pre-1917 entries, join Atypical Artists and get access to the archive of 24 entries (5,000+ words), as well as ad-free episodes of Atypical's whole catalogue. to receive future monthly missives straight to your inbox, sign up for free here]
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Blood Apricots
Astarion and Fiona don't know how to communicate and things turn awkward, but maybe it's for the better?
Pairing - Astarion x Fem!Durge (named Fiona, not super descriptive about her appearance, if at all)
Rating - Mature
Warnings - 18+, Sexual content, Fluff, Angst
Word Count - 2,2k
Author's note - Heyy, so this is the first piece of fanfiction that I've ever written. As I said on Ao3, I don't really know what I'm doing, but I wanted to try and write something, because apparently this game just has that much of a hold on me.
Also, any critique would be appreciated, like is my grammar way off, or do I make the characters far too ooc (Astarion in this case).
Anyways thank you for your time!! <3
Ao3
Fiona groaned, a low strained sound escaping her lips.
She was out of breath, her head was throbbing, and her throat felt dry. Had she not already been lying down then surely she would have passed out by now.
She was trying to enjoy the pale elf’s ministrations, she really was, but her body didn’t seem to agree with her wants, all tense, and no pleasure.
Earlier that evening at camp Astarion had proposed that she come to his tent. He had put on his best act too, using all of his best lines just for her. And she, always eager for his attention, had played along. She did, after all, find herself entertained by his sense for the dramatics, though she couldn’t deny that she had been a little hurt by his insincere usage of the sentence, “I love you.” which he had so easily laughed off. But if this was how she could get close to him then so be it.
Gods only knew how badly she wanted to be held by him, to have his approval.
And so, just like their first time together, she had bared her neck to him, assuming that he would just take a quick sip. But this time, much like the first time he had drunk her blood, he had gotten carried away, and so she hadn’t been able to focus on, nor enjoy the physical intimacy that he had offered to her.
Thus, in an attempt at gaining pleasure, Fiona without thinking, had tensed up her body, desperately following Astarion’s lead, focusing so hard on the sex that she had forgotten to relax, causing her heart rate to rise. That mixed with the excessive blood loss had however done little good for the experience.
So now she felt like…well she felt terrible, like shit, probably looked the part too. All she could feel was an aching sensation in her head while her heart hammered away.
“Could we stop?” Fiona breathed as she stopped mimicking the rhythm that Astarion had set.
No response.
His gaze seemed to be miles away.
“Astarion, can we stop?” she tried again this time a little firmer. She put her now clammy hand on his arm trying to coax him out of whatever had taken his attention.
Then finally he looked down at her, “Hm…what…Of course.”
He had lost his composure for just a second, not expecting her to want him to stop, but as always, he was fast to regain it, quickly putting on a sultry smile.
“What’s the matter darling, not enjoying yourself?” he purred at her with an almost sing-song quality to his voice. But as he got a better look at her he paused. Apparently, he hadn’t been able to pick up on her discomfort before now. He really must have been miles away then.
“Hells Fiona you look like…well you look like shit.” he remarked, brows now furrowed together in mild concern, “You’re practically shaking all over. Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”.
Astarion quickly slid himself out of her, lifting his weight off her, allowing her to relax more easily.
He looked utterly miffed as he sat down next to her, brows knitted together with concern, and Fiona didn’t know what to say. She felt bad, embarrassed even. She felt like she had ruined what could have been a perfectly good night, and gods knew that they needed it with everything that was going on around them. She needed it.
But it wasn’t her fault. He was the one who hadn’t been able to control himself while drinking from her, but then again, she hadn’t been able to say stop before just now, and she hadn’t even really wanted to say stop. She didn’t want him to stop touching her. She was so touch starved that she would take anything that he had to offer, and currently that either seemed to be nightly bloodlettings or sex.
Anything to have him cup her face, or stroke her arm, to have him close enough for her to breathe him in, but she could surely not explain that to him. Such thoughts were simply far too fluffy for him to possibly take seriously, if anything he’d just tease her for it, she certainly knew that.
So instead, she just apologized.
“Sorry, I should have said something sooner” Fiona tried, the dryness of her throat making the words sound weaker than she had intended, but perhaps that had worked in her favour as Astarion’s features softened – he almost, almost, looked like he was taking pity on her. She could work with that.
“I just didn’t want to ruin the mood” Fiona continued her eyes wide and pleading, this time trying to take advantage of her sorry state, hoping that it would soften him up further.
“Well, aren't you just considerate? Keeping your miseries all to yourself.” Astarion tutted. He wasn’t buying it, “You certainly managed to do that just fine anyhow.”
Right. He wasn’t going to give in to her.
Fiona sighed, a mixture of frustration and embarrassment as Astarion’s sarcasm sliced right through her feeble attempt at gaining his pity. She knew that she wasn’t going to get much sympathy from him so she might as well save the last bit of her dignity and leave his tent. Besides this sordid headache wasn’t going to take care of itself.
“Sorry. We should probably just call it a night then” Fiona sighed, sitting up reaching for her chemise so that she could regain her last bit of modesty, and leave the situation for good, only for the little blood that she had to rush out of her head. Everything started to spin as though the world was crashing down on her. Black spots began dancing in her vision and she gritted her teeth feeling like her head could split open at any moment. Gods it hurt, and gods she felt stupid. Probably looked stupid too. Astarion was probably not going to get anywhere near her after this. The thought only made her all the more desperate to get out of there, but she couldn’t see for the spots, and she couldn’t find her chemise, and she was starting to panic, causing her to become short of breath which only made her panic more. “Shit shit shit.” she muttered under her breath as she fumbled around. This was pathetic.
And she truly must have been a sorry sight, for the next moment she felt Astarion’s cold hands on her shoulders, pushing her to lie back down on the bedroll, “Don’t be silly now dear, I was only teasing.” he began as he handed her her chemise, “I’m obviously not going to let you stumble around out there. Besides, you'd probably just trip and bash that pretty head of yours before you even reach your bedroll, and then where would we be?”
He still sounded somewhat displeased, but Fiona sensed something softer to his tone now. So maybe he was concerned for her after all?
“I’m sorry. I probably seem like such a fool.” Fiona sighed, her voice a little shaky. At this point she just felt like crying, but she had already put on enough of a show, so she did her best to avoid Astarion’s ever-analysing stare as to not let him set her over the edge.
“Well yes, you certainly do,” Astarion laughed, then huffing as if not sure about whether he should continue, “but I do find that rather charming about you, you know.” he finally said, his voice now soft without a hint of sarcasm.
“That I’m a fool?” Fiona said, not sure that she understood what could be so charming about that.
“No,” Astarion laughed, “but you’re so responsive. I can so easily tease you. It’s endearing.” Fiona felt his cold hand swiping a stray hair away from her face urging her to finally look up at him, “However I shouldn’t have teased you just now…” Astarion trailed off.
It was a tender face that she was met by. Red eyes looking at her, not through her, not looking at her like they wanted something from her. For the first time she felt seen by him. So this was what a genuine compliment from the vampire sounded like. She felt like she could get drunk on his words, just from the soft tone alone. He found her endearing. She was endearing.
“Besides,” Astarion continued, shifting his gaze away from her, brows furrowing slightly as though he realized that he had been vulnerable, “were it not for me you wouldn’t be in such a sorry state to begin with, so I’d be a poor bed mate to let you go out like that.”
It was barely an apology, but Fiona still appreciated it, and she was far too dizzy to tease him for it anyhow, so she just smiled weakly up at him.
But her silent appreciation didn’t seem to please him as he looked back at her with an air of mild impatience if not annoyance, she couldn’t quite tell, but the silence was seemingly too intimate for him as he shifted uncomfortably before clearing his throat, “Right well can I get you anything?” he asked.
Now feeling more composed, Fiona carefully sat up again so that she could slip her chemise back on, the cool fabric soothing her clammy skin. The world had finally stopped spinning, but her throat was still dry and her head still throbbing. “Some water would be nice.” she said sweetly, still smiling at him.
“Right then.”
With practiced ease Astarion swiftly put on his briefs and trousers before making his way out of the tent, leaving Fiona to herself, and as the tent flap closed she laid back down, doing her best to relax on the bedroll.
Perhaps the situation hadn’t been so terrible after all. Of course, she could have done without the awkward sex and the splitting headache. But, Astarion cared, in some way at least. He had shown that exact softness which Fiona so desperately yearned for, but that she so rarely got to witness from him.
She wondered what it was about her that made him care, what it was about her that had made him approach her in the first place. In fact, at first she had thought that he disliked her, with him constantly criticizing her for being too nice, criticizing her for constantly stopping to help other ‘ragtags’, claiming that it would only slow them down. And yet he had still approached her during the party with the tieflings, inviting her to have sex with him. But why? What did he see in her? Besides the fact that he found her endearing, what about her attracted him? Had her ‘niceness’ somehow still managed to captivate him? Well, she certainly wasn’t going to stop being nice, that was for sure. Being good was the only thing she could do to make up for those vile, disgusting, sadistic thoughts that haunted her mind.
No.
No, she would not think of that. Not tonight. Not when she had been doing so well for the last couple of days.
Fiona took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. This was why she preferred not thinking when she was by herself, even if it was just for a moment. It didn’t do her any good.
Even though he had only been away for a moment, Fiona was relieved when Astarion finally returned to the tent again.
With him he brought a waterskin as well as a small pouch, both of which he handed to her, “This should suffice.” he quipped as he settled down next to her.
“Thank you” Fionna murmured softly propping herself up before taking a sip of water, the cool liquid instantly soothing her throat. Curious about the extra item that he had brought for her, she opened the pouch.
Dried apricots?
Why had he brought apricots for her? She wasn't particularly hungry, quite the opposite if she had to be honest, her current condition doing little for her appetite.
Her befuddlement must have been apparent on her face because Astarion promptly explained “Sugar is good for the blood darling. It will help alleviate your headache.”
“Oh” Fiona muttered, slightly taken aback by the unexpected thoughtfulness behind the fruit. She took a piece of apricot to nibble on. It was sweet and tart, the flavour bringing warmth to her cheeks – or perhaps it was the gesture behind the fruit. Nonetheless she took another one.
This was nice. Being in the presence of Astarion in comfortable silence and enjoying something as simple as fruit. He also didn’t seem to mind the silence now, contently watching her as she ate. And there it was again, that look in his eyes again, like he was seeing her.
“Feeling better?” he asked.
“Mhm” Fiona hummed as she used the back of her hand to wipe the last bit of sweetness from her lips.
“Then I suggest that you get some rest.” Astarion said, urging her to lie down.
Fiona settled down on the bedroll making herself comfortable with a blanket. She looked up at him for a bit, feeling happy and content in his presence. Tonight, she had realized that there was something more to the sharp-tongued elf than his usual sarcastic demeanour, something that he wasn’t eager to let out, but he had shown to her anyways.
She enjoyed the joking, the sarcasm, and the sex, of course she did, but maybe their relationship could be more than those things.
She wasn’t quite sure yet, having no knowledge of what a relationship based on attraction was supposed to look like, as she had no memories to pull such knowledge from.
But this…this could be nice.
#my own personal trash#text#fanfiction#Astarion#Tav#Durge#Dark Urge#Astarion x tav#Astarion x Durge#Astarion x Dark Urge#Baldur's Gate 3#BG3#already posted this on Ao3 back in October#but ive been real slow about setting up this blog#so im first posting it here now#my writing#nsft
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Con Man's Daughter
Posting this because there isn't enough biodad! John Constantine content.
[Masterlist]
(Part 2)
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I feel like this should be a Damianette story or just platonic relationship after Jon got aged-up to seventeen and Damian wanted a friend his age but doesn’t want to admit it.
So basically there is this big bad in Gotham using magic that Batman was fighting at the time and enlisted John Constantine to help out.
John realizes that the villain is using a Miraculous.
“Oh. I think I know how he gets his powers. And lucky for you, Bats, I know an expert on this special brand of magic.”
And he did the smart thing and called up Marinette who at the time was already Guardian and was looking for other lost Miraculouses like in the Treasure Hunter AU I wrote.
He calls her at a really bad time. She was in the process of being chased by the guardians of the place. Monsters and evil spirits.
“Hello, Dad. What do you need and can you do it quickly?”
“Hey, sweetheart, it’s me. How is my little cupcake up to these days?”
“You called at a bad time.” Gunshots.
“WAS THAT A GUN I HEARD? WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU, YOUNG LADY?!”
“Somewhere in Japan. Getting a Miraculous. And why can’t you call me to check in on me and not ask me to help you with whatever mess you got yourself into.” More gunshots sounds and it was telling that Marinette was using a gun.
“Where did you get a gun? And don’t you have school?”
“It’s summer break. Don’t worry Maman and Papa know. Well, the fact that I am in Japan anyways.” Marinette sounded a little out of breath. Roaring and horrifying sounds at the other end. “Can we do this later?”
“As it happens, there is a villain going around Gotham with what I think is a Miraculous.”
Swears on the other end.
“Oi. Watch your fucking language, young lady.”
“How about a No and move the fuck back, old man. I am coming over right now.”
“Old man? I am not that old-” as a magic blue portal opens up in the Bat Cave.
And a red Chinese dragon comes out with someone riding it.
Its rider was a black-haired girl. She had a trench coat similar to Constantine's. I imagine her with a fedora. Like Carmen Sandiego style but not red. Sometimes red but only when she has to steal it from a museum or high security places and she leaves a name card with the name Carmen Sandiego. A sword strapped to her back and a dagger to her thigh.
She had a gun in her hand which she used to shoot the monsters as it was halfway through the portal and yelled out the spell to close it.
“Brilliant entrance but you are in lots of trouble, little lady. What were you thinking about going to another country unsupervised? And isn’t there still a butterfly problem in Paris?”
“One, I wasn’t unsupervised. I had Tikki, a billion years old being and a sort of god. Two.Well, it got boring trying to track Hawk-bitch down. And I found this legend about a guy with a Miraculous who disappeared in the temple and thought hey, more miraculous could mean another edge to defeating Moth-man.”
More bickering and John grounding Marinette who was acting very nonchalant about it.
Okay, at this point, I should say that Batman and Robin are in the background trying to make some sense.
Batman is surprised to find out that Constantine has a daughter who is also involved in magic like her Father but an apparently more specialised kind called the Miraculous. He is a little miffed that he didn’t know about John having a daughter. He did consider it weird at first that she had a slight french accent unlike her father’s Liverpool accent although she pronounced some words like he does.
He also connected some dots that she is also the Parisian heroine, Lady Rouge who Wonder Woman introduced to the League a while back and had declined to join the Young Justice or Teen Titans until everything in Paris was resolved.
Damian on the other hand was suspicious of the new arrival and came to the same conclusion as his father about the daughter thing.
Batman after a few minutes, clears his throat.
The Constantines stop arguing.
“Bonjour. Batman. Robin. Pleasure to meet you. I am Mari Constantine and yes, I am this homeless looking man’s brilliant daughter.” “Hey”
“Well, Mari. Your father thinks you can help us with this new criminal turning Gotham upside down. Literally in some cases. He said that you might be able to help us.” Batman said as he pulled up zoomed in picture of the Miraculous.
Mari looks through the Miraculous grimoire and tells them all about it and power-ups, basically the most effective thing to defeat the guy is to get the Miraculous off them. Plus a spell that would make the Miraculous ineffective if casted within a certain radius of it.
“Thank you for the information, Mari. Constantine, let’s go.”
Mari made to follow them.
“You young lady are grounded and staying here.”
“I don’t need another supervillain using the Miraculous which are my responsibility as Guardian to retrieve them for their own misuse and wreaking havoc on the city. And what if there is an akuma in Paris? I can’t go there if I am grounded in the Batcave although it is a cool place to hang out.”
“You can portal back to Paris but you are not going to follow me. Understood?”
“yes. crystal”
“Good. After me and Batsy get the Miraculous, you can do your Guardian duties.”
Damian snickers. Until Batman cut his mood short, “You are staying behind too. Robin.”
“But Father, why? I am much more capable than Constantine.”
“Hey!” Both father and daughter.
Damian is staying behind too because of the Miraculous power or other reasons and keeps an eye on Mari.
Damian stays behind and there were some protests about mari mad about having a babysitter and Damian doesn’t want to be a babysitter. Despite the two of them being around the same age.
“I got an eye on you so no funny business.”
“Okay, Dad, I am not going to have sex with Robin.” Mari said with a shit- eating grin. Robin definitely didn’t blush.
“I hate you sometimes.”
“I love you too, Dad. Go save the world. Byee.”
John eyes her suspiciously because she is not one to give up that easily usually.
He casts a spell to watch her as they leave. and which she totally knew about.
“So...I have one question.”
“Tt, ask and don’t bother me anymore.”
“Is Batman Bruce Wayne?”
Damian looks up, totally caught off guard.
“I am going to take that as a yes.”
Puts sword at her neck. “How did you find out?!”
“Opened up Google Maps and saw that we are under Wayne Manor. Connected the dots. Also I already knew when Dad made a bet with me once to find out Batman’s secret identity but he never did confirm it for me. And can you please not tell your father about this? I don’t feel like being interrogated by the Bat in the future yet.”
“Father must know about this.”
“I saw you looking at Scarlet here. An animal lover then? You can give her some belly rubs. She deserves it after helping me outrun those monsters.”
His silence was brought. To pet a dragon.
One thing after another and he ends up bringing out his pets-Jerry the turkey, Goliath the dragon-bat, Titus- and her introducing him to her other pets like a hellhound, griffin and other mythical creatures who mostly roam free but come to her when she calls for them and also the kwamis, at least the ones who came with her.
After 30 mins have passed, “So Robin how do you feel about disobeying our fathers?”
“I am in.”
“Depends. Are we going after the (villain's name) ?”
“Yes.”
Awesome montage of them getting rid of the spell John casted and flying out of the Batcave on their respective giant flying pets to the villain’s base.
Meanwhile, their fathers are not doing so well and are trapped in a death trap. John can’t say the spell because the villain made him unable to talk.
“At least, the kids are staying put.”
Cut to Damian and Mari jumping off their pets and onto the roof. Taking out the guards posted there and going into the building all sneakily and also taking out the guards that come their way.
They dropped into the room where their fathers and the villain is.
“Why am I not surprised?”
Villain starts an evil monologue about his mastermind plan to which Damian cuts it short by trying to cut him down with his katana. Mari goes to deactivate the death trap.
They are evenly matched with Damian’s training and the Miraculous.
Mari steps in as Damian was about to be killed. Taps on the shoulder of the villain and when he turns around, gives an awesome right hook that knocks him out.
Takes away the Miraculous and curses him. Wiped the dude’s memories of it.
“When I said stay in the Batcave, I meant stay behind at the Batcave. What point of being grounded, don’t you understand?”
“You mean, Oh, Mari, light of my life, my wonderful daughter, thank you for saving my ass. You are the best.’ by that, right?”
-----
Mari and Damian exchanged numbers and email addresses.
As she was about to leave the Batcave, “It’s been nice meeting you, Mr. Wayne.” and leaves with a wink.
John ‘ungrounds’ her for the look on Batman’s face.
-----
After this, Marinette and Damian become friends who bitch and vent to each other about their alter egos and various villains of their respective cities. (In codes, just in case) They also share updates about their pets and love of drawings.
They have that type of friendship where they trade favors. Mari calls Damian to Paris sometimes to help out with the akuma of the day and Damian sometimes calls her in when Bruce doesn’t let him go investigate a case so he can sneak out by magical means or as back up for when his brothers were too annoying to deal with.
It’s summer break so no missing school.
John and Bruce are aware of their friendship and some of the shenanigans the pair gets into behind their back.
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Right. how this all started...
John and Sabine first met when the latter was still in college somewhere in France. John was tracking down a demonic entity which was targeting Sabine for some reason and she was the next target.
John saved her life and exorcised the demon. There was a heat of the moment thing and they had a one-night stand. There were a few more flings and hook-ups after that night.
And nine months later, Marinette Cheryl Cheng-Constantine was born.
When Sabine first found out, she called John to come over and he thought that it was a call for another hook-up and was very surprised to find out that it was not and that he was going to be a father.
They both like each other but do not want to be in a relationship together so they both remained as friends and John agreed after some strong-arming at the very least to meet his daughter before he goes to do his job. And pay for child support. And help Sabine during her pregnancy.
Pregnant Sabine was someone you don’t want to mess with. And John has never met a demon or anyone scarier than her.
He was at first not into meeting his child and there was a self-pity party he threw himself with how the child was going to live a bad life because he was the dad and how he destroyed every good thing in his life.
That’s why he is going to meet the baby once and leave maybe a letter and the occasional birthday present and stay out of their life. Forever.
The day Marinette was born and it took one look into her eyes for the HellBlazer to fall under the spell and all of his plans to stay out of her life to burn away.
At first, he tried. He really tried but he couldn’t do it.
Lasted 4 months before he came back, wanting to place protection spells on her and sigils around the house to keep away the forces of Heaven and Hell and other entities so they won’t use her against him as a bargaining chip.
Sabine calls him to babysit. He could have refused and Sabine would have easily found a babysitter. He moans and whines about how he is a great mage and not a bloody babysitter. Sabine retorts that it is actually called parenting since he is Marinette’s father. He grumbles but in the end, agrees.
The great John Constantine is wrapped around the little girl’s finger.
He was around for some of Marinette’s firsts. Her first word was “John”.
It made him cry. He wasn’t a good man and he doesn’t deserve someone this precious. His daughter doesn’t deserve someone like him as a father but fate made it that way and what can you do about it.
After an exhausting week of doing the usual and coming back from Hell, he saw that Sabine had sent him a video. It was Marinette taking her first steps.
Chas swears that in all the years that he has known John Constantine he has never seen the man look so happy.
------
When Tom came into the picture, John was there to take care of a toddler Marinette while Tom and Sabine went on dates.
Insert John threatening a much bigger Tom while holding a baby Marinette with wide eyes and hugging a teddy bear with the same coat as John’s. (It was something Sabine brought on a whim and to tease John when he came around.)
Tom is supportive and treats Marinette like his own flesh and blood.
John resolved to leave for good now that Tom would be there to be a father figure for Marinette.
That plan fell into the drain the moment he was going to leave for what was supposed to be the last time before Sabine pulled him back and knocked some sense into him.
His face was a big giveaway. Sabine knows that despite his claims of being a terrible father for Marinette, he was a good one and damnit she was going to make sure that Marinette would get to know her actual father.
Tom later made an awkward talk with John about how he was not going to replace John’s role as Marinette’s father.
Marinette was the flower girl at Tom and Sabine’s wedding. John was there too.
During bedtime, John would read her stories and use his magic to make it come to life. Although he would feel a little drained afterwards, it was worth it to see her smile.
Sometimes he told stories about his tamer adventures. (After cutting out some of the inappropriate bits)
------
When Marinette was about 5 or 6, Sabine was out on an errand and Tom was at home with Mari and helping her with her homework. There was a crash downstairs at the bakery. Tom went down to check it out to find John lying on the ground.
With a weak cough, he said, “Close the door. Close it.” Before losing consciousness
Tom did before a man with pitch black eyes slammed against it.
Thankfully John had installed heavy wards around the bakery when it first opened.
They held against the demon on John’s tail. Tom brought John inside and unsure of what to do, grabbed a rolling pin on the counter.
The man outside started pounding on the glass door and every time his hands touched the door, light glowed outwards, showing the invisible magic barrier around the bakery. Sparks and steams fizzled with every pound.
Despite the reddening and burns of his hands, the not-human didn’t slow down.
“ʝօɦռ....ʏօʊ ӄռօա ȶɦǟȶ ɨȶ'ֆ օռʟʏ ǟ ʍǟȶȶɛʀ օʄ ȶɨʍɛ ɮɛʄօʀɛ ɨ ɮʀɛǟӄ ȶɦʀօʊɢɦ ȶɦɛֆɛ աǟʀɖֆ. օռƈɛ ɨ ɢɛȶ ʏօʊ,” He laughs, the sound sends chills down the large man’s spine, “ȶɦɛʀɛ ǟʀɛ ֆօ ʍǟռʏ ȶɦɨռɢֆ ɨ ɦǟʋɛ քʟǟռռɛɖ ʄօʀ ʏօʊ.”
Tom knew that Marinette’s father was a con man. Come on, Master and Practitioner of the Dark Arts and Occult. But he was a good father nonetheless despite all his flaws and Sabine liked him enough so that was good enough for him.
Before today, magic was just the sleight of hands and use of fancy tools to sell the illusions. Now, with a could-be-a-demon knocking on his door to get to the father of the girl he sees as his daughter, he’s not so sure.
“Tom? Qu'est-ce qui se passe? (What’s going on?)” A little voice came from the stairs, “Dad!” Marinette padded across the floor to the body of her passed out father.
She shook him awake and there were a few soft slaps to the face.
“Dad, what’s happened?”
John mumbles, “Demon…. possessing some rich guy….. Exorcism…. Doesn’t like me very much…Don’t worry...wards going to hold.”
John manages to stand before falling down and Tom catches him before he hits the floor. He has a concussion. Tom turns to Marinette, “Go, Hide and don’t come out until It’s safe.” which she did
Unfortunately, a while later, Sabine returns from her night out and the demon upon seeing Sabine. “ɛӼƈɛʟʟɛռȶ..”
The demon possessed Sabine and the previously possessed dude hit the sidewalk with a thud.
“ɨռȶɛʀɛֆȶɨռɢ....” The voice coming out of Sabine didn’t sound like her mother which scared Marinette a lot. “օքɛռ ȶɦɨֆ ɖօօʀ օʀ,”the demon pulled a knife out of thin air, ,“ȶɦɨֆ ɮօɖʏ ɢɛȶֆ ɨȶ.”
Tom hesitated until the demon put the knife on Sabine’s neck and put enough force for a thin line of blood to be shown.
He opens the door and the demon knocks him out. Stepping over his unconscious body and looking down on it, “ʄօʀ ȶɦǟȶ, ɨ ǟʍ ɢօɨռɢ ȶօ ʟɛȶ ʏօʊ ʟɨʋɛ ʊռȶɨʟ ɨ ǟʍ ɖօռɛ աɨȶɦ ʝօɦռ, օʄ ƈօʊʀֆɛ.” and cackles. The sound was so wrong and unnerving and little Marinette tried very hard for her sobs not to be heard.
Too bad the demon had super hearing. “Come out, my little blossom. Maman is home. Why don’t you come out and give me a hug?”
It sounded so much like her mother and she nearly believed that it was her mother and not some entity in control of her body.
But she knew better from John’s stories of dealing with demons and how they would use the voice of loved ones to lure them out and into a trap. (Definitely not something one should tell as a bedtime story but Marinette was very different and had an unconventional childhood with John Constantine as her father.)
Wait...she got struck with an idea but she wasn’t sure if it would work.
Before she could do anything, the door of the cabinet she was hiding in was opened and she was dragged out.
The demon lifted her a few feet above the ground by the collar of her dress.
It heard Marinette saying something. “աɦǟȶ ǟʀɛ ʏօʊ ֆǟʏɨռɢ ƈɦɨʟɖ, ֆքɛǟӄ ʟօʊɖɛʀ?”
“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica.” Marinette was now screaming the words at the top of her lungs. She repeated the spell over and over again with fierce determination.
John, being his paranoid self, taught her the spell for an exorcism, just in case. Demons spared no one, not even a girl.
It screamed “NO….” as Sabine’s body contorted in strange angles before a dark shadow seemed to be dragged down into the ground. It made a desperate attempt to possess John before it was pulled away and disappeared. There was no sign that there was a demon attack.
After John woke up, he managed to piece together that his 5-years-old (Sorry 5 and a half) daughter sent a demon back to hell.
He was a very proud dad. (He was a tad worried about the consequences from this event and demons hold one hell of a grudge. He wanted his daughter to live a very safe and happy life. The bakery’s wards also need an upgrade.)
He also got the job of explaining what he actually did to Tom. And lots of reassuring.
Sabine, on one hand, was not happy that Marinette knew how to do magic. That is until John told her that he did it just in case so she can protect herself and later it was agreed that Marinette can learn some Magic spells and charms to better protect herself and when she is older, she can decide if she wants to continue or not.
----
(Part 2)
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Hardly Burglar Material - Bilbo Baggins
Requested by: @donniethescienceguy
Helloooooooo! Can I have a Bilbo x hobbit wife reader where after Thorin insults him (in the beginning when he arrives) she defends him and Thorins like: are you sure it’s the male Baggins we want?
I mean, I still did as what was requested but man, did I not know where tf this was going lmao
I followed quite a bit of the manuscript of the film, the only alteration is when reader confronts Thorin
Warnings: Nothing really. Asshole Thorin. Terrible writing lmao.
Words: 1,796
Pairings: Bilbo Baggins x Reader (female reader) (wife!reader)
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You hadn’t expected your quiet evening meal with your husband to be interrupted but when a dwarf, a big, burly, tattooed, balding, towering one at that knocks your door, there certainly isn’t much you can do.
After the dwarf, who introduced himself as Dwalin, had entered your home and devoured your husbands fish dinner, to which you offered Bilbo your own meal, more and more knocks sounded at the door, each one miffing your husband further and further until he had finally had enough.
“There’s nobody home!” he shouted as another sound came from the front door, arms holding up the abundance of weapons the two brothers’, Fíli and Kíli, loaded on to him.
You felt terrible, watching as your husband becomes frustrated, not knowing what to do other than spectate in concern.
He tossed the items down out of his arms as he stormed towards the door, shouting at whoever was on the other side. “Go away and bother somebody else! There are far too many dwarves in my dining room as it is.”
Bilbo closes in on the door. “I-I-If this is some plotheads idea of a joke,” he laughed in disbelief before grasping the door handle in his hand. “I can only say, it is in very poor taste.”
With that, he pulled the door open and in comes tumbling through the doorway a cluster of dwarves, all grumbling and whining at the other to get off of them. Bilbo and yourself, who stood a few steps behind, looked down at the mess of moving bodies on the floor before his feet, dumbfounded expressions on both of your faces.
Movement behind the pile up caught both yours and Bilbos’ attention, and once the tall figure bent down ever so slightly to reveal himself, your face twisted into that of utter confusion as your husband sighs in exasperation.
“Gandalf.”
_______________
Although you were concerned for your husband, you couldn’t help but find the whole situation quite amusing. You found some of the dwarven folk that had invaded your shared home to be quite a fun, entertaining bunch.
Of course, you were concerned about the possessions within your home, hoping that the dwarves leave your home relatively untouched and that your husband wouldn’t have some sort of mental breakdown.
Your uninvited guests had pillaged the pantry of its food. The race of dwarves certainly did have quite an appetite. Even Gandalf had nibbled on quite a bit of food.
The rowdiness of the dwarves had calmed slightly, if only for moment when they downed whatever drink they had. Even the ridiculous and frankly disgusting belching afterwards was calmer than their initial arrival.
Yet that was quickly replaced with plates, platers, knives, forks, and spoons were tossed from one dwarf to another as they sang a merry tune. Bilbo was quick with demanding caution and for things to be put down. Even you were slightly worried for your kitchen utensils.
The dwarves released hearty laughter when you and Bilbo peered into the kitchen and had seen that everything was clean and stacked, Gandalf chuckling along with them as both you and Bilbo simultaneously release sighs of relief.
Then, the atmosphere became tense as three, loud knocks sound at your front door for a final time that night.
The laughter died out instantly and Gandalf spoke quite ominously. “He’s here.”
_______________
You couldn’t really pinpoint what exactly was unsettled you so much when it came to the dark-haired dwarf who sat at the head of the table. Maybe his stature. Possibly his stoic expression.
Most likely the look behind his eyes.
Well, you certainly didn’t like him all that much whenever he addressed your husband.
Most of the conversation between the dwarves and Gandalf became muffled when reaching your ears, certainly seeing no point in listening in on their talk. The second your husbands voice rang out through the room though had piqued your interest and your attention was brought to the conversation.
They spoke of The Lonely Mountain, the dragon Smaug, how they were on a quest to reclaim their home. Gandalf had produced not only a map of some forts but a key, a key the dwarves seemed to become quite excited about.
You also happened to admire the young dwarfs’ courage. Ori.
Then, the topic of a burglar arrived.
“That’s why we need a burglar,” Ori spoke.
“Hmm, and a good one too. An expert I’d imagine.” Bilbo moves back from peering down at the map, holding on to his suspenders.
“And are you?”
Bilbo glances around to behind him before looking towards the dwarves once more. “Am I what?”
“He said he’s an expert!” Oin spoke cheerily. Of course, the dwarf with the horn to aid his hearing would say as such.
“Me? No, no, no, no, no,” your husband started, eyes darting to each dwarf, hoping his point would get across. “I’m not a burglar. I’ve never stolen a thing in my life.”
You nodded your head in agreement. As much as you love your husband, he is quite the stickler for following rules.
“I’m afraid I have to agree with Mister Baggins,” Balin was next to speak. “He’s hardly burglar material.”
You supressed a chuckle as Bilbo, although relieved that someone agreed, looked the tiniest bit offended.
The group of dwarves began to chatter and raise in volume, no words could actually be comprehended by yourself, it all a jumble of noises. Then Gandalf raised out of the seat slightly, his voice booming over the racket the dwarves created.
“ENOUGH! IF I SAY BILBO BAGGINS IS A BURGLAR,” he lowered his voice with each following word. “Then a burglar he is.” Bilbo looked as if he wanted to protest but no words left his mouth.
“Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet,” he continued. “In fact, they can pass by unseen by most if they chose. And while the dragon is accustomed to the smell of dwarf, the scent of a Hobbit is all but unknown to them which gives us an distinct advantage.”
The whole discussion about your husband was unnerving for you. You disliked how your husband was talked of like a ploy in some silly game.
“This quest is no place for gentlefolk.” Thorins’ tone was as if the words left a vile taste in his mouth, clearly showing his disgust for your husband. “He probably wouldn’t last 5 miles away from his precious little home. Look at him, Gandalf! He isn’t made for such things, it’s as clear as day. His big feet and rounded belly would slow us down. Your little Hobbit would cry out for home within a day.”
Your blood boiled with each word he spoke, an anger rising in you which you desperately tried to keep down. Your nails dug into the palms of your hands and your jaw was clenched tightly shut, but enough was enough.
“HOW DARE YOU SPEAK OF MY HUSBAND LIKE THAT?! NO LESS WHILST YOU ARE IN HIS HOME AND IN HIS PRESENCE!”
Your outburst caught the attention of every soul in the dining room around the table. Their eyes settled on your figure that stepped closer and closer to them up to the point where you stood glaring down at Thorin right beside his seat. Even Bilbos’ eyes were wide and looked almost ready to pop right out of their sockets.
“My husband may not be a fighter like you…you BRASS DWARVES! But he deserves no less respect. I will not stand for someone speaking down on my Bilbo in such a manner, even if they are some king,” you all but spat out.
Some of the dwarves looked offended that you spoke to their leader in such a way, others looked thoroughly shocked, surprised that a small thing as yourself had such a fire in you. Gandalf smirked as Bilbo looked like he genuinely feared for your safety. He had witnessed outbursts from you that scared him before, which were quite rare, you barely losing your temper, but for once, he was terrified of the consequences seeing as it wasn’t at him nor a fellow Hobbit.
But it was Thorins’ reaction that had you confused. He seemed…impressed?
Thorin turned towards Gandalf, a smirk of his own forming on his face. “Are you sure it was Mister Baggins you had wanted to join our quest?”
Gandalf chuckled and looked towards you and your husband, you now joined your side, who was silently scolding you with his eyes but nonetheless remaining the concerned, dotting husband. “I was certain on Mister Baggins being the 14th member of your company, but I would highly recommend you take a 15th as I believe Misses Baggins certainly has something of her own to bring to the quest.”
“They both have a great deal more to offer than any of you know, including themselves. You must trust me on this,” Gandalf finished.
Thorin looked at Gandalf and Gandalf at he for a moment, Thorin evidently mulling it over within his head before finally, he spoke. “Very well. We’ll do it your way. Give them the contract.”
Both yourself and Bilbo began to protest as Balin produced the document. He handed it over to Bilbo who unravelled the parchment and began to scan over the words, your eyes peering over his shoulder to read it for yourself.
As Bilbo and you busied yourselves with reading over the document, Thorin had leant over towards Gandalf to whisper within his ear. “I cannot guarantee their safety.”
“Understood,” Gandalf hummed in acknowledgement.
“You’ll be left responsible for their fate.”
“Agreed.”
Bilbo began to read aloud the text, brow furrowed out of concentration, your own face screwed up slightly, straining to peer at the words.
“Terms; cash on delivery up to but not exceeding 1 14th for total profit, if any. Seems fair, uhh-“
“Shouldn’t it be changed to 1 15th if I were to join?” you questioned aimlessly.
Bilbo nodded his head in agreement before continuing. “Present company shall not be liable for injuries inflicted by or sustained as a government, thereof including but not limited to; lacerations. Evisceration?” He unfolds a piece further, reading before looking towards the group with a look of disbelief. “Incineration?!”
“Oh, aye. It’d melt the flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye,” Bofur quipped with ease.
Many more ‘encouraging and reassuring’ words were spoken by Bofur, unnerving both yourself and Bilbo, though you hid it extremely well. The moment your husband passed out, was when Bofur seemed to finally relent.
“Oh dear.” You looked towards your husband laying on the floor unconscious with concern before turning towards the others with a worried expression.
Valar forbid you allow him to go with those dwarves and that conniving wizard alone.
_______________
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I mean, I don’t really have anything to say sooooo
If you want to be added to a taglist lemme know
Anywho, I hope you enjoy
As always, constructive criticism and requests are welcomed and greatly appreciated :D
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LOTR / The Hobbit taglist:
@iwazoomingouttahere
#bilbo baggins#bilbo#bilbo x#bilbo x reader#bilbo baggins x#bilbo baggins x reader#x reader#x fem#x fem!reader#x female reader#x fem reader#x wife reader#x wife!reader#bilbo x wife!reader#bilbo baggins x wife!reader#the hobbit#The Hobbit fic#the hobbit fanfiction#fluff#the hobbit fluff
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Tolerate It
Summary: Reader struggles with feeling like Hotch is growing distant.
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x gn!Reader
Category: fluff/angst
Warnings: the reader has thoughts/feelings of inadequacy
Word Count: 3200+
Notes: This is my entry for @railmereid‘s 2k writing challenge! It was inspired by Taylor Swift’s song tolerate it! I think there’s only one direct quote (I’m begging for footnotes in the story of your life).
You met Aaron on accident. It could be said that a lot of people are met on accident, and that’s just how people meet other people. But with Aaron it felt different. It felt as though every little thing that went wrong that day lead you to the accident that would introduce Aaron Hotchner into your life.
After the shit show that was today, all you want to do is get home and sleep. Maybe also eat dinner, but honestly even food is on the backburner of your mind right now.
Your drive home from work was the first uneventful thing to happen all day, a necessary moment of peace. You made it into your apartment without any trouble, swiftly moving to change into your fluffiest pajamas and sleep.
The second your head hit your pillow, the fire alarm sounded. The blaring alarm screeched in your ears as you groaned. You forced yourself out of bed to comply with the alarm. Without thinking, you put on your slippers, grabbed your keys, and walked out the front door.
Once you made it to the street, you turned to see the building really was on fire. It looked contained to one patio, but it was big enough for you to give up your plans of sleep. Instead, you chose to turn on your heel and walk down the street to escape the crowd.
You didn’t have a plan as to where you were going. You just wanted it to be quiet. Before long, you found yourself in a park. Looking around, you spotted an empty bench. Perfect. You can just sit, enjoy the quiet of the park for however long it takes to fix the fire issue.
You start trekking toward the bench, now walking with a purpose, when you notice a man chasing his child. The child laughs loudly, joy so clear on his face. The man smiles at him, still running behind him.
His smile is so infectious, it has its own magnetic force pulling you towards him. Switching directions from the bench, you are now walking toward the grassy area they are playing in, not looking at your surroundings. You’re so captivated by the happiness on display in front of you, you don’t notice the change in terrain.
You end up tripping on a rock, falling and tumbling down the slight decline to land in a heap at the feet of the very man whose smile distracted you.
To make matters worse, he was not stationary. No, that would have been to simple. He was, in fact, still chasing the child. So, rather than rolling to a stop and looking up at him, you rolled right into him, causing him to lose his balance and fall over you.
The two of you were a tangled mess of limbs piled on top of each other. Slowly, carefully the two of you separated, gingerly moving arms and legs to avoid further injury. Helping each other rise from the ground, you were both speechless, equal parts amused and horrified at what just happened.
“Are you okay?”
You jumped at the sudden intrusion that brought you back to reality. Spinning around, you realized it was the child.
It took you an embarrassing amount of time to form a response. “Oh, um... yes I’m okay. Thank you.” Turning back to the man, you finally realized what just happened. “Oh my god. I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”
He chuckled, a small smirk appearing on his face before he replied, “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Oh, good.” Your relief was short lived as you realized what you were wearing and how you were dressed. “Please tell me you didn’t see me roll all the way down the hill?” You cringed at the thought.
���I could say it, but it wouldn’t be very honest.” Again, a small laugh left his lips.
“Do you think we could pretend?” You took a deep breath as he quirked his eyebrow. “Ya know, that I didn’t just make a complete fool of myself?”
“But that’s not true! Daddy said when something’s not true it’s a lie and lies are bad.” The boy chimed in again, earning a chuckle from both adults. You bent down to talk to him.
“You are absolutely right, lying is bad.” You nodded along with him, matching his serious expression.
He took in your expression, as if judging the sincerity of your statement. Slowly, a smile began to form as if he was glad you agreed with him. “Do you want to play tag with us?”
Looking from him to his father, you took the slight smile and nod of his head as an invitation to accept his offer. “I would love to.”
That series of accidents led you to where you are now, though. A year and a half later you are sitting in your shared home, watching Aaron Hotchner do paperwork for what feels like the millionth night in a row. More realistically, it is the ninth night in a row, but you’re feeling lonely and dramatic. Those nine nights have been spread out over the past month, interrupted by nights he spends away from home.
You yearn to be closer to him. All it would take is for you to cross the room, but it feels as though the distance from the couch you are lounging on to the desk he is working at is too far, like there is some impassible divide preventing you from interrupting him.
So you just keep watching. It has been 36 minutes since you started your observing. If he sticks to his pattern, he’ll pause in nine minutes to stretch, giving him the opportunity to notice your eyes on him. You’re hopeful that this time he’ll smile when he sees you.
So you wait. You watch him read. You notice the way his head dips just a bit lower as he tries to focus tired eyes on the smudged handwriting of a fellow agent. You notice how his hand squeezes the pen tighter than before, turning the once smooth glide of ink across the page into rushed, jagged strokes of letters. You notice the barely there wince as he flips the page, the result of the familiar feeling of a paper cut he’s grown all too used to. You notice everything he does. Which is why you’re not surprised when he speaks.
“You’re staring.”
Glancing at your phone, you note the time. Nine minutes later. Right on schedule. The smile you hoped for is noticeably missing, replaced by a curious tilt of his head.
“I’m basking in your presence.”
If he wanted to, he could figure out how lonely and dramatic you are feeling. But with the majority of his energy still directed towards the many reports on his desk, he only notices the surface level. Tired, slightly miffed, but enjoying that he is home.
There was once a time when he would have noticed it all though. A time when he noticed everything about you, sometimes before you had even noticed it about yourself. You’ve learned how to hide it though, to save him the energy that would be expended to profile you.
“You should consider a new career path. Comedy could really be for you.”
His deadpan joke doesn’t surprise you, but him rising from his desk chair does. For a minute, you expect him to come to you. To attempt to cross the impassible divide you’ve built in your head. Instead, he turns into the kitchen. He pauses at the island, drinking from the glass he never brings to his desk to prevent anything from ruining his files.
When he returns to his desk, squandering any lingering hope that he may have been done for the night, you rise. Unwilling to do what you had hoped of him, you turn away from his desk and move toward the stairs. Just before you lose sight of him, you turn back.
“Don’t forget to sleep tonight.”
Your tone is soft, emphasizing your concern to cover up the lingering loneliness.
“I’ll be up soon.”
You respond with a slight nod of your head, another thing unnoticed by Aaron as his eyes never left the files.
You flitter through the second level as you complete your routine to prepare yourself to sleep for the night.
You can’t help but notice the cold sheets on the empty side of the bed as you wait for Aaron, knowing you’ll likely be asleep before he comes to bed.
--
You’re surprised to wake up the next morning with Aaron still in bed next to you. You watch his chest rise and fall with the steady in and out of his breath. His face is fully relaxed, a sight you so rarely get to see.
You’re not sure how long you watch him sleep, but you notice when his rhythmic breathing changes pattern indicating he’s waking up. His eyes flutter open slowly, allowing you to see the exact moment he notices you.
“You’re staring again.”
The smile you are still hoping for is again absent from his face, too used to the frown that has taken over his features near permanently for the past month.
“I’m still basking in your presence.”
You notice the beginnings of a grin forming on his face. The twinkle in his eyes. The slight twitch of his lips. It’s nearly there when the moment is interrupted by the distinct, shrill ringtone indicating a call from the bureau.
You watch as he sits up to answer the phone with his typical “Hotchner”. If you hadn’t spent the last year noticing everything you could about the man, you would doubt that he had been asleep less than three minutes ago.
His brows furrow, his body leaning forward to sit a little straighter as he takes in the information from whoever is on the other end of the phone. His eyes trace the pattern of your comforter, up until he throws the blanket off of himself to rise to his feet. He’s changing into his suit before hanging up. Without even hearing his responses, you can tell where this is headed.
After he hangs up, you speak before he has the chance.
“I take it you won’t be here for dinner with my parents tonight? I’ll try to reschedule it.”
The question should express your loneliness, but you do well to hide the full truth. It’s easy to sound understanding because you are. You do understand, which is why you never plan to tell him how you feel.
The grim expression is enough for you to know you’re right, you don’t need the verbal confirmation. You nod your head, a smile on your face that doesn’t meet your eyes as he walks out of your bedroom.
--
While Aaron was away, you did everything you could to keep yourself busy outside of your typical 9 to 5 workday. Aside from the typical reading, cleaning, and TV watching you normally do you; you successfully navigated another conversation with your parents about why it was necessary to reschedule dinner a second time and played action figures with Jack, always in agreement about how his daddy is a hero.
Every night you found yourself staring at the door, hoping it would swing open and reveal him on the other side. Every night you grew less hopeful and more discouraged than the one previous.
--
Five days after he left, Aaron returned to your shared home. Despite the late hour, you waited for him on the couch. Knowing he probably hadn’t eaten dinner, you kept some food warm for him.
When the door swung open, you were in front of it in seconds. You pulled him into a hug, one he was too exhausted to reciprocate, and kissed his cheek.
Moving farther into the house, he dropped his files on his desk swiftly turning to head upstairs.
“I kept dinner warm for you.”
Your words stalled him at the bottom of the stairs. He turned around slowly, barely looking at you.
“I actually ate with the team tonight.”
His words hit you like a bus, but you turned to hide it. He didn’t eat with the team often, so you never blamed him when he stayed with them a bit longer than usual.
“Oh, okay. I’ll just put it in a container for tomorrow then. Did you want to talk about the case?”
You’ve always been willing to help him carry the weight of his job, but you’ve been trying harder to get him to open up this past month. Typically he brushes you off, tells you he’s fine, and then buries himself in paperwork.
He surprised you this time. Maybe he could tell you were upset, or maybe he was just too far in his head. Either way, rather than continuing on his path up the stairs, he moved to sit in the kitchen while you put the food away.
You listened as he ranted about the local officers withholding information about the case. You listened as he complained about the poor weather. You listened to every word, slowly washing and drying the dishes until they were sparkling. You listened until you were practically asleep, leaning against the sink. You didn’t dare to interrupt in fear he would shut down again. Or maybe it was you shutting down, but that’s a thought for another time.
When he finished talking, he rose from his chair, too worked up to sleep now, he sat down at his desk.
You watched, noticing everything you could.
--
Your weeks repeated much the same for the next few months. Your loneliness morphed into something new with each night you spent watching Aaron work.
It’s one such night when everything changes. You were trying to watch him work, but your thoughts drifted away from his actions as you lost yourself in your memories.
The first case Aaron went on after you moved in with him and Jack was the hardest for you. After a straight week of seeing him so often around the house, it felt like a slap in the face to come home and not have him there. Somehow you made it through, and you were clingier than usual when he came home.
He noticed how it affected you. That was before you started hiding your feelings from him. He told you he thought about you in every spare moment. That he wanted to solve the case even more than usual just so he could come home to see you even just a few minutes sooner.
He calmed all of your fears, protecting you from your own intrusive thoughts about holding him back when he was working.
You couldn’t help but think about every time he recognized how you were feeling and did what he could to help. How he would reassure you that he wanted to be with you, bringing you little key chains or stuffed animals from the cities he travelled to. How he would smile when he saw you. Where was that man now?
You thought back to the first day you met Aaron. It was like he saved you from a terrible day, bringing a smile to your face after hours upon hours of crap.
“Do you think we could pretend?” You laugh lightly to yourself at the memory of Jack telling you not to lie. Not realizing you spoke the words out loud, you’re surprised to hear Aaron from across the room.
“Pretend what?” The confusion is clear in his voice and the furrow of his brows.
“Hmm? Oh, um. I was just thinking about the first day we met.” Tears begin to brim your eyes as you think about how much everything has seemed to change. “And how you became my whole world and now I feel like I’m begging for footnotes in the story of your life.” The tears are now freely falling down your face.
Aaron looks even more confused now. “What?” He’s frozen at his desk, pen in hand, reports on the surface in front of him.
“I’m so sorry. I just feel like I’m taking up so much of your time and you have such important things to do! God, I’m so selfish. I’ve tried so hard to hide it though, so you can focus on people who actually need your help.” The panic in your voice grows as you speak, along with the tears falling from your eyes.
“Y/N...” Suddenly, Aaron is on his feet, easily crossing the imaginary divide you’ve built in between the couch and his desk. He slows down, moving gently as he pulls you into him on the couch, moving your legs across his lap so he could pull you into his chest. “Sweetheart, you could never take up too much of my time.” He speaks slowly, so as not to start another round of sobbing.
“What?” Your confusion is clearly communicated with the one word question, but you’re on a roll with your feelings so why stop now. “Are you saying it’s all in my head? Bu-, but, but you’ve been so busy every time you’ve been home! I’ve barely seen you, and I’ve tried so hard to not let it bother me because I know how important what you do is! I do, I understand it all so much. I could never be mad at you for working so hard. I just feel like you’re tolerating me being here when you have so many more important things to do.”
Now breathless, your rant ends with more tears forming in your eyes. Aaron is quick to wipe them away as they fall. “You’re right. I have been busy.” His voice is full of concern and regret as he thinks about the past few months. “But please don’t ever doubt for a second that you are the most important thing in the world to me.” He pauses for a second before continuing. “Well, other than Jack.” This earns him a slight chuckle from you before you reply.
“Jack is the most important to me too.” Your clear your throat, hesitant to voice your next question. “You’re not mad at me?”
Aaron looks so taken aback, you would laugh if you weren’t so nervous. “I could never be mad at you. Especially not for having completely valid feelings. I’m so sorry I haven’t been as present as I should’ve been. I love you so much, Y/N. More than I could ever put into words, and I will be doing a better job of showing you just how much you mean to me from now on.” There’s a slight edge to his voice, as though he’s annoyed with himself for you feeling this way. “Please, don’t ever hide your feelings from me. I never want to lose you.” His own voice is cracking, slight tears in his eyes at the idea of you not being in his life.
“I promise.” You lean up to kiss him, trying to convey just how much you’ve missed him.
“Let’s go to bed.” He lifts you up from the couch, carrying you toward the stairs.
You shriek, clinging to him even more. “It’s only 9:15!” You laugh at his antics. “What about your reports?”
“I have more important things to do right now.” He smirks at you, quickly moving into the bedroom to show you just how much he cares about you.
permanent tag list:
@mac99martin @goldeng1rl8 @measure-in-pain
#renswritingchallenge#aaron hotch hotchner#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotchner angst#aaron hotchner fluff#Criminal Minds#criminal minds x reader#hotch x reader
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This idea is inspired by @zozobegone ‘s this post
Setting: Grim goes platonic yandere mode when he realizes MC is going to go back to their world
It is written from Grimm's perspective
Italics indicate thoughts
🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱
The Great Grimm
Warning: Unhealthy dependency and friendship
"Henchperson, give me those candies!" Grimm ordered (Y/N) after trying so many times to reach the top shelf.
"Aw, you couldn't reach yourself?" (Y/N) had seen Grimm jumping and trying to climb to take the candies. They didn't do anything but watch him fail for the last 10 minutes, they couldn't help themselves as he was being so cute. "What's the magic word?"
After grumbling a little, Grimm spoke coercively, "Please..."
"That's a good boy!" They patted him on the head before grabbing the candies and giving them to him.
He started devouring them the moment he got his hand on the candies. He thanked them quickly before focusing entirely on his food. They were just so delicious, he couldn't resist it!
"Honestly Grimm, what will you do once I'm gone?" They sighed as they took a seat in the kitchen.
The words didn't register for Grimm at first. "Eh?" He stopped eating for a moment and looked at them. "What nonsense are you babbling about?"
"Hmm? Oh! Well, you know, it's been months and lots of progress have been done. Crowley finding a way for me to return home is right around the corner." They spoke as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"That birdman doesn't do anything but whine and pin all the tasks on us."
"I convinced him to do the actual work and he made a progress on finding a way for me to go home." (Y/N) stood up, walking toward him and kneeling to his height. "I'll give you a secret, I haven't told anyone this." They gulped before smiling, "Crowley found the way for me to go back. We just need ingredients and get some tests done then I'll be able to go back. I haven't told others about it yet because I wanted to have something concrete but since you are like my second family, I wanted you to know first."
Huh, he thought.
Grimm continued eating, ignoring what (Y/N) had said who got up and left the kitchen after sharing their secret. At that moment, it didn't bug him at all since he thought they were joking.
🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱
It didn't even pass a week that (Y/N) started to tell the others that they would be leaving soon and ask their help to get the ingredients and spend their last days together. Meanwhile, Grimm became more and more irritable as the days passed by.
Grimm didn't have a family nor a friend. When he opened his eyes to the world, he was in a back alley by just himself. He fended for himself and decided to become the greatest magician when he heard people talking about Night Raven Collage. He didn't have anyone who supported his dream nor he needed one. He would accomplish it on his own and show everyone how great he was. Of course, things didn't go as planned and he got thrown off the moment he revealed his true self at the entrance ceremony and was even threatened to get eaten. What's worse was that when he returned to NRC, showing the persistence of an NRC student, he was about to be thrown again. That would be the case if it weren't for (Y/N) sticking up for him. He wasn't a sentimental monster and he hated to be called cat by (Y/N) despite his catly activities as they called it. However, deep down he knew it was because of (Y/N) that he became a student in the NRC, getting one step closer to achieving his dream. Heck, he and (Y/N) were considered one student together.
It wasn't just (Y/N) creating him an opportunity that made him care about them, it was everything. They studied together; they slept on the same bed, shared meals and snacks, played games, did homework, complained about the school and students together. Not to mention, how much he enjoyed getting petted, belly rubbed and washed by them. They had each other when no one was around and always stood against overblot student together. In Grimm's eyes, they were an inseparable and astonishing duo; even a family he never had, not that he would say it out loud.
Maybe that was why he was miffed by everything that was going on... What would happen to me if (Y/N) were to go back? Become alone again? Get kicked out of NRC? Have no friends and family? No, that's not going to happen!
As the days passed, the attention he got from (Y/N) diminished gradually, came to a point that he only saw them in classes and when they got back. They were out with another person every day, not sparing enough time for the Great Grimm.
How dare they, he thought while heatedly huffing and puffing on the couch.
Grimm dearly missed the old times when (Y/N) wasn't obsessed with going back. He didn't even receive enough petting last few days nor they studied together. His mind wandered to their time spent together when he noticed something. (Y/N) would leave everything behind regardless of how important it was when he got into serious trouble or got hurt. They would sweep in to save his neck. It just clicked at that moment.
He would get into trouble or injured to get their attention on him. However, then the other minions would gather around them too and their attention would be divided. It was not something he wanted. An idea struck in his head after a few minutes of thinking. As expected out of the Great Grimm, it was a brilliant plan.
🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱
"Oh my goodness, Grimm! What happened to your paw-paw?!" (Y/N) rushed to his side, kneeling and examining his paw.
Grimm grumbled acting as if he didn't want to tell them. "Nothing, Great Grimm is fine!"
"Don't be ridiculous! It looks broken!" The worry on (Y/N)'s face was gratifying since he got their attention back.
"Ask your best friends," He answered with faux melancholy, withdrawing his paw near his chest and turning back as if he would leave.
"What does that supposed to mean?" They asked, confussion evident on their face just like Grimm wanted.
"Azul tricked them into doing his work and asked them to collect all the feathers on the roof. Ace and Deuce took me with them then we got into a fight and I fell off the roof." He lowered his head for extra effect.
"And they didn't even take you to the infirmary?!" He managed to get them riled up.
"It was my fault th-"
"That's not an excuse! For fuck's sake! C'mon, we are going to the infirmary." (Y/N) wrapped their arms around Grimm and lifted him en route to the hospital wing.
"Hey (Y/N)! Do you -"
"I can't believe what you two did!"
"What we did?" Deuce mumbled, fearing their wrath.
"Don't talk to me for some time and at least take responsibility and apologize!" (Y/N) stormed off before Ace could finish his sentence. Both Ace and Deuce look perplexed as (Y/N) marched away. Grimm was looking at them over (Y/N)'s shoulder, taking in their puzzled looks and flashing a grin as (Y/N) walked away.
🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱
For the next two weeks, Grimm continues with his plan.
"I swallowed a lot of soapy water." Grimm said as he was rubbing his belly, it genuinely hurt. Swallowing soapy water was more awful than hurting his paw.
"Azul! You promised to not do this and shame on you Jade, Floyd!"
3 more down, plenty to go...
"Leona, have you seen Grimm? He is way smaller than you! How couldn't you realize what your claws would do on Grimm?"
"Ruggie, Grimm got food poisoning because of you! You could have just stolen his food instead of replacing them with expired ones."
"Jack, I've never expected this from you. I'm very disappointed."
"What? What are you talking about?" Jack asked hastily but it fell on deaf ears as (Y/N) didn't even listen to him, grabbing Grimm and leaving them standing.
Woo hoo! My plan is working fantastically!
"He could have died Kalim if it were higher!"
"Jamil, I thought you would stop making people poison taste. Grimm has been puking all day long because of you!"
Grimm grinned wickedly as he was once again carried by (Y/N).
Wait until I'm done with all of you! HAHA, You cannot defeat me!
Grimm was thinking of new original ways to distance (Y/N) from the rest of Heartslabyul, Pomefiore, Ignihyde and Diasomnia. The last one would be the hardest as he had a powerful competitor who also sought (Y/N)'s attention but it didn't matter, Grim would be the only one!
That was what he thought until Birdman came bearing the news...
"(Y/N)! Good news! All the tests we did on the mirror worked! You can go back now!"
Everything stopped right there and then.
Grimm was so focused on getting (Y/N)'s affection and attention that he forgot about the tests they were doing on the mirror.
Now I am too late...
"My goodness! Thank you! I missed my home so much! I'll start saying my goodbyes!" (Y/N) spoke rapidly, they truly were happy to hear the news.
Happy to leave me all alone!
"No worries, they all gather around the magic mirror, waiting for you." Birdman informed, "Are you coming now?"
"Yes!" (Y/N) said before turning to him, taking him in arms and carrying him outside.
That is not how it was supposed to go...
As they were walking outside before leaving the Ramshackle perimeter, Grimm jumped on the ground.
"What's wrong?" (Y/N) stopped to ask.
"What's wrong?!" Grimm couldn't contain it anymore. everything was too much.
"(Y/N), do you need a moment to say goodbye to the dorm?" Birdman questioned, getting closer to where they were standing.
"Uhm... yes... I mean I spent months here so I should say goodbye to it. You can go, we will catch up in a moment."
With that Birdman walked away, leaving (Y/N) and Grimm alone.
"Is there something you wanted to talk about?" They asked idiotically.
Are they too dumb to understand?
As Grimm was about to tell them what was on his mind, unfiltered, he felt a power within himself. A power that wanted to surge out of him and he let it since he had nothing to lose anymore.
"You will leave me all alone!"
"But you already knew that, Grimm. This place isn't my home and if I took you with me, you would be discovered and people would do experiments on you." Their voice was so soft as they tried to reason with him but none of them mattered.
"We are one student together, you can't leave until I graduate!" The power inside of him grew even more.
"Well, Crowley said he-"
"We fought the monsters together. We are a team, you called me your son!" He could feel that power getting closer
"I-" He wasn't going to let them speak anymore!
"So you see me as a family but you abandon me!" He felt the power leak outside and he didn't even care about it.
"GRIMM!" (Y/N) yelled, taking a few steps back. "I, I, I changed my mind, we will be together!"
"You want me to have no one again!" Grim screamed, not even noticing how his voice changed. "AAAAAHHH!"
Everything went black for a moment and the second he reopened his eyes, everything was different. He was no longer looking up to (Y/N); he now was looking down on them. They were so tiny.
"YOU CANNOT LEAVE!" Grimm screeched when he saw (Y/N) backing and running away. He jumped, landing right in front of them who fell on the ground from the shock and still trying to crawl away.
"G-Gr-Gr-Grim, i-i-it's me! We are friends, remember? I know you wouldn't hurt me because we are family, innit?"
"It is too late for everything but you are right. We are family..." Grimm said, his voice echoing, giving it more menacing feelings.
Grimm was no longer waiting for (Y/N) to understand that they couldn't leave him. He had no intention of waiting anymore. He leaned towards them slowly, biting their clothing and lifting them.
It was always (Y/N) who carried Grimm around relentlessly now it was Grimm's turn. Once he was sure that they wouldn't fall, he took off, running away from the Ramshackle, leaving NRC behind.
#twst#twisted wonderland#twst grim#twisted wonderland grim#twst mc#twisted wonderland mc#mc/yuu#yandere twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland yandere#yandere twst#twst yandere#yandere#yandere grim
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Meeting and Dating Andy Cavenaugh
(My shitty gif)(Requested by anonymous)
- Living in the middle of the desert was an interesting experience. You’d lived in the same home since you were born and yet there were still occupants of your town that you’d never seen or met; even though there was only a meager population of under 50.
- It was the sheer size of your state that did it. Everyone lived miles away from each other and any shop that was considered to be “nearby” was still at least a thirty minute drive so you only ever went into town a couple times a month. Which is how you met Andy.
- You’d driven into town with a list of supplies you’d needed and a wallet full of that months savings, ready to get your stuff and go as quickly as you could; hoping to get home before the sun rose all the way and baked you alive.
- Coincidentally, Andy was in town at the same time, loitering around the store you were attempting to shop at. You paid him no mind and went about your business until you were ready to check out.
- Once the shopkeep had rung you up, you found that you didn’t have enough money for all the things on your list and reluctantly told the man to keep something as he helped you pack up what you could afford.
- Andy watched the entire interaction from somewhere behind you as he pocketed whatever he felt like. Once you headed towards the doors of the building, he picked some cheap thing off the shelf and went to the checkout, watching you as you packed up your car.
- While the store clerk was preoccupied with the cash register, the boy snuck whatever you’d left behind into his jacket and waited another few moments for the man to hand him his actual purchase before he made his way outside.
- You were just about to get into your car when he came up to you, greeting you casually before he held out his hand and offered you the thing that you’d left behind. You looked at him in surprise before you thanked him and took it, shifting it to your other hand so that you could offer him yours in a handshake.
- The two of you introduced yourselves and he asked if you’d be interested in going out sometime. Since all you knew about him was that he was attractive and sweet enough to “buy” you the thing you couldn’t afford, you agreed and wrote down your number for him, telling him that it was nice meeting him and saying goodbye before you drove off.
- He calls you a couple days later while out with his friends, a little liquid courage in his system and a bit of peer pressure from his buddies leading to his wonderful decision making.
- You’re clueless and he thinks his friends will stick to their word of “heading out before you show”, which obviously doesn’t happen. You arrive and they’re still there, almost immediately inviting themselves to what was supposed to be your first date and making the night rather uncomfortable at times.
- You can tell that your date is just as uncomfortable as you, but that doesn’t exactly make things any better. By the time the night ends, you’ve already decided that you’re probably just gonna count your losses and find a potential boyfriend elsewhere.
- But fate seems to be on Andy’s side because the two of you find yourselves face to face a few days later. He gives you an apology, explaining everything before telling you that he’d like to see you again.
- It takes you a minute to decide but you finally agree and tell him that you’ll give it another shot, bringing up your own idea for a date in hopes that you won’t be bothered by his buddies again. He gives you a wide smile, asking when he should pick you up and thanking you genuinely just before he leaves.
- So, for your second date; though you like to consider it your first, the two of you go to whichever place you chose and wind up having a really nice time. He seems to be on his best behavior but his real personality shines through as well; and it’s one that you really enjoy.
- You probably give him a kiss on the cheek as a goodnight but the two of you share your first real kiss on your next date. You’d spent pretty much the entire night together and wound up parking off on the side of the road to stargaze for a while.
- You were leaning against the hood of his car with him, looking up at the sky before your gaze shifted to the man beside you. He was preoccupied with watching the stars, leaving you to let your mind wander.
“I’m glad we gave this another shot.” You said and watched as his focus shifted to you instead.
- He gave you a smile and told you that he was too before he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours.
- Congratulations, you caught yourself a firebird in the middle of the desert.
- Andy really doesn’t give a shit about how other people feel like 80% of the time, and he’s just a fan of affection in general, so there’s going to be a lot of Pda in your relationship; if you’ll allow it.
- Handholding. He likes keeping you close to him and making sure that you aren’t getting into any dangerous trouble; especially if you’re around his friends. Although he does wear his gloves a lot so; even though he gives you the occasional reassuring squeeze or strokes his thumb across your knuckles, you’ll most likely be feeling leather more than his skin.
- If someone’s kissing a face, it’s you. His lips are for your lips only, he doesn’t bother touching them to anything else; though he does enjoy when you kiss him on the cheek or jaw.
- Deep, slow kisses.
- He calls you honey or baby more than he calls you by your name. And as tough as he likes to pretend he is, he’d love to have you call him by pet names too.
- Cuddling is one of his favorite pastimes; he absolutely loves it. Most of the time, he’ll pull you in, pressing his cheek/jaw to your head and letting you lay right up against him, your head resting against his shoulder or in the crook of his neck.
- A lot of the time, he prefers to be loving in a more reserved way. He tends to show that he cares through his actions and by doing little things to make your life easier. Things like waking up early to put gas in your car or picking up things that you need from the store whenever he’s in town so that you don’t have to go.
- Sometimes, he’ll set up a sentence like he’s about to say something really sweet or you’ll ask him something expecting a cute response and he’ll just say something crude or lewd instead.
“How do I look.” He turns and looks at you, a smile gracing his face.
“Your tits look great.” He replies, barely holding in his laughter.
- He indulges you more than he cares to admit. He might occasionally act like he’s too cool but he’s too in love with you to say no and potentially make you sad.
- Tv dates. There ain’t shit else to do.
- Cruising around in his firebird; and sometimes parking somewhere to makeout.
- Going on road trips or long outings. There isn’t a whole lot to do in your town so you’ll occasionally take the long ride over to the next town in hopes of finding something fun.
- He’ll never tell you that he does but he always dodges potholes and bumpy areas during these trips so that he doesn’t wake you up while he’s driving.
- Driving out to the middle of the desert with a bundle of blankets to watch the sunrise; or stopping on the side of the road during one of your trips.
- Sitting with him while he works on his car.
- Going out into the desert to shoot or smash random junk. Vases, porcelain, tin cans; stuff like that.
- Playing pinball and other convenience store arcade games.
- Every now and again, he’ll get some money from his pops and take you out to a nice dinner; especially if it’s after the two of you are pushed into doing something you dont like and he can see that you’re upset. It’s usually because of Sam but he still feels the need to try and make it up to you and make sure that you aren’t gonna ghost him.
“Hey, why don’t we go and get some dinner,” he’ll say, a hint of nervous desperation in his voice as you walk out to his car. “You can get whatever you want. Dessert too.”
- It isn’t clear exactly how rich Andy actually is but it seems like he’s sort of embarrassed to have wealth in such a poor town. Because of this, I feel like he probably wouldn’t mention it and would try to dodge questions that would lead to him exposing the truth, maybe acting like he’s less wealthy than he is until Sam “outs” him and causes an awkward situation.
- Him stealing things for you. You’d much prefer if he just bought them but at least he doesn’t tell you whether or not he’s stolen it most of the time.
- Likes to fool around a lot; he’s rarely ever fully serious and he’s always trying to make you laugh.
- Can quote just about any western film you can name and does impressions of all the characters. He grew up on those sorts of things so he’s practically an expert by now.
- He likes messing with your stuff: putting on your clothes, using your mirror for random stuff, picking things up off your dresser and toying around with them, etc.
- My god, the change of character he has when he’s with his friends and you, compared to when he’s with his parents gives you whiplash. It’s hilarious seeing him lie and act like an angel during family dinners.
- His dad probably lectures him about manners whenever you’re with them: things like putting his elbows on the table, saying grace, how he treats you, etc. Its pretty amusing to see.
- He seems like a good guy who got mixed in with the wrong people. Sure, he enjoys a little chaos and trouble making like the rest of them but he doesn't like hurting people and you can tell from the way he acts afterward that he isn't proud; especially when you give him a look in the middle of the situation and sober him up.
- You’re dragged along with him and the boys a lot; or he’s forced to ditch you to hang out with them whenever Sam calls.
- Sam flirting with you. You know damn well that he’d make you compliment him or get you to agree with his praise of himself; and Andy would be miffed but unable to do anything besides listen to him while his knuckles whiten on his steering wheel.
- There aren’t a lot of people in your town for him to get jealous of but whenever there is, he does. Most of the time, it’s Sam or some flirtatious traveler but other times it’s your celebrity crushes or old boyfriends. He usually just bites his tongue or makes some kind of sarcastic, passive aggressive comment; it depends on who it is and how you’re reacting to them.
- He’s always looking over at you and making sure you’re alright whenever he can; especially when you’re out with his friends. He knows that getting into the trouble that they do can be dangerous and he doesn’t want anything happening to you just because Sam doesn’t know when to stop.
- The two of you get into a lot of arguments but they’re rarely ever serious. You mostly just bicker before the two of you give up and decide that it’s a pointless fight.
- Whenever you do have an argument, one that he causes and upsets you with, he always feels guilty and finds himself unable to stay mad at you. He might not verbally apologize but he will try to make it up to you in some way and tell you that he’s sorry.
- He’s not big on saying he loves you but he does say it on occasion; and definitely shows it more than he says it.
- The two of you probably get engaged on a whim a bit too early into your relationship but he’s promising to take you out of that desert city and along with him to Hollywood so the ring is a nice symbol of that oath.
#andy cavenaugh imagine#andy cavenaugh headcanons#andy cavenaugh headcanon#andy cavenaugh imagines#creepshow 2 imagine#creepshow 2 headcanon#creepshow 2 headcanons#creepshow 2 imagines#80s movie imagines#80s movie imagine#80s movie headcanons#80s movie headcanon
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tsubaki (椿) - preview
PAIRING: commander!jeno x rebel!reader (fem)
GENRE: fluff, angst, enemies to lovers(ish), royalty(ish) lmao idk
WARNINGS: mentions of murder, death, swords and knives, blood, violence
SYNOPSIS: all you’ve ever wanted was to avenge your parents, who died at the hands of the emperor. when you meet jeno, the man who commands armies, he offers to help your cause. but how can you trust the man who works for the very thing you plan to tear down?
WORD COUNT: teaser: 1.2k (estimated wc: ?? definitely more than 6k idk)
A/N: this is my very first long fic lmao not sure when it’ll come out, maybe in the next month or so. special thanks to @yoongistoesuwu for the original idea and some scenes that were also her ideas and for helping me out sometimes
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A silent warrior in the night.
You ran as fast as your feet could carry you, your steps making a muted thud against the soft ground. No other sounds could be heard but the chirp of the crickets and the breeze brushing past your ears. There was a howl in the distance, the sound of a wolf closing in on its prey.
You, like the other creatures of the night, were out for blood.
Each footfall ripped a ragged breath from you, your chest falling and rising rapidly. Ahead of you were the looming walls of the palace, too tall to see over. You approached the sturdy structure, cautiously observing your surroundings for any movement. Giving yourself a minute to catch your breath, you hid in the shadows beneath the wall, watching the starry sky above you.
The clouds moved and obscured the moon for a moment, pitching the world into murky darkness.
You moved quickly, taking hold of a jutting stone and scaling the wall in no time. As quiet as a mouse, you landed on the other side firmly, scurrying to find another shadow before the moon appeared again. It was risky to go through the palace courtyard, but the night was on your side this time.
As the clouds advanced once again so did you, scanning the vicinity for anyone that could be watching.
There was an approaching guard. When you saw him, your breath caught in your throat and you almost choked. You flattened yourself against the inner wall, scolding yourself for that one reckless moment that could’ve foiled your mission. As the figure got closer, you hand wandered down to rest on the dagger hanging from your hip. If he got any closer you would have no choice but to take him out.
Your grip tightened on the dagger, inhaling softly and watching the guard closely, getting ready to strike. Just as you were about to pull it from the scabbard, he turned on his heel sharply and headed the opposite direction.
Letting out a relieved breath, you continued your precarious trek along the stone wall. Your plan was perfect. Eliminating a guard was not part of it.
Just ahead was the gateway that would lead to the palace itself, and all you needed to do from then on is walk right in. It was comical how easy it was to break into such a heavily guarded place. The thought of it could make you laugh out loud.
Without making a single noise, you sprinted across the decorative stone floor and crossed the tall gateway, smirking to yourself at your skill. You finally pulled out your small weapon, holding it against your palm and crouching along the stone pillars. You momentarily stilled, your skin tingling the way it did when you trained.
Spinning on your heel, you turned and met an incoming blade with your dagger, the metal clanging and reverberating throughout the courtyard. Your eyes widen, and you quickly shove the long sword away from you, the blades making a shing! sound.
The man wielding the sword was not the one from earlier; he seemed of higher rank from his uniform robes, but you couldn’t tell clearly thanks to the lack of light.
It dawned on you that you had been discovered, and it was a problem.
In a split second, you pulled out your second knife, twin to the one you held in your right hand, and held it in your left. You lowered into your offensive stance, bending your knees and holding out your weapons in front of you.
You lunged first, aiming for a weak spot, but he moved just as fast and blocked your attack. Once again, your blades rang out and you could feel the power in his parry that made your daggers vibrate.
“Stop.”
His voice was hushed and calm as he lowered his sword. You took the opportunity to aim for his undefended chest, yet he anticipated the move and stepped aside. He grabbed your wrist and yanked you forcefully, the action catching you off guard. You tumbled down with him, hitting the stone ground hard.
“Hey!” you growled, attempting to untangle yourself from the mysterious man.
He put a hand over your mouth. “Shh...you’re going to get caught,” he muttered, pulling the both of you closer to the pillar, blending into the darkest shadows.
“Who goes there!” shouted an unfamiliar voice from behind the pillar.
You sucked in a breath and heard your unwelcome companion do the same, gripping your daggers tighter. Neither of you moved an inch, watching the other guards’s silhouette for his next move.
“I asked who’s there! Come out now before I call for more soldiers!” the voice rang out again. The hand over your mouth was removed and he used it to bring it to his lips, asking for silence. You watched him with wide eyes.
“I’m going to go out. Don’t move or make any noise, alright? I’ll take care of him,” he whispered, gripping your shoulders. “Just trust me, okay?”
Before you could even think of a response, he shot up with his sword in hand.
“Lieutenant Han!” he exclaimed. “It’s just me, don’t worry. Resume your rounds please.”
“Commander Lee? Right away sir,” the guard replied quickly as the man in front of you sheathed his sword like nothing.
Commander? You had been caught by the damn commander.
You got up quickly and stepped back but, as if reading your mind, the commander held out a hand to stop you.
“I know what you’re doing here, but you’ve got to have a better plan than just walking in and killing him,” he said, his voice low.
His words miffed you a bit. “So are you going to stop me?” you taunted, holding up your knives once more.
He sighed. “Put those down, you’ll attract the whole force if we fight. If you try now, you won’t make it. It was foolish of you to come alone.”
You lowered your weapons. “What are you saying then?” you asked him, raising your eyebrow.
“I’m saying go back home, and come back with a better plan.”
“Are all commanders this lenient? Aren’t you going to arrest me?” You scoffed.
The man shrugged, the action making him seem a bit more boyish. The shadows on his face made it impossible to discern his age, but from his voice he seemed young, too young to be a commander for the emperor.
“If you want me to, I have nothing against it. I thought it would be nice of me to give you a chance to spare your life,” he said bluntly. “Now go home, shoo shoo.”
“I am not a child. I’m here to kill the emperor,” you stated, getting defensive. “Now if you won’t stop me then move.” You tried maneuvering around him, but he blocked your path.
“I know, and I’m all for it. I told you though, it’s not time. Look at how easily I caught you, do you really think the other soldiers in there would be as forgiving as me? Go home princess.” He added the last part, putting a hand on your shoulder.
You shrugged him off. “I’m no princess. Don’t you want to murder him too? Is that why you’re letting me off the hook?”
The young man smiled dimly. “The lieutenant is coming back. I’ll see you later, princess,” he said, smirking as he emphasized the ridiculous name. “I’m Lee Jeno, by the way. Find me when you improve your master plan.”
#cznnet#kdiner#kpop#nct dream#nct 127#wayv#nct u#lee jeno#nct jeno#nct dream angst#nct dream au#nct angst#nct au#jeno angst#jeno au#nct 2020#nct reactions#nct dream reactions#mark lee#huang renjun#lee haechan#na jaemin#zhong chenle#park jisung#jeno x reader#nct dream fluff#nct fluff#nct dream royalty au#jeno royalty au#nct mafia au
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Temporary Home: Chapter 10
Guardians of the Galaxy fanfic | Reader x Guardians (With Yondu and Kraglin!)
Summary: The prank war has an unfortunate outcome and Rocket has a run-in with a raccoon.
Previous Chapter here | Next Chapter Here Or click here to: Start From Beginning
Author's note: Thank you to @maribatshipper for the suggestion for the raccoon scene and a prank idea! And thank you to all the others who have suggested scenes they'd like to see in this series! (I'm still working them in!) Everyone feel free to send me anything else you'd like to see happen in this story, it might take me a bit to work certain things in, but I'll try to add as many as I can!
Word Count: 6,114
You slept-in the next day, as did Yondu, though he slept in a bit later due to having waited up for several nights before finally being able to catch you sneaking out.
When he did finally wake up the first thing he saw was you oiling the hinges to your bedroom door.
The two of you locked eyes on his way to the bathroom, no words exchanged. Just you very deliberately not stopping in your actions with an almost defiant look and him shaking his head with a half-laughed huff because you both knew why you were doing it.
***
Peter and Kraglin wasted no time continuing the prank war. Kraglin attempted to whoopee cushion you at breakfast, but you had seen it and decided to eat your apple standing against the counter.
He then later got you with the same ice trick you had pulled on Peter the previous night. Well, almost the same trick. Jackass actually stood there and kept the ice pressed to the back of your neck for a bit while you seized up and tried to escape the cold sensations before eventually letting it fall down the back of your shirt. He laughed the whole time, Peter too. You hadn't seen him open the freezer so he and Peter must have planned it out before you got into the kitchen, arranging for Kraglin to do it instead, knowing you'd likely suspect Peter.
Your thoughts were that you needed to plot some revenge as you made your way out of the kitchen, but they were interrupted as you walked into the sitting room and Rocket confronted you.
"Hope ya don't think you can bribe me with a new bed to get me to like you."
You crossed your arms and feigned a mildly confused look, saying flatly, "I don't know what you're on about."
Peter and Kraglin make their way past you to sit on the couch, throwing a glance to you and the raccoon as if to gauge the situation. Everyone knew that you and Rocket weren't exactly on friendly terms, and to see you facing each other down inspired a degree of concern.
Rocket scoffed. "There was a new bed in my room last night, where else would it have come from?"
You shrug. "Haven't a clue."
Kraglin now threw a glance at you. He knew you said you weren't going to say anything about it, but he hadn't expected for you to actually outright deny you had done it when asked.
"Oh, so it just magically appeared then?" Rocket said sarcastically.
"Looks like it."
"What's going on?" Gamora asked as she entered the room, eyeing the two of you to see if she needed to help diffuse anything.
Rocket ignored her. "Beds just don't appear out of thin air!"
"Apparently they do," you replied.
Gamora tilted her head back in understanding, and then made her way over to the table where Yondu was sitting and playing with Groot. This didn't appear serious, so she wasn't going to get involved.
When she sat Yondu whispered over to her, "What're they carryin' on about?"
She didn't get a chance to answer because Rocket then yelled, "DON'T CALL ME A RACCOON!"
What had happened was Rocket said, "They do not!" in response to your claim that beds could just magically appear. It couldn't have been one of the others, it's not like they could leave to go buy one, so it had to be you, and it pissed him off that he was so sure and more frustrated that you wouldn't just admit it. He felt like you were making fun of him, calling him stupid for insinuating he would believe in something as dumb as a magically appearing bed.
To be honest, you weren't even fully sure why you were denying it yourself. You had just wanted to set it up and be done, and you were annoyed by him insisting that you admit you had done something nice for him, especially if he was now going to accuse it of being bribery.
You replied, "Why would I have done it? I don't even like you."
Rocket was only growing angrier, crying out, "I know it was you! None of the others could have done it, and I would have seen if one of those SHIELD people showed up with it!"
You shrugged then responded with, "I don't know what to tell you, I'm not in the business of making beds for raccoons."
You knew you were being a little mean. You had called him a raccoon once already, shortly after he arrived, and received a very curt scolding from him for it. You had also seen how it pissed him off when Peter called him that, always angrily insisting that he wasn't a raccoon. So, you had expected him to be a little miffed.
You hadn't expected him to snap and actually lunge for you.
You dodged just in time, luckily, and he landed on the floor, growling at you.
Peter yelled at him to knock it off and Rocket retorted back that you deserved it.
You just stared him down and said, "I'll punt you across the room next time, you little shit!" Why had you taken the time to make him a bed again?
"Alright, break it up!" said Kraglin firmly, standing up to show he meant business, used to having to break up Ravager fights and easily falling back into the old role of neutral mediator.
"Gladly," you say bitterly, turning to leave the room.
Rocket grumbled something unintelligible and walked in the opposite direction, hopping up into the rocking chair to sulk.
***
You went back and forth with Peter and Kraglin with the pranks most of the rest of the day, and it actually helped improve your mood about the Rocket situation, or at very least took your mind off it.
You got them back around lunch when you squirted some lemon juice in Peter's soda when he wasn't looking, and smeared jam on the inside of the handle of the fridge knowing Kraglin was about to make a sandwich. The looks on their faces were satisfying, but you discovered their way of getting you back later was to leave two glasses of water on the table. Upside down. With a note that read, "Have fun! Don't get wet! -Peter and Kraglin"
You didn't have fun, but at least a bath towel made into a makeshift dam around the glasses kept you from getting too wet.
You immediately thought of a way to get them back. Unfortunately it didn't work quite as planned.
That evening, sometime after supper when you finished washing the plate you had used, you placed a piece of duct tape just over the spout of the faucet, so that it was only mostly covering where the water came out. This way, when the water was turned on, it would spray directly onto the victim.
You knew that Peter or Kraglin would likely be the next ones to use the sink, as they had made their own dinner just after you had and were just starting to finish up.
You left the kitchen and went to the sitting room, pretending to look for a book to read but in reality you were eagerly waiting for the screams as one or both of the guys met their fate with an unexpected shower. You even considered returning to the kitchen once it happened just so you could tease them on not following their own advice, referencing the note attached to their previous prank about 'not getting wet.'
Not too long and your desires were met, however, the voice behind the cries wasn't the one you had intended to hear.
A loud, angry, bellowing of, "DAMMIT QUILL!" could be heard from the kitchen and your eyes went wide.
Oh no.
That was Yondu's voice. Apparently he had fancied a glass of water and got in the way of the prank, becoming its unintended victim.
You quietly made your way out the sitting room door, hearing Yondu scolding that Peter needed to grow up and then Peter saying, "I swear! I didn't do that one!"
You made it to the front door and heard Kraglin's voice defending Peter, "No, for once he didn't, sir. I've been with him all day! Pete didn't do that."
You quickly and quietly opened the door and escaped just in time to hear Yondu calling your name.
***
You decided it was probably safe to re-enter the house perhaps half an hour later after taking the time to do some light archery practice.
You were greeted inside by Mantis who was apparently coming to look for you anyway to see if you wanted to play a game of UNO.
You eyed her suspiciously, remembering the last time someone sent her to invite you for something. You lean in close to her and quietly say, "Before I say yes, I want you to answer honestly. Did Kraglin or Peter send you, and is this another trick?"
Mantis shook her head. "No, Gamora sent me. She said nothing about a trick."
You thought for a bit. Mantis didn't seem the type to flat-out lie, and Gamora already said she didn't get involved in Peter's mischief, so you decided it was safe and agreed.
Mantis grinned wide and took your hand, practically dragging you to the sitting room and exclaiming to the others upon entry that you had said yes to playing.
At the table you saw Gamora, Drax, Peter and Kraglin. You didn't know where the others were, but you thought it was probably better that Yondu was elsewhere just in case he was still cranky about getting caught in the line of fire. You also didn't feel like dealing with Rocket.
Gamora and Peter sat on one side of the table, with Drax at one end. Kraglin sat opposite of Peter and Mantis was about to take the seat across from Drax, only just releasing your hand when you realized the only other seat would be between her and Kraglin. You eyed him and said, "Do you promise to behave yourself if I sit here?"
Kraglin feigned being offended. "Of course, ma'am!"
You narrowed your eyes but went to take a seat hesitantly. Out of the corner of your eye you could see him reach his hand out toward your chair, thinking that you weren't looking. If the last couple days had gone any differently you might have thought he was going to try a creepy move and grab your ass, but you had a feeling that wasn't what he was going for.
Kraglin was startled when your hand suddenly darted to grab his wrist and pulled it up above the table.
Just what you thought. Whoopee cushion.
"Aha! Behave my ass!" you scold, ripping the whoopee cushion from his hand easily in his shock and sitting down. "I'm keeping this," you taunt, mimicking what said the other day when he took possession of it from you. You stuck your finger in the opening to quietly release the air from the sack and stowed it away in your pocket as he pouted.
Gamora narrowed her eyes at Kraglin. "You two said you were going to behave." She wasn't referencing how you had made Kraglin promise before sitting down, but rather she had actually made Peter and him promise that they would behave and not cause mischief during the game while Mantis fetched you, wanting to try and make friendly with their host with a game without their shenanigans. Honestly, she wasn't sure why she believed them.
Kraglin grumbled what sounded like a "Sorry, ma'am." and Peter changed the subject by starting the game.
Surprisingly they did behave while playing. All six rounds of it before everyone was tired of playing and decided to pack it up.
***
You had just finished washing up for bed and were exiting the bathroom when a cry to "watch out!" made you turn just in time for a giant spider to fly towards your face.
You realized too late it was only Peter throwing the rubber spider at you.
Too late to stop yourself from shrieking as you batted it away, too late to prevent your loss of balance as you reared back, much too late to stop your socks from slipping on the hardwood floor or you from falling backwards, and unfortunately much, much too late to stop yourself from a poor landing where you tried to catch your fall with your outstretched hand only to be met with blinding pain.
Your eyes rolled back and you couldn't even scream, the sound caught in your throat as if the pain were strangling you.
Peter realized his prank had gone wrong when instead of yelling at him, you only rolled to one side and muted gutted noises came out of your throat as you held your arm.
"Crap! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! That wasn't supposed to happen!" Peter cried, rushing toward you on the floor. Kraglin's voice could also be heard apologizing, footsteps coming from his and Yondu's room where he and Peter had been waiting for you to be done with your shower so they could perform what was supposed to be just a harmless jump scare.
Finally finding your voice you yell, "Don't touch me! Get the fuck away from me!" as Peter knelt down. Your senses were blurred into only pain and rage. Your only thoughts were "go away" and 'fix arm, stop pain.'
More apologies poured from their lips as you tried to right yourself up with only one arm as you couldn't bear to move the other.
Peter tried to help you up but you only kicked him away, still blinded by pain and rage. "I said don't fucking touch me!" Eventually you were able to use the nearby wall to use to crawl into a standing position while the other two made pleas for you to let them help, for you to calm down, and something about dislocation. You couldn't really think clearly enough to sort out what they wanted, and only kept (figuratively) pushing them away as you made your way to your bedroom door where Mantis was now standing looking concerned.
You could just make out other voices, but didn't have a clear understanding of what they were saying or what they wanted either. You were only focused on one goal, and that was getting to your room to assess your arm.
Mantis readily moved aside so you could enter, but then remained in the doorway once you entered, unintentionally preventing you from being able to close the door. You look at her, saying firmly, "In or out. Pick one."
Looking a little frightened, she chose out, and you slammed the door behind her, locking it out of instinct more than clear thinking.
Almost immediately there came pounding on the door, and Peter's shouts that you needed to come out and let someone help you.
"Fuck off! I've got it!" you yell back.
Outside the room was a mess of concern. Gamora stood in the doorway of her and Peter's room, yelling at Peter and Kraglin from across the landing for their foolishness once she realized well enough what had happened. Yondu was standing on the stairs, having heard the loud thump of a body hitting the floor and then you yelling at someone to get away. He came to investigate only to find the scene before him.
Mantis, intimidated by the yelling, sought comfort from Drax who was standing in his doorway wondering what in the world was going on.
Rocket had momentarily stepped out of the room with Groot to see what the commotion was about, but upon realizing it was you just waved the situation off and returned to the room. Not his problem.
Yondu asked Peter what all the fuss was about and Peter admitted that he and Kraglin had fucked up a prank and it lead, to what looked to Peter, you dislocating your elbow, and then you locked yourself in your room. This explanation made Yondu join in with Gamora's scolding.
Inside your room you assessed your arm. Nothing was broken, but the elbow was indeed dislocated. You felt sick, mostly from the pain but also from the unsettling feeling of having a bone out of joint. You knew what you needed to do, you just wished you had a shot or two of whiskey in you first.
Back outside the room Yondu scolded both Peter and Kraglin, telling them that he was putting a stop to this prank war. Gamora agreed, stating that it had gotten out of hand when the guys tried to argue that it was just an accident.
Yondu attempted to knock on your door and convince you to come out, but you wouldn't bite, calling back through the door that you had it handled and for everyone to leave you alone.
Yondu glared through the door at your stupidity. He thought you were acting like a child. "Ya need someone to help ya put it back in place, now get out here. That's an order!" That last line was mostly from habit, and it got pretty much the response anyone would have expected from you.
"I don't take orders from you!"
Yondu growled, not exactly used to being defied, especially not the rare occasions he was actually trying to be helpful. He'd seen his share of dislocations, both from his crew and their victims. It was never pretty. "Well ya can't just haul up in there like a wounded animal!"
You rolled your eyes inside your room, fighting the churning in your stomach as you positioned yourself for the unpleasant task, nestling the inner elbow of your injured arm against one of the short posts of your bed's headboard. You took several deep breaths, trying to gather the courage to do what needed to be done.
After a few moments of you not responding Yondu beat on the door again. "Ya better not have passed out in there!"
You groan and say, "I'm fine! Give me a minute to handle it!"
Before anyone can speak again a pop followed by a cry of pain and a string of curses was heard from your side of the door.
Yondu stepped away from the door and rubbed his face. "I don't believe it. She actually did it." he said in disbelief.
Peter approached the door. "Hey! Hey! You alright?"
More curses, followed by, "I told you I had it handled. Now piss off."
Yondu just shook his head and retreated to his room after that, muttering that you were insane and followed by a remorseful looking Kraglin.
Peter also went back to his room feeling guilty and receiving a scolding look from Gamora as well as an earful once they closed the door.
After a bit Drax convinced Mantis to also go back to your shared room, only planning to return to his once he was sure you'd let her in.
You heard a gentle knock and a soft voice asking, "Can I come back in now?"
You considered telling her no, that she chose 'out' so she could stay out, but now that a bit of pain had subsided and your mind was starting to clear you had the presence of mind to realize that you'd only be being a dick by doing that, so you got up and unlocked the door for her.
She entered sheepishly, asking if you were ok, clearly seeing the pain in your eyes.
"I'm fine, Mantis," you say curtly, tucking yourself into bed the best you could, settling for lying on your back with your arm resting on your stomach. "Go to sleep."
Mantis turned off the light and quietly crawled into her own bed. You could feel her staring at you as you stared at the ceiling and waited for sleep.
***
The next couple days you mostly stayed in your room, leaving only to shower, use the restroom, and eat. You knew with that kind of injury you weren't supposed to use your arm for a bit if you wanted it to heal, and that knowledge irritated you to no end.
You couldn't tend the garden, you couldn't practice your archery, or anything else that required the use of two hands. So, you just sulked in your room listening to music and reading.
The first day nobody bothered you much, sensing that you were very cranky. Peter tried to ask to look at your arm, but you ignored him, and he didn't press it. Gamora had later tried to tell you that you needed to splint your arm, and Yondu added that if not that then you at least needed to keep it in a sling, but you only sighed at them at took your glass of juice to your room, much to Yondu's irritation.
The second day they started getting more insistent when by around noon it became clear that you intended to stay in your room all day again. Yondu grumbled again to Kraglin that you were hiding away like a wounded animal. However, realizing that you'd only get mad if they all kept hounding you, they collectively decided to send Gamora in.
They knew you wouldn't listen to Peter or Kraglin since the injury was their fault and you were understandably not really talking to them right now. Mantis might have been a decent choice since you didn't ever really get angry at her, but she had no basic medical knowledge, so she was off the table. Yondu also could have been a decent second choice, but everyone, including himself, knew he wouldn't have the patience to deal with you if you started refusing to listen to reason.
Gamora went up to your room and took it as a good sign that the door was open. She peered inside to see you sitting at your desk and knocked on the doorframe.
"What?" you asked, not looking up from your book.
"I just wanted to-"
"If this is about my arm again, it'll be fine." you say stubbornly.
Gamora entered your room without bothering to ask permission. "If you just let me look-"
"No." you say curtly.
Gamora took a breath. "We really do just want to help you."
"I don't need it. I've been fixing myself up all by myself for a long time. I don't need help now."
"Look, I can't force you, but please understand that it's not weakness to accept help."
You finally look at her, your expression hard. "I never said it was. Just said I didn't need it."
Gamora stared back at you. You were just so stubborn. Reminded her of a few people she knew... if she were honest. One being herself. There was a time where she had believed if she couldn't solve every problem on her own, it made her weak. This wasn't helped by the fact Thanos raised her to be an assassin, and punished such weakness. However, after she joined the Guardians, after she found a family, she came about unlearning that. It was ok to need help sometimes. It didn't make you weak. She only wished she could help you realize it, but she knew that pushing wasn't going to make it happen. You needed to get there on your own. You needed to trust them.
"Ok," she relented, "but know if you ever do need our help, we're here, alright?"
You shortly nod and turn back to your book. "Got it."
She then left you alone. Sometimes, to get someone to come to you willingly, you needed to give them space.
***
The next time anyone saw you was late that evening when you finally decided to eat something for supper. You were in the mood for peanut butter and jam, though opening the jars proved tricky for obvious reasons, but you managed.
You were in the kitchen having just finished your sandwich when Drax came in the kitchen. He looked around a bit before asking if you had seen Rocket. You hadn't, but before you could say as much you heard the sound of growling followed by Rocket's voice shouting, "Fuck off!"
Your eyes flew wide and you bolted for the door, throwing it open to see Rocket fighting with another raccoon a few meters away, rolling on the ground with Rocket cursing up a storm as the raccoon snarled and snapped at him.
You swore, and pushed past Drax to grab the old shot gun you left hidden in a cabinet near the back door along with a couple shells and ran back outside.
You popped the shells in and took aim, trying to get a shot where you wouldn't hit Rocket along with the other raccoon. Your aim was a little shaky due to your injured arm, the shot gun being just heavy enough to make steadying it with that arm a task, even with the adrenaline dulling the pain. You were worried you might accidentally shoot Rocket, but you had to take the shot. If you didn't, and the raccoon bit him, he would likely be as good as dead anyway.
In what was likely seconds but felt much longer, you managed to line up a shot when the raccoon managed to pin Rocket on his back, the wide body of the raccoon up in the air providing a target that with your SHIELD honed skills would be as easy as hitting a cow's ass with a shovel on a normal day. With your injury, however... well, you could still make it. You had to.
You took the shot. The crack rang loudly through the evening air and the raccoon fell off of Rocket and onto the grass, dead.
Rocket's attention turned to you as you lowered the shotgun and quickly approached him, he was about to snark off that he had it handled when you said in a firm but yet still slightly worried sounding voice, "Did it bite you?"
He sat up irritably but didn't answer. He didn't need you of all people to save him. He looked down at his body. There was blood, but it looked to be just the after spray from where you shot the animal. Terran weapons were clearly messier than blasters.
"Did it bite you?!" you ask more urgently.
He looked himself over. "No? What's it to you anyway? I had it handled!"
"Raccoons carry rabies, you dipshit!" you scold. Removing the other shell from the gun you tell him to get inside.
"I'm not a raccoon! And I don't have whatever rabies is!" Rocket shouted at you angrily. "And I don't take orders from you!"
You groan. You didn't have time for his bellyaching right now. "You utter gobshite! I'm not talking about you! I'm talking about that!" you point to the now very dead raccoon, and just to be mean you threw in a, "You know, that fucker there that looks exactly like your furry ass!" He glared at you but you didn't care. "They carry rabies! Now get inside so we can get you looked over and you better hope like hell it didn't bite you."
Rocket grumbled and started walking back to the house, making sure to complain just loud enough for you to hear that he was going because he wanted to, not because you told him too.
You follow behind him. You would dispose of the dead raccoon in a bit.
"That was an amazing shot." Drax told you as you walked by. "I was sure you would have hit Rocket."
"Not now, Drax, please." you say, walking past him.
You got inside to find that the gunshot had attracted an audience, and everyone else was now in the kitchen wondering what had just happened. You put the shotgun and shell back in the cabinet, making a mental note to clean it later. It had belonged to your father, and never saw much-or any really- use from you as there wasn't exactly a lot to need defending from, wildlife-wise, where you lived. Hell, you couldn't even remember the last time you had even seen a raccoon around before tonight, and even when you had you never needed to defend yourself from one. If you left them alone, they returned the favor.
You turn back from the cabinet and lock eyes with Rocket. "Now are you going to let someone check you over or..." you left the question hanging, your tone clear that there was no 'or.' He was going to get checked out. You tried to ignore the irony and your own hypocrisy.
"What happened?" Gamora asked.
"He got attacked by a raccoon." You answered.
Rocket indignantly spoke up. "I had it handled!" He heard Peter snickering and he snapped, "What?!"
Peter just shook his head and quipped, "Already fighting with family..."
Rocket growled. "Shut up, Star-Munch!"
"Table. Now. You need to get checked out. Quit stalling," you command, irritation and exhaustion present in your voice. "I'm not even kidding."
"So what if it did bite me? How bad could rabies possibly be?" Rocket snarked.
"What's rabies?" asked Drax.
You sigh and say flatly, "A very horrible way to die." You look to Peter, thinking that maybe you had a way to get through to Rocket, and ask, "You ever see Old Yeller?"
"Yeah..." Peter answered, though seeming slightly unsure.
"You remember what happens to the dog?"
His eyes widen a bit. "Yeah..."
"Then will you please explain to him why this is serious?"
Peter looked at an annoyed Rocket. "Dude, she's right. Just let us see."
Rocket rolled his eyes and hopped on the table. "Fine! But only to get you all to stop whining."
Peter checked him over, as it was silently agreed with a nod that Rocket would trust him more. While he checked Rocket you thought to ask if he was given any vaccinations when they got here. Peter said that everyone had, but they had been given so many that they weren't sure what they all were.
You knew that Fury should be stopping by the next day for a weekly check-in, and said you'd contact him to suggest a booster for Rocket just in case.
Luckily, Rocket was bite-free, and he gloated as much. "See! I told you! I had everything under control!"
You roll your eyes. "Right. That's why the raccoon had you pinned under it, then. Yeah?"
"Did not!" Rocket protested.
"Well you certainly weren't having a cup of tea, were you?" you said, the tone in your voice saying that you were done.
Drax spoke up. "It's true. The beast was winning."
"It was not!"
"Enough," you say. "Go get cleaned up. I'm tired of hearing you. "
After he skulked off Gamora asked, "Just out of curiosity, what would have happened to him if he had gotten bitten."
You avoided telling her. "He wasn't, but I'm going to take the animal into town in the morning to see if it was rabid. Just in case."
Gamora asked again. "What would have happened?"
You frown. You didn't know how to put it delicately, and the others could tell you were trying and it worried them. Your eyes meet Peter's.
His eyes widened in understanding. "We can't do that to him." Peter said, shaking his head.
Yondu spoke up for the first time. "Do what?"
You frown. "Just calm down. He wasn't bitten. We won't have to."
Yondu sounded more irritated. "Do what?"
You sigh and look to the ground for a moment before looking back up to answer, "If he had gotten bitten, and he hadn't already received a rabies vaccination..." You pause, choosing your words carefully, "the only merciful thing to do... would be to put him down."
"Put him down?" asked Drax.
You pinch the bridge of your nose. "Do I really need to spell it out for you?" You kept your voice down, afraid to say it too loud and for Rocket to hear. "We'd have to kill him. There's no cure, and if we didn't, he'd go rabid, and die horribly." You saw the horrified looks on the other's faces and repeated, "But he wasn't bitten, so that doesn't have to happen. He'll be fine. I'm just going to check with Fury that he was given the shot, and if he wasn't I'll make sure he gets one, just in case. Ok?"
They seemed to relax slightly and you stated that you were going to go take care of the raccoon corpse in your yard, mostly to just get away from the situation and hoping they would have dispersed when you got back.
You didn't even get to take three steps before you felt someone grab your arm. Luckily it wasn't your bad one. "What the hell?" you ask irritably, turning to see it was Kraglin, who had been so quiet the whole time you actually hadn't noticed him.
"I really don't think you should be doing that. If it was big enough to pin down Rocket, then it's too big for ya to be lifting with your arm injured how it is."
You sigh angrily and try to pull away, but his grip held firm. Strong for a skinny guy, you thought. "Let go." you say, irritation thick in your voice.
"No. If this is the only way for you to take it easy and let us help, then I ain't letting ya go til you agree to step back."
You look at the others and you can tell they aren't going to be on your side. You roll your eyes and focus them on the space above Peter's head, where you could see where the ceiling met the wall. "You can't help if I can't unlock the shed," you say, hoping to appeal to their sense.
"Fine," Peter said. "But I'll do the lifting. It's mostly my fault you got hurt anyhow."
"Fine," you grumble, just loud enough to be heard and for Kraglin to release you.
You lead the way out the door, Peter, and also Kraglin and Yondu who wanted to see the raccoon, following behind. Gamora and Drax stayed behind to make sure Mantis and Groot were ok, seeing that they looked a bit shaken.
You instruct none of them to touch the corpse and unlock the shed, turning on your phone's flashlight and pointing out an old box and a shovel to Peter.
"Wow, you've got a nice workshop in here," Peter said, noting the various saws and tools set up around the room that he could make out in the dim light.
You used to make things with your dad and brother growing up, and had inherited most of the tools inside, but instead of traveling down memory lane you just told Peter, "Another day. Let's get the raccoon sorted, please."
Peter obliged and grabbed the items so you could finish the task at hand.
Yondu and Kraglin were staring at the raccoon when you returned.
"Thought it'd be bigger." Kraglin said, cocking his head.
He was right. It did look smaller now that it was dead, but it was still a decent size.
Peter unceremoniously scooped it up with the shovel and dumped it in the box.
"We should probably keep that in the shed until morning," you said, "I don't want it stinking up the car overnight. I can wash the blood off the shovel real quick-" You reached for the shovel but Peter handed it off to Kraglin instead. You looked at them in annoyance. "I'm not helpless, you know."
"And it won't kill you to accept some help, girl," retorted Yondu, fed up with your stubborn attitude.
You roll your eyes and call after an already retreating Kraglin, "Try not to tangle yourself up in the hose this time!" You could see him bristle at the taunt, but he ignored you.
After everything was back in the shed and you locked it up everyone headed inside. The others were nowhere to be seen and you assumed they had all decided to just go to bed, in which you also followed suit, but not before sending a quick text to Maria (Yes, you had said you'd contact Fury, but Fury doesn't exactly text) asking about the vaccination situation surrounding Rocket.
You hadn't expected an answer so late at night, but she responded asking what had happened, correctly assuming that you wouldn't be asking unless something had.
You kept it short. Said you shot a raccoon and wanted to be sure Rocket had his shots.
She didn't respond, and you couldn't help but wonder if that was a bad sign.
#gotg#guardians of the galaxy#x reader#yondu udonta#peter quill#starlord#kraglin#pranks#gamora#rocket raccoon#raccoon#drama
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Doll Me Up (P.4)
Title: Doll Me Up (Part Four) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark Mob!Tony Stark. On good days, you and Tony were a power couple. You, a perfect trophy wife with your hands in local charities to promote a wholesome image. Tony, business man but sullied with organized crime. He indulged in his illegal gambling, extortion, and political corruption. And he indulged in his escort business. Hell, that is where he had found you. You were a brat, and he loved a challenge. Words: 2,965 Warnings: Unhealthy relationships, smut, daddy kink, dom/sub, manipulation, death, violence, possessive behavior
Part Three || Part Five || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost
Tony’s office was expansive, but you were in such a small space of it.
You had just gotten back from your honeymoon and he stopped by the office to grab some paperwork and you had trailed along behind him. As soon as he had closed the door to his office, he had grabbed your hand, forcing it to his crotch. One thing led to another and you found yourself tucked underneath his desk, your mouth wrapped around his balls as he stroked himself, his head thrown back against his chair.
“Just like that,” Tony panted. “Keep flicking your tongue like that, princess.”
There was a sharp knock at the door and the two of you froze. His door opened and your eyes widened at the prospect of being caught in this position. Tony was chill as a cucumber though, both his hands coming up on his desk immediately.
“Rhodey,” Tony said sounding surprised to see him and for good reason. You had only stopped in, not announcing you were going to be here. You breathed evenly through your nose but the feeling of it made his cock twitch, it brushing your face. He shifted at the even slight contact, hopefully unnoticed.
“Huh, you are here,” Rhodey said from over by the door. “Maria said she saw you come in. Aren’t you supposed to be on your honeymoon?”
“Just got back. Landed the helicopter outside actually.”
“Where’s Y/N?”
You were not moving, waiting for Rhodey to leave. Tony’s balls were still settled in your mouth as you sat suspended in the lewd act.
“Uh, went to get something to drink I think. She should be back. Just… stopped in to grab some stuff.”
There was a small pause, and you could only imagine the awkwardness exchanged in their looks.
“You alright?” Rhodey asked uncertainly.
“Perfect. Why?”
Another pause.
“No reason...” Rhodey said trailing off. “Well, you should finish your vacation. You work too much. Gotta make sure that you’re doting on the missus too.”
“Is the single man trying to give me relationship advice about my marriage?” Tony could not help but to quip.
Rhodey laughed and said, “Jackass. I’ll see you next week. Stay out of the office until then after this, you hear me? You’ll thank me for forcing that and so will Y/N.”
“Loud and clear.”
When the door closed, you sucked hard. Tony grunted in response and then a strangled laugh left his throat.
“Good girl. You’re so well trained,” he praised, guiding his dick to your eager mouth.
<><><>
You sat in the back of the car with Tony, your arms crossed tightly across your chest, staring out the window. You were not even trying to hide the tears trailing down your cheeks, thinking of how hurt Liam was in and the aftermath of it. Tony had been angry with you before, Cassandra’s party for one example. And you had both been inebriated which only exacerbated the situation. But him sober though and angry? This was a new experience. You felt a twinge of fear of if he had gotten it out of his system or if he had something else planned. He threatened punishment though, hadn’t he?
He was silent the whole way home, but you could feel the fury. He would not even look at you, sitting as far away as possible.
When Happy pulled into the garage and parked the car, Tony was out of the car quickly. You gathered up your bags before getting out of the car. Tony was striding ahead of you down the garage, not waiting for you.
You caught Happy’s eyes and huffed when he tried to take the bags from you. “I can do it myself, thanks.”
Happy’s hands fell back down to his sides and he looked miffed, but you ignored it, beginning to follow Tony. He stormed inside and was making a beeline for your bedroom. You were already tensing, thinking of the spanking you were going to get. You followed him all the same into the master bedroom and went into your closet to put your bags down.
When you turned back around, you found him looming in the doorway.
He let out a humorless laugh, breaking the silence the two of you had been suspended in. You bit at your cheeks, waiting for him to explode because you had seen him like this before; that manic type laughter.
Tony threw out his arms, “I just don’t get it, baby! I mean, are you really that fucking stupid? You thought taking a plane to another state – let alone city – wasn’t going to piss me off to high heaven? And you hole up in some hotel with some guy like some skank—”
“I didn’t have sex with him!” you interrupted him, offended.
He looked furious at your interjection. “Don’t interrupt me!” He took steps towards you, hands on his hips. “Why the fuck did he answer your phone?”
“I was in the bath! I was telling him to hang up!”
“Didn’t hear that. Odd.”
“Yeah, because it would sound really suspicious if you could. Like I had something to hide!” you said defensively. “He’s stupid but he’s harmless. He didn’t know it was going to piss you off so much.”
“Sure, nothing to hide. I mean you even said you loved him in front of me.”
“I say that to all my friends. It didn’t mean—"
“And then I tell you to come home,” Tony interrupted you now, his voice rising, and you felt it about to boil over. “And what do you do? You can’t even follow that direction even though everything is perfectly laid out for you. Perfectly! Every little fucking step of the way! All you had to do was listen. But no! You have to go and make it difficult for no. good. goddamn. reason!”
He bellowed the last, slamming his hand down on one of your dressers, making you flinch back. He was burning holes into you with how intensely he was staring at you and you folded, your eyes downcast, heat coming to your cheeks. You did not like it when he yelled, especially when it was directed at you. You were truly regretting stoking his anger this much.
“Tell me why, Y/N!” Tony continued shouting. “Tell me why you have to push my fucking buttons! Why can’t you just be good?”
“I’m sorry,” you said hoarsely, tears stinging your eyes.
Tony inhaled deeply, exhaling shakily. He turned on his heel suddenly, leaving you alone in the closet. You heard him slam the bedroom door closed as he left.
You stood in silence, not knowing what to do. After a few minutes, you timidly walked out of the closet, finding the bedroom empty. You shuffled to the bed, sitting down tensely, waiting worriedly.
He returned to the bedroom, the buttons undone on his shirt along his chest and at his wrists. You knew it was because he was getting ready to put effort into making sure you learned your lesson and he would need all the range of motion he could get.
“Go,” he ordered you.
You followed his direction without a moment’s hesitation, knowing he wanted you in the room behind his study where all your toys were. The door in the bookcase was already open and you scurried inside, him on your heels.
His next demand came the moment you crossed the threshold, “Strip.”
You did as he asked hearing him close the door behind him. Quickly, you were standing naked before him. He was barely sparing you a glance, not taking the time to acknowledge you and that cut deep.
“The bench,” he ordered tautly.
Dragging your feet only a little at his icy demeanor, your body shook in anticipation. You climbed up onto the restraint bench, feeling the air move beside you as he came to stand by you. You chewed on your bottom lip, your head hanging, staying still as he tightened the restraints around your wrists and then moved down to your calves.
He was still not speaking to you past the curt commands, and you heard him walk off. You did not dare try to lift your head to follow him, keeping yourself curled in as much as you could. You thought worriedly of what whip or paddle he was going to choose to dole out your punishment. You prayed it was not the ball chain because that one would hurt. He had only used that one to stimulate you, but you only thought now of how much that impact would hurt if he used his full strength.
His footfalls met your ears and you twitched, trying to will yourself to not tense up because that was going to make it worse.
The sound cracked through the room and you gasped, your toes curling. There was no massage or build up to get you warmed up this time. He was using the leather slapper, the triple impact increasing the hit. One you knew all too well, whether it be for pleasure or to teach you a lesson. He was able to be close with it too, increasing his precision.
Tony had not asked you to count, so you did not before the second blow hit. You hissed when the third hit and tears stung when the fourth landed directly dead center across your ass. He was leaving small breaks in between but not too long. The next hit lower near your thighs and you choked out a whimper; he had done that on purpose, he knew it hurt. The next was higher and you could hear him breathing heavier. He was putting his back into the hits.
The tenth fell finally and you almost breathed in relief when you heard him walk away from you. Your ass was stinging, and you thought miserably of the bruises that were to show up.
He only gave you a moment’s reprieve. Tony’s hands were at your calves, undoing the restraints and he did the same for your wrists. Changing positions was bittersweet; your muscles stretched but the pain on your backside caused you to wince. Your legs shook as he helped you to your feet and he pulled you along to beside the bed. You thought for a moment he was going to let you lay down and relief began to flood through you, foolishly thinking that it had not been so bad after all. But you saw the pillows on the ground beside the bed and the toy mounted on the ground.
“On your knees,” he said letting go of your arm.
You painfully lowered to the ground, resting your knees on the pillows – something he had thankfully considered, you fleetingly thought.
Reflexively, you began to lower to rest your head on your elbows to release some pressure from your legs and he snapped his fingers at you, “No. Up.”
You did your best to bite back a complaint, sighing pathetically instead. You kept your eyes downcast still, not sending him a challenge with meeting his eyes.
The toy slid in slowly and your fingers flexed on the floor as you adjusted to it. Tony was controlling it, the speed, the depth. It was shallow at first, working you up. He was pacing and you could feel his stare as he watched the silicone go in and out. He had ultimate control of how hard you were going to get impaled and a first row seat to watch. You did your best to stay in the same position that he wanted, trying to be good. This was without restraints, he wanted you to do it on your own, and you wanted him to forgive you.
Tony turned on the vibrator setting suddenly, and you keened at the sensation. It dragged across your clit, sending reverberations through you as the toy continued thrusting in and out. You were growing slick, relaxing into the movement the deeper it plunged. The dull ache was being overpowered by the tightening in your core with every brush against your g-spot. It was getting harder now to not push back into the toy for more stimulation to release and come.
Fidgeting, your breath was becoming short as you felt yourself spiraling towards release.
Tony turned the toy off.
You blinked, feeling sorrow at the quickly dissipating high you had almost reached the apex of.
His breath was hot on your ear, “If you come on this toy, I’ll put you right back up on the bench. You got me?” You nodded and he demanded, “Answer me!”
“Yes, daddy,” you choked out pathetically. “I understand.”
“You better,” he warned, straightening back up. “You’re not coming until it’s on my dick and until you’ve proved you deserve it and earned my forgiveness, you’re not getting me.”
He only gave you a few more moments reprieve before the toy turned back on. You bit at your bottom lip, trying to ignore the sensation in the toy’s movements now that you knew what the stakes were. He was pacing again and you could imagine his glossed over eyes as he watched the toy sliding in past your folds, taking in the redness on your ass that he had put there. Your chest was rising and falling as you moved to try to keep your thoughts anywhere but here.
Tony pushed you right to the edge and when it was getting hard to ignore it, he turned it off again to your immense relief. Your breaths were coming short and heavy, your arms beginning to shake. You just wanted to lay down.
He started it up again and you let out a small cry. Everything was going to be so sore.
The sound of him walking away while the toy was still thrusting, at a slower pace thankfully, drew your attention and you almost turned your head to follow him. You managed to catch yourself at the last second, swallowing sharply and forcing yourself to look back down at the ground. The pressure was building quicker this time with how worked up you already were, and you hoped he was not gone for long. You did not want to come undone and disappoint him. And you sure as hell did not want to be back on the bench.
It felt like forever but logically it had to have been a handful of minutes. The toy was still thrusting steadily, working you gradually towards an orgasm rather than rushing. You could handle this. You could do this. It was going okay.
Until it was not. The dildo increased in speed and you sighed, closing your eyes tight. You heard a creak and you hoped it was him returning.
Another change, it moved deeper. And the vibration.
“Daddy, please,” you whimpered, unable to help yourself.
You knew he could hear you if he was still able to control the toy from where he was. He had not completely abandoned you. Broken, soft cries left your lips as your fingers dug into the floor, willing yourself to try to keep yourself from tumbling.
A gasp of relief exploded from you when the toy turned off. You heard the door open fully again and you sniffled, visibly shaking on your arms now as the toy retracted.
Tony’s shoes appeared in your line of sight and he swooped down, helping you stand. You were weak in the knees, letting him guide you. You mournfully watched the bed disappear from view as he moved you along towards the door back to his study. Where was he taking you now?
Hope blossomed at the sight of the light on in the bathroom down the hall. And your wishes were answered: he had drawn up a warm bath and you almost cried.
“There’s Epsom salt in there,” he told you stiffly.
“Thank you,” you said immediately.
He did not respond and instead put his hand in the water, testing the temperature. “It should be fine now.”
Lowering into the tub, you hissed half in pleasure feeling the warmth and half because of how sore your ass was, touching the bottom of the tub. Slowly, you relaxed, relishing in the tension release that was provided by the salts. Your eyes followed Tony freely now as he walked out of the bathroom.
When he returned, he had a pair of pajamas that he placed on the counter, before shooting you a look.
“Don’t stay in too long. It’s almost 2 in the morning. You need to sleep,” he said sternly. You nodded feebly and his eyes swept over you once before he turned on his heel and left the bathroom again.
<><><>
You woke up with your head buried in your pillow, your arms tucked safely underneath it. You had opted to sleep on your stomach, relieving the ache in your ass. You spotted that Tony’s side of the bed was still empty, which meant he had not come to bed. The bed felt cold without him, even though you were snuggled far underneath the blankets. Maybe he had slept in another room or on the couch. The thought of that only made you feel guilty.
You got out of bed, wincing at having to sit up to stand. Your leg caught as you moved, and you took a moment to stretch as much as you could. You pushed the button next to the window, opening the heavy curtains, letting the sun come in. Squinting against the light, you stared out over the ocean.
A couple of minutes of fresh air might do you some good, you thought sleepily.
Your hand fell onto the balcony door, the handle reading your fingerprint to unlock.
F.R.I.D.A.Y echoed over the speaker, “You are not authorized to open this door, Mrs. Stark.”
~~~
Forever tags: @coconutqueen21
Fic tags: @kvzctam, @farihafangirls, @teenageregression, @mrsnegan25
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trendy [hcs]
someone (@yourlocalsinnamonroll hi again!) sent me a request a Long time ago asking me to do more gen z headcanons, and i have been working on this on and off for Months. this is something that i’ve had on my mind for a long time, and it most definitely can be associated with/attributed to gen z.
this isn’t sfw so Minors DNI, but for a fleeting, wonderful period of time, there was a trend on tiktok that went, “buss it, buss it…” are you familiar? that should be enough of a summary, right?
anyway, once again, for my peace of mind, minors dni, and reader is g/n as usual, enjoy!
[a/n: so because this is so long, this part is going to be, like, the actual headcanons, and then the backstory i have for this will be right here]
lucifer
“intrigued,” would be the best word to describe how he was feeling. it didn’t cover the full spectrum of emotions that washed over him, but it was definitely a start. he started forming coherent thoughts after the fifth loop, but that's his business🤨
for one, he was upset. you mean to tell him that you could dance like this the entire time, and you—first of all, you never offered to do it for him, or on him, and you know his obsession for you would increase tenfold he has an appreciation for dancing of any and all kinds. you were depriving him, and for what reason, exactly? have you never been acquainted with shame before?
second of all, not only were you keeping this crucial information from him, but you told everyone, at the same time. why can't he ever have anything for himself? he should relax— it's not too big of a deal, he's not too hurt because he'd have you to himself soon enough.
well, really, right now. he is suddenly in dire need of entertainment, you understand. he just called you to tell you to come to his room, and he would be a liar if he said he didn’t like how nervous you sounded.
mammon
can everyone, like, get out of hell for a few minutes? he needs to be alone. the video is on its nth loop. he's laying face down on his bed, trying to recover from the siege you just put him under—how dare you?
you're supposed to be his—his cinnamon apple, his human, his everything—and you sent this to the group chat? is nothing sacred? is nothing in this world for him alone? what is wrong with you, genuinely? most importantly, why haven’t you ever even offered to dance with him?
really, he's hurt. betrayal of this magnitude is bound to sting, so it shouldn’t come as a surprise.
now, the pain of your treason aside, that was very easily the best thing he’s seen in a decade. before he collapsed face-first onto his bed, he was watching very intently, for at least two full minutes. he was actually so invested that questions didn’t form in his mind until, like, the tenth loop—but that was neither here nor there. now that he was recovering from the bomb you dropped, he had half a mind to go to your room and interrogate you among other things.
unfortunately for you, he really only operates with half of his mind anyway, so he was already out the door. however, you have nothing to be afraid of. as we know, mammon is a man easily crumbled. all you have to do to disarm him is ask him if he liked it.
levi
he knew.
he didn’t know, like, exactly what was going to happen after he helped you trick out your d.d.d, but he knew it was gonna be fucking Something.
he didn't even get through the video, actually—the beat dropped, so did you, and, suddenly, his phone was across the room. his face was a deep crimson, and his thoughts were barely coherent, but he was already out of his bedroom.
simply put, he knew his brothers. he knew at least two of them would be on their way to you soon enough, but they wouldn't get there before him. he knew what he was going to do before his thoughts were fully formed. he'd get there, he'd bring you back to his room, he'd hide out with you in one of his cursed games—he would help you. if the two of you went slow enough playing it, everyone would have calmed down by the time you got back, right? right.
was he being a bit dramatic? of course not! you would be safest with him, tucked away from his brothers until he was certain they wouldn't try anything. you know them, you know how they get, right? he'd never do anything like that unless you wanted him to. you are his best friend, and, really, he owes you this safety. this is at least twelve percent his fault.
satan
oh. oh, wow.
now, how many times did he watch that video? he doesn't know, he wasn't counting. he wouldn't tell you even if he was. he needs to maintain some kind of dignity here—not that there was anything undignified about being attracted to you, of course. it was just, well, you know—he was better than his brothers.
in general, not when it came to you, but, even still. he's at a level of self control that they can't even conceive. now, have you been slowly, but surely, ebbing away at his centuries of hard work? yes. did this video put something of a dent in his poise? yes.
but, in all honesty, it was fine. satan was smarter than all of his brothers, more patient—you know, better. he knew exactly how he would go about this.
he wouldn't talk to you about this tonight, tomorrow, or the next day. he would play a waiting game, lure you into a false sense of security—and then, when you think you can trust him, when you think he's forgotten or just wants to show you mercy—then. he would come for you then. just wait for him.
asmo
miffed. he was miffed. like, arms crossed, tapping his foot on the floor, shaking his head—miffed. once he was done staring at his screen for five minutes, he had about seven bones to pick with you.
first of all, why didn't you come to him if you wanted to do your makeup and pick an outfit to film in? he's not saying you looked bad—believe him, he was staring for a reason—but you would've looked so much better if you let him style you. second of all, you had the absolute gall to make something like this and not invite him to join you? you're a villain. no, really—
but what really got him—what really drove him up a wall—was the fact that you never even hinted at the fact that you could dance like that. why did you keep such crucial information from him? he wasn’t even gonna think about the fact that you had yet to do it on him, it would be too much for him to process at once—your audacity would become palpable. he should really calm down, getting this upset is bad for his skin.
now that he’s thinking about it, you were wearing a full face of makeup. it hasn’t been that long since you sent the video, you’re probably still wearing it, right? well, he wouldn’t be a good friend if he didn’t help you take it off! he knows he was a bit peeved a few minutes ago, but, well, that was a few minutes ago! now, as he reflected on his initial reaction to your video, he was in a forgiving mood. he was already on his way to your room to help you with undressing unwinding, and, admittedly, to tease you a little a lot—he thinks you’re cute when you’re flustered.
beel
he was more confused than anything, honestly. he wasn’t feeling jealous or betrayed like his brothers, nor was he feeling possessive at all. he was just confused, for a few reasons.
first was the fact that everyone in the group chat was yelling at him. all he did was send an emoji of a fork and a knife, and everyone was on his ass all of a sudden, like he was the one who sent the video. he was the only person with their priorities straight, and there was lucifer, trying to scold him via text message, which only furthered his confusion. he was an adult, and he was fully allowed to have an appreciation for the finer things in life, up to and including your dancing skills.
he was careful to relay his message in a private chat, not thinking too much of it. he would’ve given anything to see your reaction, but he wasn’t cruel enough to go to your room minutes after you sent it. he could easily do it tomorrow.
this, of course, brings him to his second point of confusion. he really doesn’t get why you decided to do this on camera instead of on his face on top of him, but, like, to each their own. he’s content with the fact that he even got to see it, but he feels like he should still let you know the offer is there.
belphie
first of all, you're already here, but for the sake of malice—go to hell. he was about to go to sleep, you absolute heathen. second of all, because he lost time he could've spent sleeping, you're going to have to take some responsibility and atone—immediately. he had a (correct) feeling that you wouldn’t be willing to come up to the attic, and he wasn’t willing to compensate for that by going to your room.
this was, while a bit annoying, perfectly fine. it was late, it was a school night, you were undoubtedly going to sleep within the next hour or two. he would know once you did, such is the nature of the avatar of sloth, and then, he would pay you a visit while you were dreaming. nothing to be nervous about, don’t worry, he just had a few questions.
the first question being, why, exactly, didn’t you just unsend the video when it was so clearly sent on accident? that’s not to say he didn’t enjoy watching it repeatedly, but he was quite curious. whatever—it’s not like everyone is going to know it was an accident, anyway, and he’s glad no one told you about that messaging feature. he uses it on lucifer all the time, but that is neither here nor there.
the second question being, now, given that it is so clear that he is a bottom, why did you never—
#G O D#this took me so fucking long#this is the price i pay . for having no brain#now i can focus on the other creations in my dumb little drafts#like god intended#anyway here go the tags#obey me#obey me scenarios#obey me headcanons#obey me imagines#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me levi#obey me satan#obey me asmo#obey me beel#obey me belphie
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I'm not really sure how long these are meant to be. "Right, I'm pretty sure that's called trauma".
Trauma Bonding, (a Jason Todd x Reader)
Warnings: Language.
Genre: Fluff/angst/comedy/romance
Authors note: This prompt is perfect, thank you @aethers-stuff ! Sorry it took me so long to write! I hope you like it. ♡(: _______________________________________________
Dick watched you two from the kitchen.
Jason was seated on one end of his livingroom couch and you on the other. You were talking loudly, gesturing with your hands so much that you looked like Italians at a family gathering. You were both exceptionally expressive and extroverted people on your own, so when you got together, the room's volume was always raised a noticeable few notches.
It was endearing, but a real headache when it went on for too long.
Dick massaged his temple. An extrovert himself, he felt the need to jump into the conversation, but he knew better. You and Jason would simply not shut up long enough for him to get a word in when you were both really on a roll, and Dick didn't feel like expelling that much energy. Plus, he was curious to see where this would end.
“...That’s ridiculous Jason”.
You crossed your arms.
“There is no way in hell you're dying your white streak black.”
He raised his hand from the couch armrest in exasperation.
“I wasn't even asking you.”
You arched an eyebrow.
“You should've been. The white streak stays. It's your trademark. If you're concerned about me being right, I dare you to ask everyone to vote.”
“Hon, I am not in the practice of asking people if I can or can't do things.”
“Luckily, you never ask me my opinion so you don't have to worry about breaking your pattern just yet.”
“...You never keep it to yourself, so why would I even bother”.
Dick shook his head. You were like an old, emotionally constipated couple and it was amusing to observe.
“Just kiss already”, he said under his breath.
You turned your head towards the kitchen, hearing him faintly, but almost unintelligibly.
“Dick, did you say something? Sorry, we're arguing here, I hope we're not too obnoxious”.
“Hey don’t throw me under the bus with you, I was just trying to have a moment of quiet meaningless thought when you started playing hair cop,” Jason quipped.
“Hush.”
“Right back at you”.
“-Both of you shut up for a minute. I didn't say anything”.
Dick rolled his eyes.
“However, we do have patrol in an hour, and Bruce sent me some weird instructions.”
“Weird how?”
You tilted your head in curiosity.
Jason glanced at you, and huffed a little. He couldn't help himself. Despite himself, he found you really endearing. Especially in moments like this when your lips were pouted in confusion and....”.
Dick snapped Jason out of his brain fog.
“Jay. Buddy. Try to pay attention.”
“Wasn't not doing that,” he grumbled.
“Then what did I just say.”
The two brothers shared a childish battle of glares.
“...fine, you made your point. I was dreaming about this whisky I saw in the manor the other day”, he lied.
“Ok. Very in character, Jason. Now, the mission is-”
“...looked decadent. It was really old and had this fancy label on it that-”
“...Guys. I can hear you from the other room”, Tim walked in looking miffed.
There was a pause as all three of the human boom-boxes stared blankly at the intruder.
“...you’re a detective, Tim”, Jason deadpanned.
“Ugh, Jason...that’s not the... just shut up.”
Tim pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose.
“Did you all get the mission briefing?”
“Somehow, Jason didn't”, Dick fumed.
“Alright, fine. Basically, Jason, you, and Y/n are staying back tonight because you're the only ones who haven't been seen yet in the city, and Bruce wants to save you guys for an undercover mission next week”.
“What?!”
You both looked at each other in disgust.
“I'm not working for the bat anymore!”
“Yeah, and I've never even started to work for him! He can't just expect us to be at his disposal and then bench us!”
“Guys, relax. He's just doing this so you can have a better element of surprise later. You're both really valuable, ” Dick reasoned.
You and Jason paused, your egos begrudgingly satisfied.
“...fine”.
“Fine”.
“Good. Ok. So everyone suit up”, the oldest brother concluded.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Jason was irritated.
He found you interesting. Really interesting. Usually, he dealt with his fear of vulnerability by acting too unbothered to care, but you intrigued him so much that he struggled to keep his mouth shut around you. He was afraid to get too close to you; he would lose you eventually like everyone else.
But, he knew so little about you, despite all of the banter. A talent you both possessed, was chattering without disclosing any actual information. You had only met each other two months ago, and usually it would take both of you longer to warm up to a new person, but there was just a feeling. You were kindred spirits. He wanted to learn more about you, despite himself.
“So what brought you here”.
“Here as in what brought me to dress up and punch criminals as a nightly routine, or as in what brought me to be in an alliance with Bruce Wayne that I'm now regretting?”
There it was. Those were the kind of responses that made Jason feel just enough on his toes to be uncharacteristically comfortable with you.
“Take your pick I guess.”
“Bruce Wayne it is then. I'm not really a fan of my life story”.
“Ttt, ” Jason laughed, taking a page from his youngest brother’s book.
“I'm kind of an accidental friend of Dick’s. We met first at the Bludhaven police station, I was there for...pfft...I was just there, ” You paused with a laugh.
“He helped me out, and we didn't see each other again until he ended up working with me anonymously for info on a case as Nightwing years later. We both just figured out each other's identities and he brought me on a mission once where I met Bruce. And Bruce is a convincing prick so now here I am, somehow under his command”.
“Sounds about right. So when do we kiss?”
Great. Now he sounded like an asshole.
Jason looked at you, gauging to see what your reaction would be. He’d half said that last part by accident, but now that he’d acted out of impulse he knew he couldn’t take it back.
“-What?”
“When do we kiss? You heard Dick”.
He was really committing to his blunder now.
“Yes, and I ignored him and smoothly got him to change the subject. Besides. You're not my type”, you lied.
Jason was in fact, exactly your type.
“What is your type?”
“Shit”, you thought.
“Hmm. I like people who I can chase that don't actually like me, and then I eventually get to give up. It makes it easier”.
You admitted this in a tongue-in-cheek manner, but you weren't really kidding. Something about Jason’s persistence made you want to open up, despite your usual habitual wall-building.
“You're like a fucking mirror; you know that?” Jason laughed.
He knew you weren’t kidding because he’d said things along those lines millions of times.
“Your point, Mr. Therapist? People hurt people. I kind of prefer to enjoy relationships from a distance at best”.
“Right, I'm pretty sure that's called trauma”.
“Call it what you will, but it's a good way of not getting even more mentally busted up than an already fucked vigilante”, you grinned.
“Nice.” he smirked.
“You sound as dumb as me”.
“That’s a little low don’t you think? I’m only half as dumb as you at most, but yeah. Fine. We share some things”.
“What’s that supposed to mean Princess,” he smiled.
He felt himself get exited a little. What you had just said made it sound like you felt you two were similar just as he did.
“That I think we’re both stupid people that have really stubborn hearts that get us into trouble”.
Your heart was beating so fast. You hadn’t meant to say that much.
“Now who’s the therapist”, he said in a low voice.
He leaned in closer to you a little, testing the waters to see if you were just being a little cautious, or if you actually weren’t comfortable. He felt like you were just being scared like he always was deep down, but he didn’t want to push you if it was only going to cause you both more pain.
He was a little scared too. You scared him. Not just because you were powerful and beautiful, but because he actually liked you. He wasn’t used to that. But he knew himself, and when Jason Todd does something, he can’t do it half way. If you were in this too, he knew he’d do anything for you, and that was terrifyingly vulnerable.
As he leaned in, your breath caught.
“Fuck”, you thought.
His eyes were stunning.
You hadn’t let yourself notice how much until now.
“Jason…”
“...Todd why are you about to taint Y/n”.
Jason spun around.
“Damian!” you yelled.
The small Wayne was standing in the doorway.
“Shortstack, you are too young to be using a fancy word like taint”, Jason recovered.
Tim and Dick emerged behind Damian in the doorway.
“What’s going on?” Tim asked.
“Todd was just about to be disgusting with Y/n in front of all of us”, Damian smirked, crossing his arms.
He knew he just set up Dick to take a fit.
The oldest brother was not pleased.
“Jason, really? Damian is right here and you didn’t think to chill?”
Jason rolled his eyes.
“We didn’t do anything Dicky. The kid here is being a drama queen. The only thing he walked in on us doing was some good old fashioned arguing”.
Jason knew he was making himself look like a major...well...dick, but he knew you wouldn’t want to commit to the family knowing about anything that might be going on between you two, however small just yet.
Dick rolled his eyes, and the three brothers walked in the doorway and into the kitchen to get water. You and Jason were always an entertaining spectacle for sure, but patrol was tiring, and they all needed to cool down.
Jason looked back to you. You were looking at your feet with your arms crossed and a barely contained smile on your face.
“The kid has good timing,” he huffed with a laugh.
“Oh fantastic”, you gazed at him, laughing back quietly.
“So, you want to talk some more about trauma?” He asked in a playful, but matter of fact tone.
“Maybe sometime, Red,” you smiled.
You turned and walked away.
“She’s gonna make me work for this”, he thought.
It had been so long since either of you had met your match, and you both were going to thoroughly enjoy this.
#writing requests#dc#jason todd#red hood#batfam#dick grayson#jason todd x reader#jason todd fluff#jason todd fic#jason todd funny#jason todd fanfiction#asks#dc ask game#batfam fic#batfam fanfic#jason todd fanfic#red hood fic#red hood funny#red hood fanfic#red hood fluff
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With a Smile | Part II
pairing: all might x f!reader
summary: After all, he deserved to be selfish sometimes— and frankly so did you. It came with the wait, didn’t it?
content: toxic relationship, manipulative reader, 18+, size kink, fwb
[part one] [part two] [ao3]
word count: 3.1K
The day he was injured by All for One was a disorienting day for you. There was a weakness to his form whilst he laid on the hospital bed, his hair in disarray and bandages covering his injury. Sir Nighteye had already left hours before you came. You stood by his side and held his hand, and it was only when he opened his eyes and turned to you did you realize how they now sunk into his skull.Your Toshi was a skeleton of a man you once knew. His pretty blues obscured by the shadows of his own face.
He smiled, nonetheless.
You frowned.
“M-my powers aren’t strong enough to help this Toshi,” you said. You couldn’t help but stutter over your words— always a bad habit for you, one you thought you’d outgrown long ago. Once again, he brought out the worst in you even wrapped in bandages and in a state beyond repair.
He smiled still.
“Toshinori,” you had said softly. “How can you smile… Even like this?”
The two of you were lovers only physically, but you were damned to let it stop you from caring for him— even if you couldn’t help but feel bitterness in your heart for his selflessness.
He only looked back at you with an upward tilt of his thick brows and said the words that always managed to dig a knife deeper into your chest whether you heard it in person or through your screen.
“Because I am here,” he said— and you wished he meant it was with you.
A sick part of you hoped that his injury would mark the retirement of the symbol of hope, but he continued his work much to your contemptment.
It made you feel guilty for reasons that you’d never share with anyone.
As the next few years went by, you watched his body crumble. Once big and strong, he’d gone thinner to a point where he was practically skin and bone due to his new diet because of his (lack of a) stomach. Miraculously, he was able to create a muscle form for himself for short periods of time— much to your annoyance. The world didn’t notice any changes, but they were all you could see. His speed was just the slightest bit slower, his voice raspier, and frankly it always seemed he had to punch more in order to knock out a particularly tough villain.
Your bedroom habits didn’t change much, but you felt that he couldn’t bear to look at you without seeing his own mangled reflection in the pools of your irises. His thrusts were still slow and sensual, his breaths more ragged and his hands less adventurous. On some occasions, it was as if he were looking at you with disgust whilst he rutted his hips into your cunt.
At first— it hurt.
But it wasn’t until a few months after his accident did you realize his disgust was towards himself; it took years, however, for the two of you to address it.
Your fingers danced around his narrow collar bones in fleeting touches. Your eyes were shut knowing that if you stared into his drenched face long enough he’d turn his head, dipping it into the cusp of your shoulder. You liked knowing that he was holding himself over you, the feeling of his short breaths and whispers coming from above. It was boring at times, but you loved being encased in his arms. In fact, over the years he became an addiction to you; you prayed that he would suspect such.
A few things had changed now of course, considering his new form. He was still just as tall but tired more easily now. Though now you found yourself able to wrap your legs around his hips and bring him deeper into you— much to both your delights. His narrow hips allowed him to fit more snugly between your legs than in the past which you can admit was always an awkward issue.
You were calm, welcoming the stretch of his cock inside you until you felt him push deeper. A awfully loud moan escaped your lips in an almost surprise and his hips jutted into you harshly for a few strokes. He ceased his movements and pulled out suddenly. You shivered and clasped your legs shut as you felt the cold air reach your wet core.
“Toshi?” You asked tentatively, reaching an arm out to the hero who’d turned his back on you.
“Why?” He asked. A million answers flooded through your mind in response to his question, all under different assumptions of what he could possibly be referring to.
“Because I need you more than they do, and I’ll take you in any way I can.”
“Why what?” Your tone was playful. You moved to lay on your side, the blanket only working to shield your lower half. For a few moments he didn’t reply, instead choosing to gaze towards the window wistfully.
“I’m disgusting,” he said curtly. “I’ll make you disgusting too.”
If you had half a mind, you would’ve said: You already have .
“How can you possibly be disgusting Toshi?” You asked, feigning a miffed tone. You didn’t want to confront this, not today at least— you wanted more time.
You could feel the air stiffen as he stood up, his face obscured from view. His shirt, that he always insisted remained on, obscured his upper body but you could still see his narrow shoulders visibly tense from your question.
“Don’t play coy with me, Y/N,” he whispered. “You know exactly what I’m referring to. I’m barely even a man anymore; I don’t know why you stick around anyways.”
“Where’s this talk coming from Toshi?”
“Just s-stop avoiding it!” He snapped harshly. His tone was lower than you’d ever heard it. Toshinori still stood before you, but his obscured irises were focused only on you. For once you couldn’t tell where the disgust for himself ended and yours began.
You could feel your inner thighs slicken with wetness from his cruel eyes alone.
“What do you want me to say Toshi?” You asked. “Do you want me to mock you? Tell you that you’re no longer good in bed? Or- or would you like me to go off on a self entitled rant about how I wasted my life on a man who’s been reduced to his weakest?” Your words were harsh and perhaps he didn’t deserve it for his words today, but your anger was a build up of emotions you allowed to fester since you were just a young girl.
“Is that how you really feel?” If you had the foolishness to feel more valuable than you were, you’d kid yourself into believing that you’d broken him.
“No Toshi,” you said honestly. Your voice was quiet and soft, on a different night he would’ve compared it to honey; but you knew that the words brushed against his ears like sandpaper. You were standing now. Your breasts pressed against his shirt, hardened and straining against the rough cotton fabric. Your head moved to rest just under his shoulder, even at his lowest he still stood tall. “But that’s only because you were always weak,” and with that your hand moved to caress his stunned face. Your fingers traced over the slopes of his cheekbone and jaw before it descended to his chest, planted fondly over his heart.
Even at your most cruel, you couldn’t help but feign as his lover.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t understand,” he replied and you wanted to mock him. Your words were daggers and even when you pierced his heart with them, it was as if it was in his nature to take the pain and wonder if it healed your own.
“You’ve never fucked me once,” you whispered.
“What?”
“You always treat me like your fucking lover!” You shoved at his chest, and even in his weak form you knew that the way he stumbled back on his feet was out of respect. “After years and years, you hold yourself back— like you’re afraid of your own passions. No— that’s not it. You want to prove to yourself that you’re not just some force of destruction, and you use our time together as some form of escapism from all the destruction and carnage you choose to deal with every day.”
“I don—“
“No,” you stopped him. “Don’t act like I can��t see it in your eyes— that I can’t feel it inside me; you always held yourself back from me, to feign tenderness and weakness because your strength was your insecurity. And now that that very might is fading, you can’t help but want to prove you’re still that man who can destroy buildings with the flick of his finger.”
“You’ve always been so full of these delusions you’ve had of me, Y/N,” he said calmly but you could tell his words were strained due to the shortening of his breath. “I’m not as complex as you believe me to be… And if your words are true then if nothing is holding me back, what’s stopping me now?”
“The moment you stop the tender caresses, the loving whispers, and slow breaths is the day you admit to yourself—“ and to me “— that that man is dead.”
He left your room shortly after, and this time you were left unsure if he’d return.
His second battle with All For One left a mark on everyone. That was one of the things you had slowly begun to resent about Toshinori; you could never truly mourn him alone. His retirement announcement was what left the most of an impression on you— All Might had stepped down after decades of victories, and five harrowing years of being tormented by an injury that you could’ve dug your fingers into and truly ended his career.
His visit a few days after the victory was what truly did you in, however.
You had only opened the door when his body effortlessly dove down to press his lips to yours. In your state of surprise, you gasped allowing his tongue to push against yours. Instinctively your arms moved to circle around his shoulders. You couldn’t recall a time where his actions were this frenzied, and his shaking so feverish. You felt Toshinori’s hands squeeze your ass and shove you closer before sliding his digits under to cup your thighs. Following his hints, you leapt, your legs moved to circle around his waist, his fingers dug into the back of your bare thighs, your shorts had long since ridden up.
Questions buzzed around your head as he stumbled with carrying you— something that was never a problem for him in the past. You knew that if you spoke anything you said would sway him; you weren’t ready to lose him again. You barely noticed he had managed to hold you long enough to bring you to your dining room. A moan of pain crept out of your throat as he carelessly dropped out onto your wooden table, the thin table cloth doing nothing to protect your elbows as they made contact with the hard surface. You couldn’t help but look to his eyes, as if to check if he was bothered by your discomfort. Typically any form of pain you expressed would be enough to halt his movements; the idea of hurting you in any way was just always too much to bear.
His breaths were shallow when he finally removed his lips from yours. You couldn’t be sure if his ragged pants were from the strain of overworking himself or his rabid need; for now you didn’t care.
“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” His large hand moved to squeeze your jaw tightly. You didn’t speak— you felt embarrassment at the way your cheeks squished under his fingers. “You just want me to treat you like a whore, don’t you?” His fingers squeezed particularly tighter, and in spite your moan of pain you could feel the familiar sensation of arousal pooling in your lower stomach.
With no regard for your comfort, the retired hero flipped you onto your stomach. Your ass and legs sticking out from the side of the table as he harshly grounded his clothed cock into you. The force caused your pelvis to painfully dig into the wood of the table. Though the pain wasn’t enough to distract you from the feeling of Toshinori pulling down your shorts. With only a shaky sigh escaping your lips, his fingers harshly groped your cheeks, spreading them roughly before shoving his fingers into your core. A gasp of pain shot out of your lips, the intrusion only making your hips to dig further into the rough wood.
You felt like a mess. You were panting uncontrollably as his large fingers fucked into your gushing cunt. To gain some control, you planted your elbows on the table, to lift your skull only for Toshinori to remove the hand that was gripping your hip. He shoved your head down without the slightest sense of hesitation. His fingers were thick around your head, his other one girthy inside your cunt, their speed quick as they dug into you whilst thrashing around in scissor motions. You could feel the familiar sensation bubbling deep inside you, but it was happening too soon, and it felt like too much all at once.
“I-it’s too much Toshi,” you managed to gasp.
Then it all stopped.
Your core was replaced with only emptiness, and all the moments where he halted because he had gone too far and ceased his movements played in your head. You wished you hadn’t opened your mou—
“A-agh!” The stuttered moan tumbled out of your lips repeatedly. You could feel the veins of his cock pulse inside you whilst your hips dug into the table.
“Is it too much now?” He mocked, and you could practically feel him harden more as he drilled himself into your wet cunt. His hips repeatedly knocked you further into the table. The wet slaps of your bodies colliding nearly obscuring the sound of the wooden legs scraping your floor. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”
You only moaned, his thrusts only increased in pace, and his hand only held your head down harder as his fingers curled through your hair. “I want you to say it— say that you wanted me to fuck you dirty.”
“N-no,” you managed to say before a particularly hard thrust caused an embarrassingly loud squeal to escape your throat.
“Say it!”
“I ne-needed you to f-fuck me—d-dirty,” you gasped.
“You’re disgusting, ” he raved. “Allowing yourself to be fucked by someone who looks like me… You’re so pathetic.” At his words you could feel his cock reach a particularly spongy spot inside you, tapping and tapping it repeatedly. A familiar bubbling sensation returned as continuous moans jumped out your throat. “I can feel you getting tighter— ack,” he paused in his words to rut deeper into your heat. “You’ve been chasing me fo-for years, hounding me for this, getting fucked by your washed up hero .”
You felt yourself clench, squeezing your cunt around his cock as he kept up his pace. The sensation of your pelvis rutted against the table turned numb, you could only feel him stretching your walls, and the curl of your toes as he brought you closer and closer to your peak.
“You’re more pathetic than I am.” His words were raspy, you could practically feel his tongue on your ear as he had pulled you back by your hair and lowered his lips to say the words you’d been thinking since you first laid your eyes on him. Your cunt pulsed as it squeezed around his cock, sucking him in deeper. Your moans only grew louder as you came, squirting down his balls and likely staining your panties that had only been pushed to the side.
Toshinori had only paused, and allowed for the feeling of your orgasm to clench around him before continuing his thrusts. A low groan bubbled out of his throat from the feeling of your tired cunt milking all its juices. It wasn’t long before he chased his own high, his release shot deep into you. Its warmth fluttered into your lower stomach, and suddenly you were hyper aware of the pain in your abdomen. When he finally pulled out and allowed you to stand on shaky legs, you felt the pain from the table intensify. You groaned before leaning back on the table, pulling your tank top up to inspect small bruising from the repeated slams.
Before you could even think to use your quirk to heal it, Toshinori’s hand gently caressed your lower belly tenderly before bringing you closer to his chest. Rather than shake him off and remind him of your ability, you allowed him to hold you and rub you softly. Perhaps you both shared the same comfort that came with pain.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. His expression morphed into one of resentment, it was as if he gained clarity— or his words were simply out of obligation. “I didn’t mean to go too far… I-I hurt you… and those awful things I said… No woman should have to hear.”
“Well I wanted to hear it,” you replied. Slowly you turned, his hand resting on your hip, “I loved that side of you… Now that you’ve officially retired, perhaps I could see more of it… And of you.” Your (s/c) fingers danced over his chest before wrapping around his neck, pulling him down towards you.
“I-I could set more time aside in my schedule for us,” he stuttered. An adorable blush coated his cheeks as you brought him closer. His nose kissing yours whilst you only hummed in reply. “I want to make up… for all the time we should’ve spent together.” His words were now only a murmur, a ghost of the man who had just fucked you and left bruises over your thighs and stomach from his roughness.
“I would like that,” you whispered.
The words you wished to say were crushed down your throat as your lips met. Gone was the feral passion, and instead in its place were love and words that had long since turned empty for you. It took you years, but you knew, you always knew that one day you’d be the only one he could turn to when it came to little deaths.
As he caressed your waist and held you close to his heart, you couldn’t help but brush your fingers over the fabric that which covered his scar. A swirling tunnel of black and green, your fingers hovered over it for a moment before sliding up to feel his heart beat. Years of patience led to this moment, and the guilt subsided— but you knew it would always eat away at your stomach like a wound, just like his.
“Toshi,” you said. “I should be the one saying sorry,” (because I lied to you all those years ago). He only shushed you, and held you impossibly closer.
“My...” quirk... I thought you would’ve retired... “I hoped...” for it... I’m as selfish as you are selfless...
“Shush Y/N,” he cooed softly. “It doesn’t matter now, what matters is we’re here— nothing holds me back from you... I love you; I always loved you.”
“But,” you paused— you thought better on it. Stilling your ragged breathing, you inhaled his scent before rubbing your cheek into his chest. “I love you too...”
“I know...” He murmured. “I know... It’s okay...” His words caused you to pause— something shifted in your stomach and for an instance you wondered if the pain paralleled his own. A digging in your gut; one you may have deserved. No— he couldn’t have known, and if he did... it didn’t matter now. You finally had him in your arms— even for just this moment.
After all, he deserved to be selfish sometimes— and frankly, so did you.
It came with the wait, didn’t it?
—
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#all might x reader#all might#yandere#all might smut#bnha smut#yandere BNHA#toshinori yagi x reader#kirietownwrites
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serendipity
summary: spencer cannot wait to propose, but you accidentally beat him to it (spencer reid x fem!reader)
word count: 5k
warnings: some language! some minor angst!
author’s note: this is 100% based on one of my favorite episodes of new girl (google doc name is winston bishop type shit), also this is mega self-indulgent so if u don’t like dinosaurs and/or ferns i’m sorry :/
You let out a satisfied hum. Everything was quite nearly perfect. Presently, you were sitting on a bench next to the little duck pond in the park by your apartment, and you watched as tendrils of the weeping willow grazed the surface, sending gentle ripples across the water. It seemed to glow in the dappled sunlight. An adorable duck family was nestled into some of the reeds, and your heart was happy as you watched the mother tending to her ducklings. This was your favorite spot in the entire city.
“Hey, Spence?” Your head rested on his shoulder as he read one of the Ray Bradbury novels that he loved dearly. You weren’t sure which one he was on now; he’d been determined to read his entire collection this weekend and had been flying through.
“Yes, dear?” His eyes didn’t leave the pages, but you didn’t mind.
“What do you call a group of ducks?”
“There’s a couple names actually. It can be called a raft, team, or paddling; it’s a matter of preference.” Finally, he shifted his gaze toward you, and he couldn’t help the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. The flush of your cheeks and the wisps of your hair, he was so incredibly enamored, he loved you so much. And he was so excited to let you know so soon, but not quite yet.
“I think I like paddling.”
“Yeah, me too.” Shutting his eyes to revel in this moment, he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head.
“Hey, Spence?”
“Yes, dear?”
“Do you wanna get married?”
What.
Spencer floundered in the absolute contradiction of feelings that he found himself submerged in in that moment. Ice flooded his veins, and his face heated. His blood pressure skyrocketed, and oh God, it’s not supposed to happen like this. Yes, he loves her terribly, and yes, he absolutely wants to marry her, but he had a plan! An incredibly intricate and thoughtful twenty-two step plan that was going to take place over the course of the next month. It was all laid out in an entire binder in his desk. All he could muster in response was an extremely eloquent, “Uh—well, uh—”
Oblivious to his inner turmoil, you finally lifted your head to look at him with the biggest heart eyes he’s ever seen, and he can’t help but feel so, so guilty. “I just thought, why not, you know? Spencer, I love you a whole lot, and I’m pretty sure you love me a whole lot too. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and I want the rest of my life to start right now.”
“No.”
Judging by the look on your face, that was clearly not the answer you were expecting. “No?”
“Uh, yeah, no.” God, stupid dumb idiot, telling the girl you want to marry that you don’t want to marry her. What’s the point of having 187 IQ points if you use exactly none of them when it actually matters?
“No, you don’t want to marry me?” Your heart dropped into your stomach and was falling further and further every passing second.
“Wait no, hold on—”
“No, I get it,” you choked out, hastily standing up from the bench. “Actually, I don’t get it, but that doesn’t really matter, I guess.” You jammed your arms into the sleeves of your jacket, so you could get out of this moment as soon as humanly possible. Holy shit, had you been blind-sided. “Um, I think I’m gonna go hang out with Penelope, might spend the night, I’m not sure. Enjoy your book.” And with that, you were speeding down the path out of the park.
“Wait, (Y/N/N)!” Spencer tried to gather his belongings to run after you, but you had a head start, and he couldn’t gather all of the books in his arms fast enough. Leave the books!!! Go after her!!! But you had already turned the corner and were out of sight.
With his books finally secure, Spencer sprinted in the direction of your shared apartment. He needed to fix this. And fast.
———
Morgan sat at his desk peacefully looking over the plans for a house he was renovating when the phone rang, and he couldn't help but internally groan at the sound. If Hotch is calling on his weekend off, so help him God, he would hang up and chuck the phone out the window.
Instead, he was met with Garcia’s voice, which was so loud he had to pull the phone away from his ear. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, mama. Let’s take it down a few notches.”
“Alright, fine, babycakes,” she hissed, and Derek was shocked at the unfamiliar venom in her tone. “Would you please be so kind as to explain to me why your dear friend Reid is the most evil, most reprehensible, most despicable—”
“Garcia, what are you talking about?”
“You mean that little rat boy hasn’t come crawling to you explaining his crimes?”
Despite his infinite patience for her antics, he sighed quietly. “I’m in the dark, baby girl, but I’m sure whatever Reid did, it can’t be that bad.”
“Oh, it can be that bad! He told (Y/N) that he didn’t want to marry her.”
“He did what?” Derek’s eyes were practically popping out of his head at the news. There’s no way that happened.
“He said that he didn’t want to marry our precious lily flower (Y/N)! I love that boy, but now, (Y/N) is here bawling her eyes out on my couch, and I don’t know what to do!”
His heart broke a little at the thought of his friend being so devastated, but he couldn’t help the roaring confusion that plagued him. Derek knew that Spencer was planning to propose to you; he’d seen the binder. He’d even been recruited to help with Steps 4, 9, 10, and 18!
Oh.
And that’s when Derek had a sneaking suspicion as to what had occurred. “Penelope, were his exact words ‘I don’t want to marry—” But his attention was drawn away from the phone by a knock on the door.
Speak of the devil….
“Garcia, I gotta go, but tell (Y/N) everything’s gonna be okay. I’m gonna have a word with our boy.”
“Oh my God, is he there with you?! That little bastard—” He hung up before her words could become any sharper, and the knocking became frantic.
“Okay, okay, I’m coming!” He jogged to go unlock the door. “You’re gonna knock the door down, kid.”
The door swung open to reveal Spencer, huffing and puffing with a red face and a binder in arm. “Morgan, I am the stupidest man to ever walk the Earth.”
“Did you run here?”
Ignoring the question, he pushed past him with an agitated step. “I am a complete idiot, a dumbass, if you will.”
Morgan shut the door and crossed his arms, walking to stand opposite Reid who had sat on the couch with his head in his hands. “Yeah, I might agree with you on that one. Garcia called me, told me (Y/N) is crying on her couch ‘cause you told her you didn’t want to marry her, which I know is not true.”
“I didn’t say that!” he cried, gesticulating wildly. “Not exactly. She asked me if I wanted to get married—”
“And what did you say?”
His hesitation was palpable. “...No.”
“Yeah, I’d say that constitutes dumbass behavior, especially because I know you only said that because you have your proposal all planned out, and you want it to be perfect.”
“Morgan, you don’t get it,” he implored, the desperation evident in his eyes, and Derek finally started feeling a little bad for the kid, an inkling of sympathy squirming in his gut. “No one deserves the most perfect proposal more than (Y/N). No one. You know how she’s always felt unwanted, and she’s told me that she felt like she always has to ask for love, and I couldn’t let her feel like that with me. I had to make sure that she had a special proposal because she’s special. And I want her to know without having to ask that I want her more than anything else in this world.”
Reid looked down at the toes of his scuffed Converse, hoping that he hadn’t permanently fucked up his best chance at happiness, and Morgan’s expression softened. “I know, kid. And I’m not trying to rub salt in the wound, but you do know that this was not the best way of letting her know that she’s wanted and loved?”
“Yes, I know, Morgan,” he muttered, voice breaking around the slug in his throat. “I wasn’t thinking.”
A sigh. “No, you weren’t. But I’m gonna help you fix it.”
Reid looked up with wide eyes. “Really?”
“You both deserve to be happy...even if you make some pretty stupid choices sometimes.”
Reid didn’t think he’d ever felt so grateful for his friend, and he offered a smile in gratitude. “Thanks. But I don’t even know where to start.”
Quirking an eyebrow and returning with a grin, Morgan picked up the binder from the table where it had been set. “I’ve got a couple ideas.”
———
“How is she doing?”
“Erm, it’s not looking great,” Garcia responded.
She was openly hostile when Reid had called her (he’d never been on the receiving end of Garcia’s wrath (so few people had been), and he was sure that was something he never wanted to experience again), but she’d finally restrained herself and offered a little empathy (not a lot though, she was too loyal to (Y/N) for that) when he had explained himself. However, when she’d been informed of the plan to apologize, regain your love and trust and to maybe, just maybe, ask for your hand in marriage, she had wholeheartedly avowed her support and pledged her help despite still being a little miffed at boy genius’ idiocy.
“She’s been sitting on the floor of the bathroom for an hour listening to Landslide on repeat and crying, so I would say she’s, um…not well.”
Spencer winced at that, and he felt physically sick at the thought that you were hurting because of him. His heart clenched unbearably, and he wished so badly that he could take back his words and just say yes, but unfortunately for him, time is linear, and he was just going to have to do his best to fix things.
“I just need a couple more hours to get everything ready.”
“Well, hurry up, pretty boy! I love our girl immensely, but if I have to hear Stevie Nicks mourn the passage of time and love one more time, I will lose my mind.”
“Garcia, please, just be patient.”
She groaned. “You’re lucky I love you.” And with that, she hung up.
———
You huffed a sigh, clutching to your chest a shiny pink pillow covered in sequins and giving Garcia the biggest puppy eyes you could muster. “Please, Penny, let’s not go out to dinner. Let’s just stay in and order Cheesecake Factory; you love Cheesecake Factory!”
“You’re right I do, but I love you more, and right now, you need to get up and get some fresh air!” The almost excessive amount of peppiness in her voice and her refusal of Cheesecake Factory was slightly suspicious, but you didn’t really have time to consider it as she dragged you up off the couch and to the door.
“Okay, counterpoint: what if you went out for dinner, and I stayed in and wallowed in self-pity?”
By the look on her face, you knew your evading tactics were not going to fly. She tutted slightly and said, “You’ve got to know I can’t let you do that. I’m legally obligated to stay with you until you feel better, that’s the deal when you’re friends with me.” She grabbed your coat, holding it open for you.
Reluctantly, you sighed and slid your arms in, grumbling, “You’re too nice for your own good.”
“Well, that’s very sweet of you, but let’s get a move on!” And with that, she herded you out the door.
———
It was a nice dinner, the two of you out on the town, and for a while, you were granted the solace of distraction. Garcia took you into the city, and somehow it felt a little easier to breathe there under the streetlights amidst a bustling Saturday night crowd. You nestled together in some street corner diner, ordering an absurd amount of food and jabbering on about anything and everything. If she noticed the moments when you fell silent, eyes distant and glassy, (and she definitely did), she never said anything; she just offered a new topic and redirected you from the very sad place that was thoughts of Spencer. And you would latch on eagerly, seizing the opportunity to forget.
So, you spent the evening with late night waffles and french fries and milkshakes and the unending source of cheer that was Penelope Garcia, and by the end of it, your mind didn’t immediately redirect to that morning’s tragedy, which Garcia would define as a success. Together, you found your way back to her car, and you tumbled into the passenger seat, your eyelids immediately fluttering shut. Penelope grinned and drove off.
When you woke again, you were engulfed in bewilderment and not just the regular post-nap disorientation. “Penny, why are we at the National Mall? This is the opposite direction of your house.”
She tapped her acrylics on the steering wheel and nervously surveyed the street in front of her, trying to escape your prying gaze. “Uh—no reason!”
Too exhausted from your day of grief and distraction to be suspicious of her terrible lying, you leaned your head back against the seat, watching the glow of the streetlamps as they roved over the interior of the car.
Garcia seized this movement to set the next part of Reid’s plan in motion. “Hey! You know, what’d be fun is if we went to the Natural History museum! There’s nothing better to cheer you up than dusty old dinosaur bones.” (She didn’t necessarily understand the appeal, but she was trying her best.)
A small chuckle escaped you. “As much as I’d love that, it closed at nine, so we wouldn’t even be able to get in anyway.”
Garcia’s mind thundered furiously as she tried to come up with some way to get you in that freaking building. “Let’s just walk past! Take a peek through the windows, see what we can see!”
Something in you sensed that she wasn’t going to let this go, so you relented as she finagled some sort of street parking that was definitely illegal. You could barely get your seatbelt off before she was dragging you the stone steps, the massive corinthian columns looming. You squeaked a quick Penelope! and tried to keep up. Entirely ready to give up and head back to the car when she tried the door, your mouth fell open in shock when it gave way with ease.
“Oh, look! It’s open! Let’s go inside.”
She didn’t wait for you to respond before she was ducking in the building, and you followed, completely and utterly baffled. Stumbling into the atrium, you were met by a receptionist at the desk. She smiled warmly, “Miss (Y/L/N), I presume?”
You nodded slowly before turning to Garcia whose devious smirk was undeniable. “Penny, what is going on?”
She grabbed your hands and looked at you with tears in her eyes. (Where the hell did those come from?) “Just remember that you’re a very forgiving person, and that sometimes the smartest of us can also be the most stupid.”
Furrowing your brows at that slightly cryptic message, you went to respond when the receptionist stood and said, “If you would, miss, please follow me.”
And so you walked with this stranger through the empty halls, the click of her heels echoing. It was odd to see a space that was normally flushed with people completely empty, and you studied the walls as you walked. “Um, may I ask what’s going on?”
The receptionist grinned, “I’m sorry, but I’m under strict instructions from Dr. Reid to not reveal anything.”
Strict instructions from Dr. Reid. You gasped a little at that, and your thoughts raged with possibilities of what Spencer could possibly have planned. If this was an elaborate attempt at an apology, you were a little overwhelmed; the little dispute this morning absolutely did not necessitate a response of this degree. Sure, you were disappointed, and you needed time to deal with it away from him, but you weren’t mad at him, not really. You had talked about marriage and knew that it was something you both wanted, but you had never discussed when. If he wasn’t ready to marry you quite yet, that was fine; you’d adjust. You were pretty sure you’d wait a whole lifetime for him. Besides, you had sprung it on him quite abruptly, and you knew Spencer and that he was not always well-equipped to deal with monumental change, and how could you blame him for that? You’d wait as long as he needed.
“Here we are!”
Her words broke you from your thoughts, and you looked up to realize you were at the Hall of Fossils. (You had always been fond of the dinosaurs.) Glancing at the girl, you asked, “What do I do now?”
She laughed a little at that. “Just go inside. Take a look around.” And with that, she turned around, leaving you to wander the exhibit.
So you ambled easily through the prehistoric relics and fossilized memories of a past Earth. It was rather haunting, the eerie silence and the illuminated dinosaur skeletons. You peered down at one of the explanatory plaques and instead found a blue post-it note. COLD. A grin wormed its way onto your face, and you jogged a little to the next plaque. GREENHOUSE GASES—WARMER. Spencer was always one for a game. So you zig-zagged through, collecting post-its. GLACIAL PERIOD—COLDER. CRETACEOUS WARMING. EOCENE KIND OF HOT!
With the last note, you looked up and gasped yet again. Spencer was standing in a sea of different plants and flowers placed throughout the central clearing, and donning his signature tight-lipped smile and your favorite of his cardigans, he gave you a small wave. “Hi.”
“Hello.” Your response was breathless, and now that you had met his eyes, you couldn’t tear yours away. A weight lifted from your lungs, it was such a relief to see him, and you hadn’t realized how much you had missed him in the hours you spent apart until you could breathe properly again. “Fancy seeing you here.”
He chuckled at that, but the tension in his shoulders never released; he was clearly anxious, but for what reason, it was hard to say.
An amusing gleam in his eye, he replied, “Same to you.”
“How did you get into the museum after hours?”
He took the moment to examine the toes of his shoes, replying delicately, “I have friends in high places.”
“Ah, Dr. Reid, I always forget that you ruled the world of academia before your time fighting crime.”
He paused for a moment before continuing. “Do you remember our first date?”
You gave him a tender smile, and his racing heartbeat eased ever so slightly, you just had that kind of effect on him. “Well,” you began, “I remember you were wearing that cardigan, the one that I love, and I was so nervous I thought I was going to pass out—”
“I was definitely more nervous. I was so anxious I forgot who Carl Sagan was at one point.”
“I’d forgotten about that!” You giggled at the memory. “But I remember being in this room, and we were making stupid dinosaur puns, and I believe I told you that you are dino-mite….”
He nodded meekly with a subdued grin. “I think that was the moment I fell in love with you.” Meeting his eyes once again, you felt the wind knocked out of you. The utter honesty you found radiating from his soft golden irises hurt your heart, and it was impossible to not believe him. He fell in love on the first date, how sweet and lovely and perfectly Spencer is that?
You took a breath and began to walk closer, skimming a hand over the lush greenery around you. “You know, the last time I was here, I didn’t remember there being so much flora.”
As if he had forgotten the miniature forest that surrounded him, he surveyed the plants surrounding him. There was a sea of succulents and ferns and honeysuckle and peonies and almost every other plant under the sun. “Yes, they’re a new addition. And if I recall correctly, it seems that lots of your favorites have made an appearance.”
“It does appear that way.”
He reached out to gently lift one strand of a nearby fern. “I believe you’ve mentioned before that you would ‘take a fern over a flower any day of the week.’”
“That would explain why they seem to be taking over the windowsills of our apartment.”
“True. Did you know that in the Victorian floriography, the fern represented sincerity and humility? So maybe if somebody had made a stupid mistake and they were trying to let someone know that they were really sorry, they might give a fern to say that they know they were being an idiot and they felt really bad for what they did.”
You laughed airily, “No, I was not aware of that fact.”
He closed the gap between you, reaching to tuck an errant lock of hair behind your ear. He simultaneously managed to pull a small bouquet of purple-ish flowers from thin air, causing more laughter to bubble from you. The laughing is a good sign, he thought, grinning. Keep going! “To really drive the point home, they might also give some columbine which represents foolishness.”
You looked up at him, your expression bright. “Oh man, this guy feels really bad.”
“Yeah,” he agreed before his words took a more somber cadence. “Yeah, he does.”
Your face softened. “Spence—”
“Um, before you say anything else, (Y/N), I just need to let you know how sorry I am for this morning. I love you so, so much, and I never want you to doubt that, and—”
“Spencer, slow down. Really, it’s okay! I’m not mad.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re not angry with me, but it’s not okay because you still deserve an apology. A good apology. So,” he took a deep breath, “I am so very sorry for my actions and for letting you think for even a second that you’re not the most important thing in my life, and I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you that I want to marry you when you asked because I do. I really, really do.”
Something warm and elated simmered in your stomach, and you beamed at him. “I’m glad because I wanna marry you too.” But before you could get too caught up in the moment, you remembered your earlier thoughts. “I don’t want to push you in any way, though, or make you commit to anything before you’re ready because marriage is kind of a big deal, and I’m happy to wait. Spencer Reid, I’d wait for you forever.”
“I don’t want to wait.” He shook his head and began digging in his pocket.
Your eyes widened in shock and spluttered, “Spence, seriously, if you’re not ready—”
“I am ready.” Finally, he found it and pulled out a small velvet box, looking you dead in the eye. “(Y/N/N), I have been planning this for so long because I wanted it to be perfect for you. You deserve nothing less than the absolute best, and I wanted to give that to you.”
His admission gave you pause. “Wait, you’ve had this planned?”
“I’ve been planning this for months! This isn’t me trying to fumble around and fix my mistake. I have a binder and everything, you can ask Derek. That’s the only reason I said no!”
“You said no because you had a binder for your proposal plan?” you teased.
You both broke out into laughter at that.
Recovering his breath and trying to suppress his ever-growing grin, he said, “No, that’s not why. The only reason I said no earlier is because I needed to show you how much I wanted to say yes. You deserve the best, you deserve every star in the sky and every beautiful thing on this earth, and I wanted to make sure I gave that to you when we decided to spend the rest of our lives together because I want to be enough for you.” Trying to swallow around the slug in his throat, he continued, voice breaking slightly. “This is me giving you all the love I have to offer. You’re it for me, (Y/N). And frankly, I don’t want to spend another second without you.”
He settled on one knee and opened the box, looking up at you with the gentlest gaze and a pounding heart. The wetness of your eyes matched his, and you gave him a watery smile. “I’m saying yes now. I would really, really like to marry you, (Y/N/N), if you’ll still have me.”
“Of course, you absolute dork.” Yanking him up from the ground and grinning like a madman, you grabbed his face and pulled him in for the messiest kiss. He clutched your waist and held you as close as he could possibly manage. (His desire to never be parted seemed to be coming to fruition in the sort of melding of bodies that was occurring.) Clashing teeth and knocking noses, it was hard to settle things when neither of you could stop beaming. Overwhelmed by the complete and utter joy bubbling up in his chest, Spencer hugged you tightly before spinning you in a circle, both of you devolving into boisterous giggles.
“Wait,” he murmured. “I forgot to give you the ring, I still need to seal the deal!” To which, you responded with another peal of laughter (something he thought he would never tire of hearing), as his trembling fingers floundered for the ring.
“I’m pretty sure that’s not how it works, but I’ll take it either way.”
He finally secured, and taking your hand in his ever so gently tenderly, he slid a glimmering emerald on your finger.
“Oh, Spencer, it’s beautiful.” He let out a sigh of relief. With light confusion, you asked, “What’s the sigh for, handsome?”
“I know you wanted a special ring, but when I went ring shopping with Derek, there was nothing I thought you’d like, so I special-ordered one from this shop that was going to be your size and everything, but that ring wasn’t going to be ready for a couple weeks. So today, when I knew I had to propose tonight, I ran to that vintage store you love and came across this one, and I thought you’d like it, but I wasn’t sure it was gonna fit, and—”
“I love it,” you looked at him, trying to will him to understand the depth of your sincerity. “And it fits perfectly!”
“How serendipitous.” He thought his face was going to split in half, he was smiling so wide. He couldn’t stop looking at the ring on your finger. How could one silly little rock make tears well in his eyes? Nonetheless, the sight of it made his heart race and his stomach churn with unrepentant butterflies because looking at it, he knew the girl he loved more than anything else on the planet, his favorite person had chosen to spend the rest of her life listening to his rambles and laughing at his jokes and sitting next to him by the pond in the park. The listless dream that had seemed so hopeless and romantic finally came to fruition in that shiny green stone, so no, he would not stop staring.
“Indeed,” you mused, subtle and irresistible risibility fizzing in the silence that followed. You contemplated for a moment before asking, “What do we do now?”
A thoughtful frown graced his lips, and then he shrugged. “We have the museum until midnight. We could just wander for a bit.”
Your eyes widened to the size of dinner plates and you tugged on his sleeve, your excitement palpable. “I’ve always wanted to be in a museum when no one’s around at night! Oh my god, Spencer, it’s just like Night at the Museum!”
He quirked a brow, and a sly smirk turned up the corners of his mouth. “Does that mean I have to protect you when the dinosaur skeletons come to life?”
You scoffed, “Please, we both know that I’d be the one protecting you.”
Another devolution into giggling. It seemed to be your thing tonight.
“Fair enough.”
“Also, do we get to keep all of these plants?” His eyes remained glued to your flushed face as you peered around the room. He wasn’t ashamed to admit just how besotted he was, shamelessly beaming at his fiancée.
“I bought them for you, so yeah.”
“Sick! Our apartment’s gonna turn into a little greenhouse!”
He extended a crooked arm to you, to which you looped yours in his and proceeded to set off on your museum adventure. You learned your head on his shoulder as you walked, completely and perfectly and incandescently happy.
“Hey, Spence?”
“Yes, dear?”
“I love you very much.”
“I love you too, dear.”
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid angst#spencer reid#anyone else obsessed with winston bishop?#i'd die for him#also can anyone tell that my fav literary device is polysyndeton#bc i feel like i use it way too often :/#actually i don't care!#bc i love it#also i counted three allusions in this bad boy if u find them all u get extra credit :)#jkjkjkjk#i hope all of the three people awake rn enjoy this
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