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entitled-fangirl · 3 months ago
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The Warden's fears.
Cregan Stark x wife!reader
Summary: the reader is unable to give Cregan a child, and he reveals why.
Warning: talks of sex, childbirth, death, crying, guilt, etc
A/n: I've never seen anyone do this concept, so I gave it a shot!
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"My gods, what's the matter?"
Y/n sat on the foot on their bed, her eyes puffy and red with tears. She sniffled and wiped her eyes, "I didn't hear you enter, husband."
Cregan let out a light scoff, hating her answer. She only responded coldly when something greatly bothered her. He shrugged off his cloak, throwing it to the side, "That is not an answer."
She wiped her face again and her shaky voice broke, "What am I doing wrong?"
He tilted his head, "Doing wrong? My girl, what are you talking about?"
"Eleven months, Cregan. Eleven months and still no child."
Oh gods. 
Cregan felt his stomach drop to his feet. 
"I… I didn't know you wanted a child so desperately, my love."
She looked up at him with a horrified face, "Why would I not?"
He let out a breath, cursing himself silently. He kneeled in front of her and took her hands in his. "We already have Rickon. He may not have come from your womb, but he is all I need, my love."
Y/n was Cregan's second wife, his first, Arra Norrey, dying in childbirth. Cregan was devastated at her death, but a few years later, the cold Warden's heart was warmed by Y/n, and they married soon after. 
Rickon was a sweet boy, and Y/n was quick to step into a mother role for him when she married the boys's father. Now almost five, he was growing into his father's shoes more and more each day.
Which brought them to now.
"But my duty is to give you children."
He immediately shook his head. "No. No, nothing of the sort. I… I don't need more children."
She tilted her head in confusion, "You're the Warden. You… you need more children. I… I am to give you children, Cregan. And I can't."
"That's not true!" He argued. 
"Then why is my womb still bare despite our devotion to it?"
Cregan's cheek flushed completely. "Do… Do you think I only bed you to fill you with my seed?"
"Well… not entirely."
He forced himself to take a breath. "I lie with you because I wish to. Because I love you."
"Will you still love me if my womb remains dry?"
Pain erupted behind his eyes.
How could she think that? That he'd leave her?
Because of his own doing, this was entirely his fault.
His grip on her hands tightened. "I… I must confess something to you, my love."
Her eyes flitted up to his, still puffy and red, but at least the tears had paused.
"I… I have kept myself from filling you with child."
"W…what?" She managed to whisper out.
"I did not know that you wished this so desperately. I am very sorry, my love. I did not mean this as a secret."
She sniffled but no words came from her lips as she waited for the entirety of his secret to be exposed.
"I have been drinking a tea from the maester on the nights I believe we'll lay together."
Her jaw went slack. 
"I did not know you wanted a child so badly. That you think yourself only worthy to me if we have children."
She pushed him back as she stood, moving to leave. 
But he was quick, standing and grabbing her wrist.
She spun, beginning to hit his chest as sobs wracked from her body, "HOW COULD YOU?" Hit. "YOU'VE LIED TO ME!" Hit. "AND YOU LET ME BELIEVE I WAS THE PROBLEM!" Hit. "How long would you have let me?" Hit. "I hate you!"
He intercepted her hand this time, his grip strong but not one of pain, "Listen to me." His voice was low, "Will you do this?"
She hiccuped lightly as she stared up at him. Finally, she nodded.
"I took the tea because…" He let out a soft sigh. "Arra died in childbirth. I had nightmares of it every night. Her cold body in my hands, switched for the warm one of my son." 
His eyes watered but he continued, "The nightmares stopped when I met you. And when we wed… they returned. Only... they were different. Changed. It was you dying in childbirth."
Her eyes softened. 
He never spoke of his first wife to her. He hated the reminder of what had happened.
"And so… I take the tea. To keep your womb bare because I.." His voice broke, "…I cannot live knowing I could make the same mistake twice."
"Why did you hide it?" She asked softly.
"It was not purposeful. I figured… you did not wish to see your husband in such a state. Or truly believed that I did not wish to bed you. Or have a child with you."
"But you don't."
"I do," he argued. "I want a child. But… I will not put you through the trials of the creation of one. So, we won't." 
His hand trailed down to her stomach, tracing lightly, "To think of your swelling with my child, growing by the day, only to die once on the bed. I can't bear it."
She thought for a while of what to say. She wished she was mad at him. But how could such a burly man proclaim his fears only to have his wife mock him? She couldn't bring herself to.
"That was noble."
His head snapped up to look at her, "Was it?"
She nodded, "You care for me. You put your manhood aside to keep me safe."
He bit the inside of cheek, "I have."
"Thank you."
His eyebrows raised at her proclamation. "You're truly thanking me? When I should be begging your forgiveness?"
Her gaze softened and a hand came up to his cheek, "I do wish you'd have told me. But I cannot fault you for your fears. I'm suppose to ease them."
"How do you plan to do so?"
Her head tilted, "Have you taken the tea lately?"
He nodded.
"Then let us test it."
A fire lit behind his eyes, "Oh, we've tested it quite often, haven't we?"
A mischievous smile moved across her face, "We have."
His lips moved her hers, a mere brush. "Forgive me for making you feel unable to perform your duty," he whispered.
"What is my duty then, my lord?"
He smiled against her lips, "Being mine."
A laugh came from her, "I'll do my best then."
"Aye. You're already quite good at it."
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@misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @callsignwidow, 8812-342, @nyxbranwenn, @thorins-queen-of-erebor, @kingdomzeldaquest,
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buckyalpine · 3 days ago
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Warnings: 18+ dub con, smut, Dark Bucky, breeding kinks. I want some Dark twin Bucky. Jealous twin Bucky. Manipulative, sexy, mob boss twisted Bucky. His brother James is everything good, everything wholesome, everything perfect. James had everything in life, the nicest house, a respectable job, the sweetest wife. Oh, how sweet his wife was.
Bucky couldn’t care less for the perfect reputation his brother had nor did he care for the money, he had so much more. More power. More control. The only thing his brother had that he wanted for himself was you. His brother didn't value or care for you for what you were worth, always working, focused on business, leaving you in the large house all by yourself. Bucky would have never. Not if he had you.
Loving, gentle, soft as silk.
Pure, untainted, everything he wasn't.
He had to have you.
"Babydoll"
You smiled hearing your husband enter your shared bedroom as you got out of the shower, wrapping a fluffy towel around yourself before going to greet him. He sat at the edge of the bed with a knowing smirk, shamelessly eyeing you up and down like he always did, your cheeks heating up under his watchful stare. You loved how much he adored you. He strode over, humming at the scent of your body wash, his nose trailing up the column of your neck, pressing soft kisses to your skin, his hands wandering to the edge of your towel.
"Miss me, baby?" He pulled it off, letting it pool to the floor leaving you bare before him, picking you up and laying on on the mattress, you were so perfect, pliant, he could already smell your arousal, your nipples pebbled against the cold air begging for his warm mouth.
"moy kotenok" He purred, nipping at your earlobe, your brows knitting in confusion, he never spoke Russian to you, only his brother-
“James?” You squeak, your heart starting to beat rapidly, blood running cold. This wasn’t your husband. You tried to scramble away, cover yourself but he grabbed your wrists in his hand, pinning them above your head. You then noticed the dark ink that peekd beneath his shirt, his telltale silver chain slipping out and dangling above your face. Your husband only wore his wedding ring, you tried so hard, unable to move his heavy body off you.
"Bucky-Bucky get off, what are you doing-
"Taking what should be mine, kotenok, showing you what being loved by a real man is like" He crawled off you, thighs spread wide kneeling in front of you. "He doesn't know what you deserve printsessa"
He shoved your legs apart, holding them from squirming, your twitching pearl amusing him. "S'been long, hasn't it, you say you don't want me but that swollen button says otherwise, what if I-"
He spits onto your clit making you cry out, a rough calloused thumb coming down to flick it to his hearts content. Your body jolted at the sensation, it was wrong, so wrong, God it had been so fucking long...
No.
"Bucky st-stop" You hiccupped as he moved faster, he could see your slick dampening the sheets, his idiot brother didn't know what he was missing.
"Why would I do that, hm? Look at how your body responds to me, you want this. Gonna get you so pregnant, bunny” Bucky smirked, giving his thick bulge a squeeze, making a show of shamelessly palming his erection. “Y’wouldnt even know who the daddy is”
He doesn't waste a second pulling his cock out, grinning at the way your cunt welcomes him home despite your futile protests. You scratch at him between moans of pleasure, your legs wrapping around his tapered waist. He pounds into you with purpose, he wants his child in your belly, he couldn't wait to see his brother dote on you not knowing any better.
He got harder thinking about your breasts leaking with milk as you got bigger, milk to feed his baby, milk to feed him. He'd find a way.
"Gonna put my child in you printsessa, give you my baby, show you where a man puts his cum, you'll take it won't you bunny, such a good housewife"
"No-No you-you can't oh God!" Your body shudders as pleasure and guilt washes over you, clinging onto him for dear life as he fucks you through your orgasm.
"That's right, cum for me, he can't make you cum like I can, don't think I haven't heard you with him, look at you, just a slutty little mess, you smell of sex kitten"
He intends on making the biggest mess in your pussy, needing it to drip onto the sheets you sleep in. You'd stay wrapped up in his essence while it leaked out of you, his sperm exactly where it needed to be, right in your belly-
"Get ready kitten, get ready to take it, fuck-squeezing me so good, tell me you want it, I know you do, m'gonna cum so hard for you princess, just for you, all this-fuck-do you feel it, s'all for you, SHIITTT" He roared, pumping you with the stutter of his hips, the headboard slamming against the wall as he emptied himself, shamelessly moaning into your neck.
The next 9 months would be interesting.
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sinofwriting · 5 months ago
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Raised to Love - Max Verstappen (Dark Fic)
Words: 6,992 Summary: Drivers are shocked to find out that pretty much rookie Max Verstappen is married. Note(s)/Warnings: This fic is DARK! Taking place between 2002-2017. There's child abduction, mentions/talks of death, mentions/talks of underage sex, mentions/talks of sex, mentions/talks of periods, dubious consent. Jos is both somehow a better and worse person in this. Sophie and Jos are still married, Victoria and all of Max’s other siblings don’t exist. Inspired by Season 4 Episode 13 of Criminal Minds.
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2002
Tears are slipping down her face and she keeps rubbing at her eyes, small whines leaving her, but they won’t stop and her mom isn’t rubbing her back, trying to get her to calm down, her dad isn’t holding her and she cries harder. She wants her mom and dad, she wants them. But they aren’t here. She’s alone and in this room that’s cold and blank and she wants them.
She hiccups, eyes hurting and her hands can’t keep rubbing, tired of doing it. Sniffling, she turns on the small bed, burying her face in the pillow, even though her mom always tells her not to do it before turning her over. The tears fall faster now. She wants her mom. She wants her dad.
And now all she can think about is them sitting in the front of the car, completely still, not responding no matter how much she shouted or kicked at the back of her dads seat. How she was pulled out of the car through the window by a firefighter and how another one was talking about how her parents were dead.
They couldn’t be dead though, because her grandparents were dead, in heaven, her dad had told her. And they had been talking to each other just a minute ago. They were going to get dinner and candy because she had been a good girl. That thought had made her curl up in the firefighter's arms, lip trembling, because she had been shouting and kicking the seat, she had been naughty.
And then when she got to the hospital, a nice nurse had given her candy despite her being bad and held her hand as another one cleaned her up. She even let her pick out a stuffed animal to have. It was okay, even though she kept asking where her parents were until another lady had come in. She had crouched down in front of and told her that her parents were dead.
She shakes her head at the memory of the lady's face and her words. She didn’t want to believe that her mom and dad were dead. But they weren’t here, they should be here. They wouldn’t ever leave her by herself, alone, and in this room.
Lifting her head slightly, she sucks in a large breath of air, the pillow soaked in her tears and warm. As she takes another breath, she doesn’t hear the sound of the door opening and shutting.
She wants to bury her face in the pillow again, but her nose hurts from it and it’s gross and wet. Turning over, sits up, her small legs going up to her chest as she presses her back against the wall. It’s then that she notices the man in the room with her.
She stiffens at the sight, eyes going wide, and the blank expression that had been on his face softens.
“Hello.” “Hi.” She greets, voice quiet as she wraps her arms around her legs. “You were crying. Is everything okay?” Her bottom lip trembles and she shakes her head. “My mom and dad,��� Her voice breaks. “The lady told me they're dead.” “I’m sorry. Are you waiting for your grandparents or an aunt?” She shakes her head. He frowns and then he moves, sitting on the bed with her, though he is at the foot.
“What’s your name?” Her voice is a little louder as she says it. ‘My name is Jos.” “Hi Jos.” He smiles. “How old are you?” “Four.” “I have a son that turned five recently.” Her arms loosen around her legs. “What’s his name?” “Max. He’s at home right now, I think, trying to convince my wife to get a puppy.” Her eyes widen and her arms drop, legs falling away from her chest. “Do you have a puppy? I’ve always wanted one.” “No.” He laughs and she frowns. “But I want dogs, so does my wife and Max. We just have been waiting.” “For what?’ She asks, head cocked to the side. Jos laughs again. “Special occasion, I suppose.”
She frowns as one of the things the lady said to her as they were in the car on the way over pops into her head. “Jos. Do you think whoever I stay with will have dogs?” “I don’t know.” Her frown grows. “Do you think they’d let me get a dog?” He shakes his head, “I don’t think so.” “Oh.” Her voice is quiet. “But, I’m sure I could talk to Anna about you coming home with me. That would be a special occasion. You and Max could both get your own dog.” “Really?” He nods. “Really.” She scrambles towards him, throwing her arms around him. “Thank you, Jos!” “Of course. Now let's get you to your new home.”
“Do you know who's coming today?” Max nods, small brows furrowed together, looking so much like his father, she wants to take a picture. “My wife.” She’s proud of the way his nose doesn’t wrinkle, no disgust clinging to his words. Max thinking girls were gross wouldn’t do. “Papa never said, but is it the one I choose?” Sophie smiles, remembering how Jos had shown him a bunch of girls and the way Max had seen the one and just kept looking, had easily chosen her. “Yes. Papa was able to get the one you chose.” He smiles and she runs a hand through his hair. “Will they be here soon?” She spares a look at the clock. “Yes. Papa had to drive a bit away, but he should be here soon. Why don’t you come and help me set up her room.”
It was pretty much already set up, but Max could rearrange some of the toys and books, place them how he’d like. She expects him to nod, eager, but he looks confused.
“But mama, if she’s my wife, why isn’t sleeping in my room?” She coughs to hide a laugh. “You two are much too young for that, Max. And you don’t know each other yet. Maybe in a few years you two can share a room.” In ten years, maybe, she privately thinks. “But what if I want to share a room now?” Her eyes narrow. “Max.” His eyes drop to the floor and she sighs. “You two could have sleepovers in your room, not every night, but some nights if you’d like.” He nods, but still doesn’t look at her. “Can I go help set up her room?” “Of course.”
She watches fondly as Max clumsily copies things he’s seen her do when making his bed, adjusting the blankets, fluffing the pillows before he moves onto the small amount of toys she bought, not wanting to buy too many without knowing what the girl did and didn’t like.
He frowns at them before he’s darting out of the room, she thinks of calling after him, but she can hear him moving down the hallway and then into what she thinks is his room. Only a minute passes before he’s back, a stuffed animal in his grasp. Walking towards the bed, he carefully places the toy so it’s resting against the pillows and she nearly gasps seeing what it is.
“Max, that’s Leo.” “I know.” “Sweetheart, you don’t have to give her Leo. Leo’s yours.” He shakes his head. “We’ll share. I want her to have it right now.” Her heart melts at the answer. “Are you sure?” She double-checks. “I’m sure.” “Alright.”
2008
Crawling out of bed, she shivers as the cold air of her room hits her skin. Wrapping her arms around herself, she tiptoes away from her bed and to her door. One of her arms leaves her to slowly twist the knob, making sure it slowly opens. As soon as it’s open enough for her body to slip through, she does. Her feet taking an all too familiar path.
Opening the next door, she does the same as she did with hers, slipping through the tiniest gap possible before shutting it behind her. The words of the maid ring in her head now that she stands in the room. How wrong this is, how inappropriate it is, how wanton she is. She doesn’t know what wanton means, but the way she said it had made her flush, bottom lip trembling as she made herself smaller.
The reminder makes her hunch, teeth finding her lip and she wants to go back to her room, she doesn’t want to be wanton. But her room is cold and the nightmare she had is lurking in the back of her mind. And sure this room is cold too, but Max is here. And she knows if she slips under the covers with him that it will be warm and he’ll even at least wrap an arm around her if not his whole body.
A shiver hits her and she darts over to the bed, slipping under the covers.
“Flower?” Max mumbles. “It’s me.” She says, feeling warm on the inside at the nickname he gave her six years ago when she met him. He makes a small noise and then his whole body is curling around hers and she can’t help but sink into it, sink into him.
She tries to fall asleep, but the word wanton just rings in her mind.
“Max.” She whispers. “Hmm.” She twists in his arms, making them face to face. “What does wanton mean?” “What?” His voice is full of sleep and his eyes are starting to open. “What does wanton mean?” His nose wrinkles, “I don't know. Why?” “Mrs. Loeh told me I was wanton.” “I,” he’s squinting as he looks at her. “I don’t know. I’ll ask my mom at breakfast, okay?” She nods before pressing closer to him. “Okay. Thank you, Max.” “Of course, Flower.”
2012
She stares in shock at the blood on the toilet paper. “Sophie!” She calls, voice nearly a shriek. She knew what this was, Sophie had told her about her body changing, getting a period, but this. This couldn’t be normal. There was so much. It was nearly bleeding through the toilet paper before she let it go.
She hears two different voices say her name, one far louder and closer than the other and she starts to see the door knob turn. “Max, no!” The doorknob stops. “What’s wrong?” “I need Sophie.” “Flower, what’s going on?” The knob started to turn again. “Please, no!” She begs and tears are starting to form in her eyes. “I’ll tell you later, I just need Sophie.” She watches as the door knob stays paused and then hears a sigh from Max before the doorknob is released.
“Max, go to the living room.” She breathes a sigh of relief at Sophie’s voice. “But mama.” “Go.” She can hear him stomping away and can imagine the frown on his face as he curses in his mind.
A small knock sounds on the door. “Can I come in, darling?” “Please.” Sophie easily slips inside the bathroom, shutting the door behind her quickly. “Oh, darling. What happened?” She looks down at where her legs are pressed together. “I,” she hiccups. “I started my period.” “Oh darling.” And Sophie is right beside her, giving her an affection tap of the fingertip to her temple. “It’s alright. I know, it’s a bit scary, huh?” She nods. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much blood.” “Well, it’s probably that heavy because this is your first cycle. Mine was like that as well, but it lightened up after a few months, and birth control helps as well with that.” Blood rushes to her cheeks at the mention of birth control. “I’m a late bloomer, aren’t I?” “A bit.” Sophie allows. “I told you about this two years ago for a reason. I didn’t think you’d be nearly fifteen.” “Am I okay?” “Of course. Everyone is a bit different. If you want though, we can talk about it with the doctor. Make sure that everything is okay.” “Please?” She asks and Sophie smiles. “I’ll schedule it right after this. Now, let me show you again everything you're gonna need.”
She watches and listens intently as Sophie shows her everything. It’s overwhelming and she wants to cry, just lay in bed, bury her head in Max’s pillow and cry. She’s thankful when Sophie slips out of the bathroom as she still sits on the toilet. Is ever more thankful when as she begins to stand, pulling up her underwear and shorts and it’s like she can feel it wanting to drip out.
The pad in her underwear is weird, but nothing compared to the new weird sensation of feeling like she’s leaking. It makes her want to sit back on the toilet and never leave. What if she didn’t change her pad in time and bled through? The thought leaves her mortified and as she leaves the bathroom after washing her hands thoroughly, she darts into her bedroom, forgetting her promise to Max.
Laying on her bed, she makes a face, trying to find a comfortable position, everything feeling weird. Maybe she’d buy a pad or a mattress protector, maybe both with how weird this felt. It would help any mess that might happen as well if she leaked.
Rolling onto her side, she smiles at Moos. The ten-year-old dog looks back at her, head resting on her front paws. “Where’s Freckles?” “The backyard.” She turns, Max stands at the entrance of her room, a look she doesn’t think she’s ever seen on his face before. “It’s later.”
Blood rushes to her face at the words, at the reminder that she promised she’d tell him what’s going on, and she has to tell him. She tells Max everything, always has. And he does the same to her. It’s why she found out when she was six that Max and her were going to get married, that he picked her. That and he was confused about her wanting to play house and how he had to play the husband because they were already husband and wife in his six-year-old mind.
She nearly smiles at the reminder that Max picked her. He’s told her a few times over the years about it. The memory is still so strong in his mind, despite it now being a decade ago. The way he had looked at a bunch of girls in an array of photos, but she immediately caught his eye, was drawn to her and the flower behind her ear.
He snaps his fingers and she can feel Moos stand up before she gets off the bed, no longer leaping in her old age. Max moves into the room, leaving the door open as Moos slips out before shutting it behind the dog.
“What happened?” He asks, approaching the bed and she cranes her neck to fully see his face. Her face feels like it’s burning. It feels embarrassing telling Max this, about this, even though they’ve talked about far weirder and gross things. Maybe, and her eyes drop staring at the hollow of his throat as she thinks, it’s because this means they can finally have sex.
The thought alone makes her swallow, breaths turning a little shallow as she imagines it. Max and her have done a lot of fooling around since his birthday last year. He knows how to speed her heart up with just a brush of his fingers. She knows how much he loves the feeling of her boobs pressed against his chest, bare or covered. Their breaths intertwined with soft pants as they move together, at least one piece of clothing still separating them.
She’s broken away from the thoughts by a hand under her chin, drawing her face up. “Flower.” “I,” she pauses, eyes darting around before settling on his face when she feels his thumb and forefinger gently apply a little pressure to her chin. “I started my period.” His brows are furrowed for a moment then his face smoothes out, mouth dropping into a ‘O’ shape, the fingers and hand under her chin disappearing.
“Are you hurting? Cramps?” “No.” She shakes her head. “It just,” and her voice is quieter than before. “It feels gross, like leaking.” His head cocks to the right. “Even with the pad thing? Is it not working?” “It is. I think it’s just how it can feel.” “I’m sorry. Can I do anything?” She glances at the empty space in the bed next to her. “Lay with me?” He smiles, a laugh shaking his body. “Of course, flower.”
2014
“I have an F1 seat.” “You have an F1 seat.” The shock is so clear on his face it makes her giggle and he immediately smiles, but that shock still lingers behind it.
“Max Verstappen,” She begins, watching as his eyebrows draw together, fingers twitching before his hands settle on her hips. “Youngest F1 driver ever, youngest to score points, youngest on the podium, youngest to win a grand prix.” She doesn’t know if the last three will be true, but she hopes they will be, thinks they will be. “You think so? I mean, it’s just a seat in Toro Russo.” “It’s not just a seat at Toro Russo.” She laughs, feeling flushed as his hands sneak beneath her top. “It’s an F1 seat, an F1 seat that you will do amazing in. I mean, Max. There’s never been an F1 driver younger than eighteen before.” She smoothes the slight furrow between his brows with her thumb before kissing that spot. “You are going to do amazing and achieve so much.” She pecks his lips. “I’m proud of you.” His cheeks are pink at her words, her flutters a little at him blushing because of her, like she hasn’t seen it thousands of times before.
Brushing her fingers over the apples of his cheeks, she frowns. “Maxy.” “Hmm?” Her fingertips trail down to his jaw. “Let me get you a skin care routine? Please.” She adds, sticking her lip out a little. “Flower.” He sighs, his left hand moving to span across the small of her back, pressing her closer. “Please? You know I don’t care about the acne, but you’ll be the youngest on the grid, still in the thick of it. This will help. It won’t be anything complicated, either.” He sighs, a small smile on his face. “Okay. But promise me nothing complicated. You won’t be there to remind me how to do it.” “Nothing complicated.” She promises, beaming. “I’ll even write up a little instruction thing for you and you can call me every time you're doing it, so we can do it together if you like.” “Yeah? Even when I’m like eight hours behind or ahead and you're sleeping.” “Even then.”
“Oh.” She presses up on her toes in excitement and Max’s smile widens seeing it. “I got us new sheets.” “New ones?” She nods. “Can I see them?” Voice going a little low and he’s thankful that his voice doesn’t crack. She never laughed when it did, but it was still embarrassing. Her teeth find purchase in her bottom lip for a second, before she nods. “You can see my new underwear too.” A giggle leaves her at the way he groans, hands pressing her body closer and against his bulge.
2016
Max stares at the ceiling as his dad talks to someone on the phone. This is what they wanted. They wanted him here in the Red Bull seat. Getting here this early was amazing, proving how good he was in an F1 car. And escaping the nightmare that was Carlos and his father was also a plus, even if both of them had taken to glaring at Max every time they saw him.
Max was pretty sure they were betting on him crashing out this race, costing Red Bull money, and then he’d get booted back down and Carlos would get called up. He shook his head at the thought. That wouldn’t happen. He was good, he’d prove he should be in this seat, should be here this early. Because he did. Max was talented no matter what the other drivers said, or the journalists or the legends who told him he had no business in their sport. His jaw clenches, holding back a scoff. Their sport.
It makes him more grateful to his dad and mom. They had told him, prepared him for not being liked. He was aggressive on track, abrasive off to people he didn’t know well. They knew it would make things harder and they had made sure he knew that too. He’s grateful for his wife as well and he wishes she was here now with him for his first F1 race in the big leagues.
He had wanted her there for his first race at Toro Russo, but that hadn’t been an option. But now? Now that he got promoted up, maybe, he looks at his dad considering asking him before shaking his head. His dad would never go for it. Not because she’d be too much of a distraction but because they didn’t need to deal with more media attention, Max was more than sure of that. He nearly shudders thinking of when he had arrived at the track yesterday and today.
“Max.” He sits up, spine straight. “Is everything okay?” His dad smiles and Max’s shoulders loosen. “Yes. I have to go and meet a friend quickly. You will stay by Christian or Helmut if you leave the garage, understood?” “Yes sir.” “Good.” He nods. “Look over the data. We don’t need you crashing out in free practice of all things.”
He dives into the data as soon as his dad leaves. A thread of curiosity is in the back of Max’s mind as he looks it over. Talking to all the mechanics and engineers, getting a feel for them, just like he knows they are getting a feel for him.
When Helmut calls him over he wonders if by friend his dad really meant a friend of Helmut's. His dad didn’t have many friends after all.
“How are you feeling?” “Good.” Max nods. “I haven’t gotten into the car yet though.” The older man nods, frowning like he nearly always is on race weekends. “You’ll do fine.” “I will do my best.” Helmut nods and Max takes the silent dismissal.
Standing towards the back of the garage, he looks at the track data displayed on one of the bigger screens. Seeing it displayed so large and clearly makes him breathe a little easier as he looks at it all. He doesn’t get to look at it long, however. The sound of his dad asking where he is breaking him away from the data and he steps out from where he had been tucked away.
His mouth opens, ready to greet his dad, but it clicks shut at the sight of her.
She smiles at him, but it’s just a bit wrong, too tight at the corners. It makes his chest ache, makes him want to snap and tell people to stop looking at her, makes him want to whisk her away so he can see his smile. “Hi Max.” The quiet sound of her voice makes him move, striding towards her. “Flower.” He breathes just a step away from her before he brings her into his arms and she melts into him as he hides her face away from everyone else. “What are you doing here?” He asks, lips pressing to the side of her head. “Jos got me a flight here. I couldn’t miss this race.” His eyes flicker to his dad who's standing behind her, looking at them, easily ignoring all the eyes of the Red Bull garage on them and the whispers that are starting. “Thank you.” He murmurs and his dad nods.
He pulls away just enough to look at her, his hands now framing her waist, hers resting on his chest. He feels breathless looking at her. Dressed in some pants, a shirt that he remembers his mom buying her last year for her birthday, the shoes that match his, she’s gorgeous and he can’t help but quickly kiss her. Their lips connect for just a second, but it’s long enough for her hand to land on his cheek, for him to feel the warm metal of her wedding ring and band.
“I missed you. Missed you so much.” He tells her as soon as they are in his driver's room, alone. She smiles at him, hands cupping his face, and he can’t help but lean into the touch, into her. Happy to see her smile, his smile. “I missed you too. How are you feeling?” “Nervous.” He admits. “But I’m ready. I can do this. I’m ready for this.” Her smile seems to grow. “You’ve got this.” “Will you watch from the garage for me?” “Will Jos be watching from there?” He nods. “Always does.” “Then yeah, I’ll watch from there.”
Daniel looks at the slip of a girl standing next to Jos, intrigued. She was young, as young as Max if not a bit younger, but more importantly she was hot. Nudging his new teammate, he tilts his head in her direction. “You never said you had a sister.” The eighteen-year-old just looks at him and Daniel hates the way it’s somewhat unsettling. He was twenty-six, there shouldn’t be any reason for it to unsettle him. But as Daniel looks back over, he supposes most eighteen-year-olds don’t have dickhead near abusive dads that are Jos Verstappen. “I don’t have a sister.” “Really? Hot cousin then?” “Not my cousin either.” And before Daniel can say anything else Max is walking away from him over to his trainer. “Alright then.” Daniel mutters to himself, eyes lingering on the girl before he goes to his own trainer.
“Daniel thinks you're hot.” Blood rushes to her cheeks and the shirt in her hands falls onto the floor. “What?” “Daniel, before we got into the car for FP1, he was asking me about you.” His face is burning with anger. “Thought you were my sister or my hot cousin.” Max scoffs. “Oh.” Her voice sounds lost and her arms wrap around herself. The anger softens on his face at the reaction and he wraps his arms around her from behind, exhaling when her arms loosen, hands resting on his arms, fingers stroking his skin. “You're mine.” He breathes, dipping his head to press his lips against her neck, barely resisting the urge to leave a mark. Her breathing comes out shaky and in her next breath, his pinky finger starts to dip below the waistband of her sleep shorts. “I’m yours. I’ve always been yours, Max.”
Max is shell shocked. He’s celebrating, screaming, throwing himself into the arms of his team, but behind his helmet, he’s shocked. He had hoped for points, dreamed of a podium, but a win? A win? That had never been in his wildest dreams for this weekend.
He’s guided over to the weighing station and then the first spot, a member of the team talking to him. His hands don’t shake as he removes his helmet and gloves. They don’t shake as he removes his balaclava either. Not when he clasps a few drivers' hands. They shake as soon as he sees his flower.
She’s standing next to his dad, crying, nearly sobbing. He can tell from the pattern of her chest moving up and down. And he knows that he should be going over to get interviewed, but he ignores the team member trying to guide him, darting over to her. The people surrounding her, all wearing Red Bull shirts, cheer, patting him wherever they can reach, but he’s only focused on her. His hands enveloping her face as he kisses her.
She gasps into the kiss, her hands settling on his biceps before moving down to his wrists, fingers wrapping around them as she returns the kiss.
“You won, Max.” She’s breathless when they break apart. “You won.” He grins at her, enjoying the shine to her eyes, the width of her smile. “I won.” It’s breathless as well, and a laugh follows it. “I won.” “You won.” She laughs, quickly pressing another kiss to her lips before pushing him away. “Now go.” He nods, but leans in for one more kiss before leaving her to go to the post race interviews.
The questions are a blur to him and so are his answers. Except for the final one.
“Is there anyone you want to thank?” “The team of course. I mean really without them this wouldn’t have been possible, we hoped for a podium, for points, a seemed out of reach with how the Mercedes have been performing though. My dad and mom as well. And my girl.” As he continues he fails to see the reactions from people with those two words, my girl.
The person interviewing him’s eyes are wide, almost having stumbled back. Nearly everyone from Red Bull has their jaw on the floor. Daniel though already feeling pissed from Max winning and not him has more anger coursing through him. Because seriously? He had been eyeing her up since Friday and she was with Max apparently? Max of all people? He scowls as his eyes land on her, she is far too pretty to be with Max.
Sebastian at the weighing station let out a disbelieving laugh, adrenaline was a hell of a thing and he hoped for Verstappen’s sake that the girl he kissed didn’t take his words to heart of him calling her his girl. He’d cool down later and most likely get embarrassed by the slip. Perhaps even angry, he was the type, after all.
A few of the other drivers share looks, shaking their heads and murmuring to each other that it wasn’t going to end well. It was a hell of a thing to say after getting a win, your first win, but PR was going to be all over him after and they all winced at the thought of what statement he’d have to make and put out in the next few hours or days.
His former teammate scoffs, “bullshit.” he spits. It should have been him in that Red Bull seat if anyone was going to replace Kyvat. He and his father had banked on Max doing something stupid, crashing the car, finishing out of the points, so he could get the seat like he should, but Max just couldn’t do that. Had to have a one-off fluke of a race. And now he was claiming he had a girlfriend. Probably some sort of PR stunt to make him look better, more stable, like an adult and not a kid squeezing his way into where he shouldn’t be.
Kimi lets out a small chuckle, one that Sebastian hears but doesn’t question him on. Of course, the kid would let it slip that he had a girlfriend. He had been hoping that Max would have made it until the end of the season or even next season, but it was fine. Kimi would just have to make sure to not make another bet with Minttu, it was getting a little embarrassing how much he kept losing to her. At least Kimi considers, he didn’t let it slip that they were married.
“Well, she’s pretty, I’ll give him that.” Jenson comments, looking at the girl Max had kissed, the one that must be his girl. Fernando chuckles. “She is jail bait.” “And taken.” He eyes her. “I’m a bit surprised he hasn’t mentioned her at all. I didn’t even know he was seeing someone. Did you?” The Spanish driver shrugs. “We talk about racing not personal. And yes.” He adds. “I am shocked. Mainly because of that.” He nods his head in the direction of Jos, still stern faced, though Fernando had caught a smile on his face earlier. Jenson lets out a sharp whistle. “Yeah, that is the surprising part. Wonder what Max had to do to get his dad to agree to that.” He shudders, “I don’t want to know.” “Yeah, best not to think about it.”
Max lets the podium celebrations wash over him, laughing when Kimi claps him on the shoulder as they leave, murmuring his congrats. Walking back towards the cool down room, out of sight from fans and cameras, Max takes a deep breath, heart still racing inside his chest. This was unbelievable.
He follows the FIA official as they direct them through another room, this one filled with some team personnel and such and his grin widens, feet picking up their pace as he scoops her into a hug, ignoring her squeal of protest.
“Max! You’re dripping in champagne.” He holds her tight to him, face buried in her neck. “Good. Means you can shower with me.” She doesn’t say anything to that, but he knows that he’s flustered her with his whispered words. It makes him chuckle and he puts her on her feet, keeping her close, though. “I love you.” He murmurs. “I love you too.”
He makes them keep standing there, his face still in her neck, at least a dozen eyes on them, but he needs this. Needs to hold her, needs to breathe her in, needs to feel her against him, needs her to calm him down. He wants to stay there forever, but before anyone can interrupt them, he pulls away. Pressing a kiss to her forehead before he lets her go.
“Go wait in my driver's room, while I finish up.” She nods, flashing him a small smile, before walking over to his trainer, who nods at him before guiding her out of the building and he knows to the Red Bull garage.
“Max, during your post race interview, you thanked quite a few people including and to quote you, my girl. Was that the girl you kissed today?” Max is happy he’s already flushed from winning that they can’t see the way more blood rushes to his cheeks at the question. Red Bull had told him to expect at least one question that was personal during the conference because of the kiss, but he hadn’t been thinking it’d be so early. “I think we have to remember,” Max’s eyebrows furrow at Sebastian speaking and he glances at the older driver. “That adrenaline is a hell of a thing. And we can’t hold something the kid says in the rush of a moment or does really against him.” Sebastian finishes before giving Max a wink, making his brows furrow more.
Was Sebastian trying to say that he didn’t mean to thank her, didn’t mean to kiss her? He can hear a few reporters mumbling, the scratch of pens against paper.
“To answer your question,” Max starts. “Yes, the girl I kissed was the one I thanked, that I called my girl. We’ve been together a while, she’s seen my whole career in karting now single-seater. She deserved thanks.” Kimi lets out a small chuckle, leaning forward a bit to look around Max and see the puzzled expression on Sebastian's face. Served the German right for thinking that Max misspoke and acted while high on his win.
“No girlfriend?” Daniel asks Max as they head into debrief. “What?” “No girlfriend?” Daniel repeats himself. “I haven’t seen her yet. She not here?” Max sends him an odd look, “If you mean Y/N, no. She isn’t.” He scoffs. “Of course, I mean, Y/N. Unless you’ve got more than one girlfriend. And if that’s the case, I call dibs on Y/N.” The younger stops in his tracks, grabbing a fistful of Daniel’s shirt and yanking, making him stop as well.
“What?” Daniel laughs. “She’s hot, pretty, whatever you want to call it.” His laughter dies when he catches sight of Max’s face.
It was the face that everyone loved to talk about. The first thing that had been brought up when it was announced that Max had gotten an F1 seat. It wasn’t his age, though that was a close second. It was the look he’d get if something didn’t go his way on track, if someone smashed into him, made a risky move. It was the face that had to have been born from all the near fucking abusive shit that Jos was rumored to have done to Max.
It was narrowed eyes, glare sitting heavy and Daniel could feel sweat gathering on the back of his neck at the sight of it. Nostrils flared, lips in a thin line, but somehow Daniel just knew that as soon as Max spoke his mouth would look like it was gathered into a snarl.
Seeing it and seeing it directed at him, reminds Daniel how all of them had joked in 2014 about how Max was going to be so scary, just scare them shitless. It had been jokes because despite the rumors they had heard, the stories they had been told, none of them really believed it. It wasn’t because Max couldn’t have been some hotshot on the track with an aggressive style, refusing to back down and winning because of it. No, it was the fact that people thought anyone of them would be scared of it, would be wary of him, that made them all laugh. And then they’d seen him in an F1 car and suddenly all those rumors and stories came rushing back to them, because fuck they have might merit in them when it came to Formula 1 after all.
Daniel has the urge to reach for his phone and call Jules’ godson, Charles, and ask how the fuck he managed to race against Max for so long and never get terrified of him, on or off track. But before his fingers can even twitch to reach for it, Max is speaking and god, he does look like he’s snarling.
“Daniel, if you mention how my wife,” The Australian driver's eyes widen and the word fuck starts bouncing around his head. “Looks hot one more time, I will crash into you, and I will take the fine, the penalty points, the promotion down, or the loss of my seat.” “Okay.” Daniel clears his throat, the word coming out high-pitched. “Got it. I’ll stop talking.” Max releases his shirt, fingers flexing, jaw shifting before the murderous look he had disappeared. “Good. Now let’s go, we are probably late for debrief.” Daniel nods, silently following his teammate while the words what the fuck echo in his mind.
“So, Max is married.” Daniel says, as he sits with a bunch of drivers, downing a shot. “Yeah, Y/N, not his fucking girlfriend.” “Daniel,” Jenson looks at the younger, eyebrow raised. “What exactly did you do?” He winces, throwing another shot back and fuck he should’ve grabbed more than two. “Called her hot in front of him, again.” The last word comes out as a whisper, but the whole table hears it and they all shake their heads. “Dude.” “I know! But like the first time I didn’t know, alright? It was Spain, before free practice, I thought she was like his little sister or cousin. This time, I shouldn’t have done it, there happy?” Kimi shakes his head. “I think the kerbs are going to your brain.” Daniel scowls at the Finnish driver, but Sebastian thankfully steps in before he can tell him where to stick it.
“What happened this time? When you called her hot? Which to be fair she is.” At Seb’s agreement, Daniel can’t help but shoot a look around, despite knowing that Max was in his hotel room and probably talking to his wife. The thought makes Daniel frown. “He, uh, he told me he’d crash into me and happily lose his seat if it came to it for crashing into me.” The other four drivers look at him, Sebastian and Fernando looking with disbelief, while Kimi looks unsurprised, same with Jenson. “Are you sure you just called her hot?” Fernando checks. He nods. “And pretty. I think it was pretty, hot, whatever you want to call it.” “I don’t even want to know the context.” Kimi murmurs. Daniel opens his mouth ready to say but gets a tap to the back of the head, making his mouth shut. “Let’s not do that tonight, alright.” It’s near instinct to fight the words, because why not tonight, but he slumps in his seat, nodding at Jenson’s words. He didn’t have the energy for it anyway.
2017
“Max, put up a hell of a fight.” Max’s eyebrows raise, “I didn’t know you knew my name.” He murmurs, the microphone still catching it, however. Lewis lets out a laugh. “It’s your second win, right? Lots of pretty girls here to celebrate with tonight.” The slight smile on his face from Daniel trying to poke at his ribs vanishes at Lewis’ words and he can hear Daniel’s sharp intake of breath, the journalists coming to life a bit. “Well, I don’t think my wife would appreciate that.” It’s deadpan, or at least he tries to make it deadpan, he didn’t actually want to make his PR officer’s life hell, but he knew there was a bit too much steel in it. “Your what?” Daniel leans forward, peering around Max. “Dude, where were you last year? It was all anyone was talking about at COTA.” “You got married at COTA?” “I got married in February 2016.” “Aren’t you like twenty?” Daniel peers even more around Max. “Once again, where have you been for the last year, two years?”
“Well,” a voice interrupts. “I think we can call this press conference to an end. Let Max celebrate his win and let Lewis come to terms with things.” “Come to terms is putting it lightly.”
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nochepsicodelica · 2 months ago
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You know how sometimes you think of a scenario but just its exact moment and beyond?? There's no clear background on how things got to that point, unless you want to think up that background or it's just that single scene and whatever rolls from it? Well my little spoof is about being pregnant with Toji's baby, but as someone he loves and isn't embarrassed to partake in pda with and just overall someone who he can't wait to come home to every day. Like, he's ready to do this with you.
If you thought Toji was protective of you when it was just you two, then you had no idea of what was to come with having the smallest bean in your stomach, his little cub growing in your womb. You felt a sense of relief when months passed and—through his actions—he continued to remind you that he was in love with going through the process of having a baby with you, but sometimes you would get so caught up with the things that carrying a child entailed, that it would slip your mind.
He catches you crying a lot and even though he knows that it's perfectly normal for your emotions to be all over the place, he still worries. So you can imagine his reaction to watching you waddle around the house while rubbing your belly, in tears. You're breaking his heart with the sound of your little hiccups and sniffing and it won't stop, so he takes your hand and pulls you along to sit on the couch with him.
"You okay, mama?" He asks, rubbing your belly.
You give him a shaky smile and take a breath before responding, pausing the stream of tears for a very brief moment. "Yeah, it's just... my back hurts... and we're hungry... and I feel-" you can't get through the sentence before you start sobbing again.
"You feel what, baby?" He asks, wiping away the fresh stream of tears.
You shake your head, unable to talk through these intense emotions. All he can do is wait and listen until you calm down. He takes your hands in his and squeezes them, affectionately, showing you that he has all the patience in the world for you. Your eyes remain downcast, but eventually the waterfalls running down your cheeks cease.
"You feel what?" He asks, again.
"Fat and ugly, and I don't wanna go to the bathroom because of the mirror. It'll make me feel worse."
He hums, acknowledging your words, despite how severely untrue they are. "Sorry, baby, don't cry, but i'm gonna have to disagree with you. I've never seen someone as pretty as you. It's part of the reason for why you have a baby in your belly."
"It's unfair. You don't look any different. You're still so handsome and... and..."
"Hey," he says, distracting you before you break down again. "You want me to gain some weight?"
You nod, twinkling eyes meeting his warm gaze. You scoff, your thoughts on the suggestion immediately shifting. "You'd still be fine as fuck with a few extra pounds on you."
He laughs, rubbing your belly once more before standing up and sitting behind you for better access to your back. "What do you guys wanna eat?"
- EnD sCeNe 🥀 -
No, but fr this was just casually rolling around in my brain like a dog rolling around in mud.
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lucimaaie · 1 month ago
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missed you ✧.* tlou
pairings - ellie williams x fem!reader
summary - ellie was just missing you when you showed up at her doorstep
warning - short & not proofread as always
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being ellie's ex was no doubt awkward. more at the beginning when everything's fresh and you just have to get used to not being together anymore. seeing something that reminds you of her or not being able to knock on her door and say. "i just need you right now."
then a couple months pass, a year, then three and things were normal. relatively normal for exes, ellie guessed. you didn't talk much besides what was needed or when you happened to end up together.
ellie wasn’t going to admit that she missed you. you were her first relationship, sure. that mattered, she knew that, but something in her head told her she needed to not need you. that that was the mature thing to do: not needing your ex-girlfriend. that’s not what she wanted to call you.
she couldn’t rekindle things again, could she? what if she fucked everything up again and everyone in the town found out? she rolled her eyes at the thought and tried to fix the mess she’d made of her sketch. she’d gotten your nose all wrong and it just didn’t look like you.
the thought that she was forgetting what you look like made her want to knock on your door at..3am in the morning. “damn,” ellie rubbed her eye as she realized the time. she shut her book and walked over to her bed when a quiet rapping on the door stopped her. she waited for it to continue and it did. in that familiar beat that was meant for the two of you when sneaking out to see each other was a big no-no.
ellie realizing it was you, cursed as she searched for pants to put on and a jacket to throw on. she scrambled around to get dressed before opening the door with a startled expression. "hi."
"hi." you sung, swaying from side to side like a child.
ellie tilted her head at your behavior before replying. "are you okay?"
"m'finee. why does everyone keep asking that?" you stepped forward to lean against the doorframe but you ended up leaning and missing the frame altogether.
"woah," ellie barely caught you when it hit her. you were drunk. or high off your ass. or both. either way it was concerning how you got like this and decided to come to her of all people. "you're drunk. like really drunk." her hands wrapped around your waist moved to your arms, pulling you inside before closing the door behind you. "drunk." ellie laughed in disbelief as she looked at you.
she'd wanted to see you, but this wasn't exactly the way she imagined it. regardless, she was happy to see you not so tense around her. "staring." you sang again, flopping back onto the bed.
"shit, sorry. let's get you sober." she grabbed the cup on her desk and walked to the bathroom, but not before taking a glance at you. "ish." it wasn't long before she sat next to you. "here."
you sat up and gulped down the water, something you'd probably regret later, and handed her the cup. "ah," you laid back down.
"ah-ah" ellie pulled you back up. "you are not gonna throw up on my bed. please don't do that."
you opened your mouth in offense. "I wouldn't-" you hiccuped. "do that. I wouldn't do that, el. I promise." you said as if it was the most serious thing on earth.
"i believe you." ellie couldn't help but laugh.
she let out a deep breath as she looked at you in your own world. it was good seeing you be you again. it reminded of her of the nights she'd force you into watching some shitty 80s movie for movie night and listen to you complain about it the whole time. or patrols when you'd gift her some random thing you found who knows where saying "it reminds me of you." with a horrible attempt at a wink. days when there was less to worry about.
"missed you, you know." she said quietly. "a lot actually." the confession didn't come off her chest easily but you wouldn't remember later anyway. call it a test run.
"I missed you too, e." you said so naturally she questioned the truth of it. though it seems she was given her answer when you patted around for her hand. she quickly gave it to you. "we shouldn't have broke up." you slurred.
ellie froze. "don't say that."
"why not?" you pouted, leaning your head onto your shoulder. you looked up at her with slightly glossy eyes.
"cause i'm gonna think it's true.” she disconnected her hand from yours to put her arm around your shoulder. “and you’re drunk which meant i shouldn’t take anything you say to heart.”
“that’s just mean. you should take everything i say to heart.” you nuzzled your head into her neck, making her let out a strained hum. you knew she was touch-starved and was probably doing this to tease her. goddamn you.
“that’s very credible.” she got up. “c’mon, you’re gonna sit up in bed till you fall asleep.” ellie squatted down to take off your boots and set them by the bed.
“will you lay down with me?”
her eyes flicked back up to you at the question. she shut them for a while, trying to keep her head on a straight. “you’re not laying down, remember?”
“fine. will you sit up with me?”
“in bed?”
“yup.” you popped the p like this was some casual occurrence. like the last time you’d been this close wasn’t three years ago.
“okay.” ellie said slowly.
“yay.”
“just like a kid.” ellie smiled as she pulled back the covers and patted the spot. you glared at her for the comment and she matched the energy with a smile in her eyes. “get in, kid.”
“only cause i want to.”
after you slid in, ellie did the same. she looked at the ceiling as you scooted closer to her and laid your head on her shoulder again. this time your hands snuck around her waist. “had no idea you were a cuddly drunk.” ellie smiled as you giggled.
“i’ve grown up.”
“i see.” ellie grabbed on your hands from her waist, feeling brave enough to lace your fingers together. she’d enjoy the closeness for the moment. in the morning, you’d awkwardly apologize and scamper off. probably not talk to her for a while.
“missed you.” you mumbled sleepily before closing your eyes. “missed this.”
“me too,” ellie looked at you in this relaxed state. thankful for the opportunity to see this before the morning hit. but she didn’t want to think about that now. she wanted to think of how cute you looked sleepy. how much you enjoyed her touch. how much she was enjoying your touch. “me too.” she laid her head on yours.
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thank you for reading!
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anniebeemine · 2 months ago
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spoiled- s.r. x fem!reader
warnings: Spencer spoiling his kids def comes back to bite him in the ass
Spencer wanted nothing but the best for his children. Since finding out he had one on the way, he spent weeks hunched over online articles, debating the best car seats, the safest family cars, and the most comfortable strollers. He read everything—from parenting blogs to consumer reports—until his eyes burned and his back ached from sitting for so long. No detail was too small. The color of the car seat, the weight of the stroller—everything mattered because this was his child.
As Melanie grew, so did his tendency to spoil her. He carried a mini fan around for her in the summer to make sure she was cool enough. In the winter, he always had a stash of hand warmers to stuff in her pockets. He didn’t care if people thought it was excessive; he’d do anything to keep her comfortable and happy.
But now, standing in the middle of the mall with his daughter screaming at the top of her lungs, Spencer realized some of that spoiling had been a mistake.
It had started innocently enough. Melanie needed a few long-sleeve shirts for school, and with the temperatures dropping, Spencer thought it would be a nice afternoon outing. They’d stopped in the store she loved, all girly pink and frills, the kind of place that lit up her eyes. He’d let her pick out earrings, scarves, and other trinkets he wasn’t sure she’d need, but the way her face lit up made it worth it.
Then, she saw the tiara. It was glittering under the store lights, solid gold with delicate rhinestones, sitting in a glass case as if it were meant for a real princess. Melanie’s eyes had widened, and she reached out for it like it was the most important thing in the world.
"No, Mel. Not today," Spencer had said gently, kneeling down to her level. "It’s too expensive, and you don’t need another tiara."
But she wasn’t having it. Her lip trembled, and before Spencer could even blink, she dropped to the floor, her light-up sneakers kicking out as she let out a blood-curdling scream.
Every head in the store turned toward them, eyes wide. Spencer’s heart hammered in his chest as he tried to calm her down, but Melanie wasn’t listening. She was kicking, screaming, and pounding her fists against the floor.
“Melanie, stop it,” he said firmly, feeling the heat of embarrassment creep up his neck. Other parents passed by, some averting their eyes awkwardly while others gave him knowing, sympathetic looks.
Spencer picked her up, her little body thrashing in his arms as her cries echoed through the mall. He carried her to the parking lot, feeling every pair of eyes on him as he walked, his face flushed with embarrassment. When they reached the car, she fought him again, pushing his hands away when he tried to buckle her into the car seat. Her face was red, tear-streaked, and contorted with anger.
He sighed, stepping back and waiting. He couldn’t force her. He had to wait until she calmed down.
After what felt like an eternity, Melanie finally stopped thrashing, her sobs quieting down to soft hiccups. She allowed him to buckle her in, but as he drove home, she kicked at the back of the seat, whining and crying about how they hadn’t even gotten the pretzels they always got when they went to the mall.
By the time they got home, Spencer was exhausted. Melanie, far too old to be throwing tantrums like this, stomped into the house, her little fists balled up at her sides.
"Melanie," Spencer said, his voice stern, but not angry. He pulled her little pink chair from her tea set and placed it in the corner of the living room. "Sit here."
Her face dropped, and she looked at him with wide, apologetic eyes, as if she suddenly realized she had gone too far. Normally, he would’ve caved, let her go about her day with a warning or a talk. But not today. Today, he needed to set a boundary.
Melanie sat down slowly, her tiny toes barely touching the floor. She sniffled, her lip quivering, but she didn’t argue. Soft cries escaped her, and Spencer’s heart ached, but he stood firm.
You had heard it all from the other room. When you walked into the living room and saw Melanie sitting in the corner, her head bowed and her small shoulders shaking, you knew something had happened. But instead of going to her first, you went to find Spencer.
He was in your shared bedroom, sitting in the chair near the corner that was often inhabited by a pile of unfolded laundry. His head was in his hands, and his whole body looked tense, as if he were carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.
You knelt in front of him, gently running your hands over his forearms until he looked at you.
“Shouldn’t you be talking to Melanie?” he asked, his voice quiet and tired.
You chuckled softly and smiled. “I came to talk to my husband, to find out what she did. And why he put himself in time-out.”
A small, exhausted laugh escaped Spencer, and he shook his head, sitting back in the chair. “She threw the biggest tantrum I’ve seen in years... over a tiara,” he said, rubbing his hands over his face. “I tried to reason with her, but she just... lost it. I had to put her in the corner." His voice lowered. "I’ve never had to do that before.”
You squeezed his hand. “You did the right thing.”
He looked at you, his eyes filled with guilt and frustration. “I don’t know... I feel like I’ve spoiled her so much that this is partly my fault. She’s never acted like that before.”
You leaned forward, resting your forehead against his. “Parenting isn’t easy, and she’s growing up. But setting boundaries is important. You’re doing great, Spencer.”
He sighed, his shoulders relaxing a little as he finally let go of some of the tension. “I just hate seeing her like that.”
“I know,” you whispered. “But she’ll be okay. And so will you.”
After a few minutes of quiet, Spencer stood up from the chair, his shoulders heavy with exhaustion but his mind clearer. He walked back into the living room, where Melanie still sat in the little pink chair, her face flushed and tear-streaked. Her legs swung idly as she sniffled, her fingers picking at the hem of her shirt. When she saw him coming, she straightened up slightly, her big eyes watching him closely.
He knelt down next to her, making sure they were at eye level. Spencer wasn’t one to raise his voice or discipline in anger, and he wanted her to know this was about more than just the tantrum. He needed to help her understand.
"Mel, do you know why I asked you to sit here?" he asked gently, his voice soft but steady.
She hesitated, her bottom lip wobbling. "Because... I was bad," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Spencer shook his head slowly, reaching out to take one of her tiny hands in his. "No, you weren’t bad. But the way you acted at the mall—screaming and kicking like that—it wasn’t okay. It’s not how we handle things when we don’t get what we want."
Melanie looked down at her shoes, her face flushed with embarrassment. "But I really wanted the tiara," she muttered, a little tremble in her voice.
"I know you did," Spencer said, squeezing her hand gently. "And it’s okay to want things. But sometimes, we can’t always have everything we want, especially if it’s something that’s too expensive or something we don’t need right now. I told you no, not because I didn’t want you to be happy, but because I thought it was the best decision. That doesn’t mean you throw a tantrum when you don’t get your way. We can talk about it, but you have to stay calm."
Melanie sniffled again, her fingers curling into the fabric of her skirt. “I’m sorry, Daddy.”
Spencer smiled softly and brushed a few strands of hair from her face. "I know you are. And I’m not mad at you, okay? I love you more than anything in this world. But I need you to understand that acting like that isn’t the right way to get what you want."
She nodded, her eyes watery as she looked up at him. "I understand," she whispered. "I won’t do it again."
Spencer nodded, feeling a bit of relief wash over him. "That’s all I ask," he said, pulling her into a gentle hug. She wrapped her small arms around his neck, clinging to him as if she was afraid he’d still be upset. He held her tightly, letting her know that everything was okay now.
When they finally pulled apart, Melanie glanced up at him with wide eyes. "Maybe... we can look at tiaras tomorrow?" she asked hesitantly, her voice small but hopeful.
Spencer chuckled softly, the tension in his chest finally easing. "Maybe," he said, smiling down at her. "We’ll see if we can find something more reasonable, okay?"
Melanie nodded eagerly, a tiny smile tugging at her lips. Then, with a seriousness far beyond her years, she patted his leg. "But you need some time to calm down first, Daddy," she said, her voice filled with that innocent wisdom only children possess.
Spencer couldn’t help but laugh, the sound light and full of affection. "I think you might be right," he said, standing up and holding out his hand to her. "How about we both calm down together, maybe with some ice cream?"
Melanie grinned, taking his hand as she jumped up from her chair. "I like that idea."
As they walked toward the kitchen, you appeared in the doorway, watching the two of them with a soft smile. You’d been listening from the hallway, and the tenderness in their exchange made your heart swell. Spencer caught your eye and gave you a small, knowing smile. The storm had passed, and you knew that, together, you’d figure out the rest.
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zyafics · 2 months ago
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WHITE PICKET FENCE | Rafe Cameron
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MASTERLIST (drabble) | x Female Reader
Summary — When your daughter wakes up in the middle night, Rafe goes to comfort her. Word Count — 949 words.
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Rafe wakes up by the soft cries of your baby daughter.
Groggily, he reaches for the baby monitor on the nightstand and turns down the volume. He didn't want to interrupt your sleep. Especially with how restless you've been since your daughter's birth, caring for her throughout the night due to her nocturnal habits. It's only been a few weeks since that died down.
Until tonight, it seems.
Throwing off the blanket, Rafe makes sure to cover you accordingly before walking barefoot to her room. He doesn't need to turn on the lights when he enters, the gentle cascades of moonlight shining through the sheer curtains were enough to illuminate the space.
When he steps inside, he discovers her tear-stained face, having pulled herself to her feet by holding the top of her crib. She instantly placates upon Rafe's presence, her sobs reduced to mewls and occasional hiccups that surprise her every time one pops out of her mouth.
"Mama," she babbles, and despite wanting you, her tiny hands still reach for Rafe.
"Mama's asleep," Rafe hushes, placing a hand on the headboard. She makes an immediate move to grab it, her fingers wrapping around one of his.
"Mama." She says adamantly with a tug, which wasn't enough to sting, but was enough to bring a tired smile to his lips. He goes to pick her up, wrapping his arms around her as she goes to nuzzle his chest, securely as if she found solitude from whatever caused her troubles.
"She's sleeping," Rafe repeats in a whisper, stroking the baby hairs of your daughter. The color and texture reminding him too much of you. "But I got you now."
He exits from the room into the living room, stopping right in front of the glass entrance of the backyard. Rafe cradles his daughter's head as she moves against his chest, subtle hiccups leaving her lips still scaring her with a jolt. When she sounds like she's on the verge of tears, mostly from a surprised hiccup attack, Rafe begins to rock her back and forth in his standing position, overlooking the view of the ocean.
It doesn't take long for you to stir, unconsciously recognizing the missing heat of Rafe beside you. When you step out of the master bedroom in search of your husband, you discover him standing in front of the glass doors, staring off into the distance while your daughter sleeps soundly on his shoulder.
Rafe heard the patting of your footsteps, turning to see you at the end of the hallway, with an amused smile and a tilt of your head.
"Did you steal her from her crib?" You laugh softly, approaching Rafe as he chuckles. Your fingers glide over your daughter's soft cheeks, causing her to wiggle under your touch, but not enough to stir from her sleep.
"She couldn't sleep and woke up crying," Rafe explains, watching the way your nose wrinkles and your eyes sparkle in awe as you stare at the child you created with your husband. Something to be proud of; something to love.
"Really?" You lift your chin to meet Rafe's gaze. A playful smile graces your lips. "I thought she outgrew that."
He shrugs. "It's happens. It'll pass."
"I could've handled it, you know," you declare, rubbing her back, your hand grazing over Rafe's and the gold ring of his wedding band. "I know you have work tomorrow."
"It's fine, I was already up." Rafe declares, knowing it's a privilege for him to care for his daughter, no matter how disruptive she is throughout the night. There was a time when he couldn't even fathom this type of life for himself. Now, he's living it. "You should go back to bed. You must be tired."
You hum noncommittedly, dropping your hand to your side and the warmth of your palm leaves a stinging cold to his touch. He misses it already. When you make a move to head back, you glance behind to check if Rafe is following—but he isn't.
He remains in the same position, the perfect spot to overlook the midnight waves crashing against the sand of your oceanfront home, the reflection of the moon glistening over the waters.
You halt two steps in. "You're not coming?"
Rafe doesn't turn around, stroking the soft hairs of his baby daughter. "Just a minute."
Instead of returning to your bedroom, you reapproach Rafe and settle by his side. You circle your arms around his bicep, leaning against his shoulder and hearing the soft breaths of your daughter sleeping right next to your ear, peacefully, lovingly, in the safe custody of her father.
There's nothing but the stillness of the night, the brightness of the full moon, and the serenity in both of your hearts. Rafe never in a million years imagined he would achieve this feeling, having searched for it his entire life. He never believed he would find himself in a place where the world isn't a constant stream of noises, screams, and chanting reminding him that he's worthless and never enough.
All he feels is you.
By the daughter sleeping against his chest, by your touch on him. By the inner peace and contentment you bring to his life.
Rafe shifts, planting a chaste kiss on your forehead.
"Thank you," he murmurs. Your heart jumps at the sudden turn of affection. Rafe often hides his emotions through actions, you rarely get to see a side of him vocalizing it.
Startled, but buzzing with joy, you glance up to ask, "For what?"
There’s so much he can say. The simplistic being that you saved him. You gave him a life he often doesn’t think he deserves. To be a loving husband, a dotting father. He has the entire world to be thankful for. Even when the world didn't want to give it to him. You did.
A genuine smile rises to his lips as he simplifies it to one. "Everything."
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surrexi · 1 year ago
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shoutout to @dduane for posting about the science behind how a spoonful of sugar stops hiccups in their tracks because i had somehow convinced myself that i had overestimated the effectiveness of said hiccup cure as a child but i just got some bad hiccups and, reassured that it's a real cure, i ate a spoonful of sugar and it stopped them so immediately i almost feel like i imagined having them in the first place lol
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judasofsuburbia · 1 year ago
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“what? hello?” steve mumbled sleepily into the phone.
“i’m going insane,” eddie nearly shouts.
steve sits up in his bed and scrubs his hand over his face. “woah woah, eds, what’s goin on?”
a high pitched wail is heard in the background and eddie is immediately cooing and shushing. steve presses the phone tighter to his ear.
“eds. eds, can you hear me?”
“i’m going insane i’m going insane i’m going insane,” eddie breathes. “she won’t stop crying steve she’s been crying for two hours—fuck, three hours. i don’t know what to do. i don’t know what to do steve.”
“who’s crying?” steve asks.
“my cousin. or my niece, maybe? i don’t know how it works. my cousin’s baby is here and she won’t stop crying.”
more crying and wailing is heard. steve has to hold the phone away from his ear when eddie gets closer to her. he can hear eddie pleading with her, trying to comfort her, to no avail.
“i need help,” eddie says. “i need help, please.”
“uh, okay. okay,” steve replies as he rolls out of bed and stumbles around his room in the dark to find some pants and shoes. “i can be there in ten.”
“make it five,” eddie nearly whines, anxiety pouring through the receiver.
“got it.”
steve’s tires screech into eddie’s driveway. his trailer is the only one with the lights still on and he could hear the baby crying from outside. he’s surprised no one has called to complain to the police station. though he’s sure callahan or hopper would simply hang up.
steve barrels up the steps and opens the door to utter chaos. toys and books scatter the ground, there are blankets and bottles strewn over surfaces (some definitely knocked over and spilling onto the floor), and baby clothes and diapers in the leftover spaces. and of course, a screaming infant.
eddie pops out of his room with said infant trashing in his arms. eddie has tears streaming down his fact too and steve’s heart just cracks.
“help me,” eddie mouths.
“uh, okay, okay,” steve is wracking his brain for any tips he learned in home economics about taking care of a baby. “what have you tried? i presume she’s in a clean diaper and…” god it was hard to think with the noise screeching in his ears. “fed her?” steve asks louder.
“yes fuck, i keep changing her and trying to feed her. i read her stories and rocked her and tried to put her in her crib. she’s so upset i don’t know why,” eddie’s voice cracks on the last word and suddenly, steve’s across the room. ready to comfort him.
“give her here,” steve says.
eddie’s eyes are panicky and wide but eventually, he hands steve the child. she continues to cry and thrash in steve’s arms so it takes a second for him to hold her properly.
“what’s her name?” steve asks.
“cheyenne” eddie responds, arms wrapped around himself like a hug. his whole body is bouncing and steve feels the urge to reach out and bring him in too but the more pressing matter is currently occupying those arms.
“hi cheyenne,” steve says gently. “seems like you’re mighty upset.”
she yanks at steve’s shirt with her little baby fists, definitely grabbing some chest hair underneath and ripping it. steve winces but recovers quickly.
“would your neighbors kill me if i take her outside?”
“probably,” eddie mutters.
“i’m going to anyway.”
steve heads for the front door and eddie goes to follow him but steve holds out a patient hand. “stay here, take a breath,” steve instructs.
eddie’s eyes well up with more tears. “but what if something—“
“then we’ll do something. right now, being around her isn’t good for you. let me take a crack at this, alright?”
eddie nods solemnly and backs away so steve can open the door.
cheyenne’s cries echo out into the night sky as steve starts to pace around the porch. steve starts to feel a little scared being alone with her but he’s more scared of what the stress has done to eddie.
so he decides to do it scared.
the baby starts to have this hiccuping breaths that pull steve out of his thought spiral. steve shushes her and props her up so her head is on his shoulder. he rubs her back with his hand, which takes up her entire back, and tries to stay calm when her cries are right next to his ear.
“you like music? 'course you do, everyone does.i don’t know how many lullabies eddie knows. his taste is a little more intense,” steve says conversationally as he continues to pace. “i don’t even think i know any lullabies. um…”
cheyenne cries with new fervor right into his neck and steve just panic sings the first song that comes to mind, “shake it up is all we know. using bodies up as we go. i’m waking up a fantasy. the shades are all the colors we used to see.”
cheyenne’s cries go down a peg, still loud but less wailing and more whimpering. steve’s heart is racing as he slowly continues the song.
“broken ice still melts in the sun. and ties that are broken can be one again. we’re soul alone and soul really matters to me.”
cheyenne keeps crying but it's getting softer by the second. steve rearranges her so she's cradled in his arms. he's blown away by how small she is. how helpless. everything must be so scary for her.
“i'm out of touch,” steve sings softly. “you're out of time. but i'm out of my head when you're not around. oh, oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh.“
cheyenne's eyes open up and they're this big beautiful brown, just like eddie's. his breath is taken away as he keeps singing weakly. he doesn't even realize that she stops crying entirely and is just blinking at him, dazed.
it takes eddie slowly opening the front door for him to recognize the silence. he sits on the couch and bounces her gently in his arms, still humming and singing the occasional "oh's". eddie very slowly and quietly sits beside him.
steve looks up at eddie who is staring at him in awe. the same beautiful brown eyes are puffy and swollen, just like cheyenne's.
“c'mon eds, sing it with me,” steve jokes quietly.
eddie shakes his head. “i can't believe she's a hall and oates fan.”
“everyone is,” steve says simply and sings, “i'm out of touch.” he gestures to eddie to continue.
“i'm out of time,” eddie sings, looking incredibly pained to do so.
“but i'm out of my head,” steve leans his ear to the side.
“when you're not around,” eddie says flat, voice raspy from his exhaustion. it makes steve's stomach flip so he returns his attention to the near asleep girl in his arms.
they keep humming until she's fully asleep. steve leans back into the couch with a long exhale, his shoulders rubbing up against eddie's.
“you're magical,” eddie whispers.
“please,” steve scoffs.
“i'm serious,” eddie replies. steve turns his head to face him and nearly chokes from how close their faces are.
”i don't know how you do it,“ eddie mumbles.
”do what?“
”make everyone around you so calm. i feel like all i can do is make everyone stressed out,” eddie laughs weakly.
steve shakes his head. ”not true. just ask buckley, i stress her out on a daily basis.“
eddie chuckles and sniffles. steve sees his lips stretch over his teeth in a smile.
”thank you for coming over. i didn't know who else to call.“
”how did you end up with your baby cousin anyway?“ steve asks.
eddie sighs, tilting his head back into the cushion. if he leaned his head closer, he'd be on steve's shoulder. steve wishes he would.
”her mom is taking a much needed vacation and i promised wayne that he didn't need to take time off work to take care of her. that was a huge mistake.“
”you did your best,“ steve argues quietly.
”maybe but it wasn't enough.“
”hey, c'mon. don't beat yourself up. you did what you could and found help when you couldn't. it's not your fault this is her only form of communication.“
eddie smiles again and yawns. ”you wouldn't happen to have this album on cassette would you?“
steve beams at him. ”in my car, actually.“
”i'm getting it.“
they put cheyenne to bed with the big bam boom album playing softly on eddie's stereo. they stare at her peaceful form snoozing away and seem to forget how she looked not even a half hour ago.
”you should get some sleep,” steve whispers, nudging eddie with his shoulder.
“you're right, you're right,” eddie sighs. he gestures that he's gonna walk steve to the door. steve grabs his keys and turns before opening the door.
“thank you again,” eddie whispers.
“anytime. hall and oates always heals,” steve smiles.
eddie rolls his eyes fondly and shoves steve's shoulder. only, his hand doesn't move away. it splays out over steve's beating heart which is rapidly picking up speed. eddie's eyes slowly drift up to catch steve's.
“i was listening to that song yesterday,” steve whispers. “over and over and over again.”
“you must really like it,“ eddie says, a little confused.
”no. i mean, i do but…“ steve whispers. ”i was listening to it because... i start to go a little insane when i'm not around you.“
eddie's brows furrow. ”w-what do you mean?“
”can't keep you out of here,“ steve explains, tapping his temple. ”i don't know what to do. this is where i need help, eds.”
eddie's lips part in a silent gasp. he takes a step closer and rubs his thumb over steve's shirt. steve's hand comes up and covers his.
“i can help,” eddie whispers, tilting his head up so their noses brush.
that's how steve and eddie share their first kiss in eddie's living room, sleep deprived and unhurried. just four lips gently sliding over one another.
when they pull away with tired smiles, eddie murmurs, “in case she wakes up, you should probably sleep over.”
(inspired by @gothbat99 's wonderful steve harrington playlist)
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celestialprincesse · 8 months ago
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Just going to leave this here and then sneak away! K bye! 🎀🩰
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John Price is a man who runs on instinct. After years in the forces, he has to be. He's learned that the feeling in his gut is almost never wrong, and learning how to trust it is a skill. Right now though? He's wishing that his stomach would stop roiling. He's so anxious he feels like he might actually be sick. Kyle sits earnestly at his side, hunched over in the plastic hospital chair nursing a long gone flat vending machine Coke.
They've been tuning out your screams for a good three hours now.
Something within John breaks with every guttural cry that sounds from under the doorway. He's heard so many countless screams of agony from faceless people. They've been and gone in his head like a passing storm. Yours, he thinks, will stick for a lifetime.
Realistically, he knows that you're safe. Receiving the best care you possibly can, safe within the walls of the modern private hospital his insurance more than covers. He also can't help but remind himself just how complicated giving birth can be - and you're so delicate to him.
He's not actually sure when Kyle got here, having been running on autopilot since your contractions started yesterday. All the boys love you just as much as you do them, and when he'd messaged their shared group with a simple: > On way to hospital now. they'd been so shit scared.
Each one of them had opted to take up shifts staying beside their captain in the hospital, waiting earnestly for if they were at all needed. Johnny had picked up groceries, claiming that he' d best know what to get for a new mum, seeing as he's the only one besides Price who actually has sisters, and a niece of his own. None of them would ever admit that they also wanted to be the first to see little baby Price, and to check in on his wife who'm they'd grown to love so much, but there'd definitely been attempts on all three sides to work out when the baby would approximately pop, so that they could time their stint accordingly.
"Think she's okay in there?" John croaks, lifting his head from his palms, squinting at the fluorescent hall lights with a tired grunt.
Kyle swallows the sip of Coke in his mouth before responding. "She's a trooper. I think if anyone can handle having a baby, it's your missus."
Hours later, your small hospital room falls silent, and John is immediately up on his feet, back ramrod straight, everything alert. And then, a baby cries. It's a little hiccuping whinge at first, but then his baby seems to find their voice, wailing up a storm.
"You should go. See them." Kyle prompts quietly, noticing his captain's reverie as he just stands there staring at the closed door.
Nurses file out one by one, whilst he makes his way in, a dazed sort of look on his face as he sees the swaddles blanket you hold close to your chest, gurgling softly as tiny fat fists reach out to your nose.
The stillness in the room is like time stops entirely, only finally broken by a soft "Hey." as your husband makes his way quietly to your side.
"Hi." You breathe, a soft smile blossoming on your tired face, scooting along in the hospital bed so he can sit beside you.
The reverence on his face as he looks down towards the face of such a small creature is a look only talked about in fairytales. A look that tells you that your baby is the luckiest child in the world to have a dad like John.
"She's a girl." You laugh softly, noticing the look on John's face, the one that says he's holding his tongue.
"Oh, my baby girl." Tears spring to his cerulean eyes as he brushes a gentle finger down the soft slope of her tiny nose.
For a moment, the two - three - of you sit in total stillness, entirely enraptured by the tiny human you currently keep held so closely to your chest. Until there's a quiet, tentative knock on the door.
"Mrs Price? Can we come in?" Kyle's voice comes softly from the other side, but before you can even finish your "Yes" not just Kyle, but also Simon and Johnny are practically barrelling into the room, barely able to contain their intrigue as they lock eyes with the little blanket wrapped parcel they've been waiting nine months to meet.
The minute you invite them to look at the sleeping face of your daughter, they're practically tripping over themselves to see the much anticipated baby Price.
"Looks jus' like her mam." Johnny observes, whilst Simon just stares, and Kyle busies himself with taking a picture of you, John and your baby girl.
"Bought 'er a present, mrs Price." Simon admits a little sheepishly as he pulls a haphazardly wrapped parcel from his coat pocket. A stuffed ghost teddy only just the size of your fist. "To remind 'er that uncle ghost is always looking out for her."
You're practically crying at the thought behind his gift, carefully side-hugging the lieutenant with the arm that's not holding your daughter.
"We're all here for her. And for you. Always. One for one and that."
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creamiecoups · 14 days ago
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why do u think about forced breeding with jeonghan???? also so glad that u are back
thank you anon it’s good to be back!!
now forced breeding would go crazy with jeonghan… i tried to keep it short because when i have a thought in my mind it runs and this would end up being a whole fic but i hope you enjoy it :)
WARNINGS: smut, established relationship, dark themes, forced breeding, creampie, dacryphilia, lmk if I missed anything
Something about the way you squirm and cry under him while begging him to pull out would satiate him beyond compare, it’s about possession, knowing you’d completely be his and no one could even bat an eyelash your way.
well, he just needs to do one more thing for you to forever be tied down to him.
“You’re doing so well for me, my angel.”
He’d pur in your ear, his voice dripping with honey while his thrusts would be rough and almost animalistic.
“J-Jeong…..Han….p-please,” you hiccup, carefully manicured nails now grazing and clawing at his chest for him to get off you but to no avail.
And deep down you knew he was persistent like that, he would stop at nothing to get what he wants, yet you still tried.
and he found that so fucking cute, it only made him want to be rougher, chase that high faster so he could finally spill his load into you, after months of used that stupid latex because you were too scared.
“Shhh sweetheart, I’m so close, it’s only fair I cum after I’ve made my princess cum so many times right?” He cooes again, peppering soft kisses across your sweaty hairline as a sob leaves your lips.
“Just pull out please, please im begging you hannie,” you cry out, clenching down on him harder than ever.
Jeonghan groans apon hearing his nickname fall so cutely from your lips, your pussy squelching so absurdly loud he thought the room was spinning, all he could think about was you and how he couldn’t wait to come home after a long day in a couple of months, to you and your child, you would be such a good mother, no matter if you were too young and not ready.
you definitely wanted this, you just didn’t know it yet, he knew your sadness would eventually wilt away, after all, a child is a blessing right?
He thought wrong. Although you guys had now been dating for a few months and were in love, recently Jeonghan’s possessiveness and antics had started to make you double think your whole relationship.
And tonight he finally snapped.
Seeing you casually talking to a friend from your department shouldn’t have bothered him as much as it did, it was harmless. but the minute that poor unsuspecting boy brushed your hair back behind your shoulder, he knew he had to do something. All carnal thoughts taking over. It was nothing, but he just needed a catalyst to finally do what he had been wanting to do since he first laid his eyes on you.
“I’m not pulling out my angel, you’re going to take me well like you always do, alright? You can do it baby,” he whispered into your ear, causing your eyes to widen slightly in fear.
Tears began spilling from your eyes as you thrashed around screaming at him to at least pull out, yet it only helped push him over the edge easier, the sight of you crying and weeping making him crumble easier than he thought possible.
Not long after he was spilling deep into your womb, pumping into you lazily as his tongue darted out to collect the salty tears staining your cheeks.
“My pretty angel, you’d look so much prettier with your tummy full…..full of what our love has created,” he purred, one strong hand leaving your bruised hip to tangle in your hair, before pushing your head down to look at your stomach, where you could clearly see the outline of his cock poking out.
The heavy shudder you let out only fueled his ego more, he knew you were always going to be his…he just liked reminders.
“W-What have you done—”
“Shhh… I’m not done with you baby, you’re gonna take as much as i give you…. I’m not stopping until you’re leaking my cum from this pretty pussy of yours for days.”
You were never going to be able to leave him now.
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sonnyaavce · 1 year ago
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DP x DC prompt # 6
There’s a kid crying, a blue skinned white headed kid that was just sitting there crying his eyes out in a panic as he was covered in a very large and dark cloak that was dwarfing him… that was cute to see but, the thing wouldn’t be an issue if there weren’t for the clusterfuck of dead cultist surrounding a green ominous portal under him while the poor kiddo shed luminescent tears nonstop.
“Why is there a kid?” ‘dumb question to ask Captain but sure let’s go with that yeah?’ scoffed annoyed Constantine after eyeing the magic champion while some of the members of the Justice League finished some of the goons that were still alive and resisting, Constantine just watched in dumbfounded stupor the crying baby eldritch abomination still wailing over there.
“I’ll go check on him first” said Wonder Woman, being the first to react after finishing her part, slowly walking forward with gentle steps and humming tunes to make the small baby calm down a bit and refocus on her. Dianna never went too closer to grab the small kid, but she slowly crouched in front of him, palms out and leveling her face in a calm expression, so the kid wouldn’t freak out while she still hummed songs and cooed calming words.
The poor kid wails gradually subsided and ‘oh my god, why are those eyes way too green!’ His eyes were completely black except his irises being a bright neon green shine, his small body trembled when only small hiccups stayed, in his small crying fit the lad had ended up sucking his thumb in a desperate attempt to calm down while looking for any non-frightening competent adult and after only seeing Dianna in front of him he tried to raise his small arms towards her but immediately cried as his arms wouldn’t move at all.
“I think the little boy is injured…” said Wonder Woman, breaking the silence once all suspects were aprehended and tied down “explain what you can see Wonder Woman” chastised Batman as he tried to walk towards her to check on the small boy only to be stopped by Superman, who had his eyes shinning red as he looked at the kid “For what I can see, the small child seems to have some broken bones and some internal bleeding… also there’s seems to be a sphere in the middle of his chest?”
“The demon baby is hurt?” Constantine blurted out incredulous, Zatanna wacked him furiously for that comment “if you haven’t heard what Superman said, he said he saw a sphere so it’s not a demon John! it’s a tuttelagé you idiot!”
“How the fuck would you know that isn’t a démonos, Z?!” cussed the magician as he moved a bit back while Zatanna then moved towards Wonder Woman, with spells already healing the poor baby body “tuttelagés are known to be protective spirits of kids that died wishing to protect their loved ones, their wish is then concentrated in their chest as a sphere so to see a young one hurt like this…” Wonder Woman looks grimm at the implications while Zatanna finish healing the young spirit and allows Dianna to pick him up once he’s done healing and calmed down bit.
“Someone must have hurt his protegué so bad that his body is getting affected by it” sentenced Batman as he glared with concern at the small baby who now is now resting his head in Wonder Woman arms and falling asleep.
MEANWHILE
Danny is soo scared and hurt all around his tiny body, the wounds he had while being subjected to the examine table makes him tear up in pain while also making his chest feels funny once the weird forced summoning spell stops pulling his being into existing; green stops flooding his vision only to be meet by a dark and open space full of dead people dressed in weird costumes, so the only answer he has to this is to wail.
Because thats all he can do now, cry. He cries and cries after all what had occurred to him; he cries for his parents betrayal and rejection of his being, he cries for the cruelty they subjected him into, the torture he had to endure and almost making his core break, he cries for his friends deaths when they tried to free him from all his pain but failed.
He cries and cries until the pain into his core is unbearable because he just lost his fright, his connection to the living, his reason of being here. He’s still crying when his senses tenses the moment something changed in his surroundings, he hears fighting and grunting and something falling down and he cries harder; because he’s scared and tired and he just wants Jazz to carry him and…
There’s someone humming, nice humming, calm humming, steps coming closer and then he looks up, scared and hurt and just tired only to find a beautiful black headed and blue eyes woman dressed in a nice outfit crouching in front of him, she’s humming something to him and just looking at him with calm and such gentleness that it makes him croon at her because he feels his core sing ‘she’s nice and pretty and safeSAFEsafeSAFE’ he tries to reach out to her but his arms fell numb and ouchie and he looks up to her, in a silent plea for her so she would carry him but she’s not moving, just looking at him gently.
Until he sees another woman coming closer to them and he tenses up again, afraid and cautious, still a bit frightened by her aura but her hands are starting to glow and he immediately feels his body swaying and feeling a lot better, so he relaxes his body and let’s the pretty woman carry him so he can rest his head and nuzzle asleep.
His core sings pleased ‘I’m safe… she’s nice and safeSAFEsafeSAFE’
-TBC-
masterpost
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nyoomerr · 1 year ago
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A drabble about Bingge realizing his children’s beloved Head Imperial Tutor has the same soul as the ‘nice Shizun’ from that other world he once visited could be fun.
“Local man must compete with his own children for the attention of their very cute teacher!”
ahhh i love scenarios like this!! pitting bingge against his own kids is always so fun lol, hope you enjoy!
---
When Luo Binghe manages to find him, he isn’t even looking properly. He’s still spending his free time trying to find a way back into that weird mirror dimension, not scouring his world for anyone. After all, why would he look here? He already knows exactly where the Shen Qingqiu of his own world is; every bloody, rotten part of that body and soul is accounted for. Luo Binghe wants the other Shen Qingqiu, the one he’d gotten only a taste of, the one that had been so unfairly given to his doppelganger.
Perhaps, Luo Binghe thinks, watching through the doorway into the classroom his younger children use for self-study, he should have bothered to spend a bit more time looking at home before trying to force himself back into the mirror world.
“Ah, what are these tears?” One of the tutors is asking, tutting as if in disapproval even as he so gently wipes the face of one of Luo Binghe’s children. “You’re getting much better with your arithmetic, there’s no need to cry over a mistake now.”
The child hiccups, her little hands coming up to pull on the tutor’s robes, clearly trying to worm her way into his lap so she can wipe her face on his shoulder instead of on the perfectly fine handkerchief the tutor is trying to use.
Luo Binghe doesn’t even know which daughter of his that is. He doesn’t know who this tutor is, either, and yet -
The tutor raises his free hand up to pat soothingly at the child’s hair. He doesn’t try to unhook her hands from his robes, or stop her from shoving herself persistently closer to his person; he only pets her hair and wipes her face and tuts at her.
And yet somehow, Luo Binghe thinks, I’m sure that’s him.
It doesn’t make a great deal of sense to find this soul in a body unrelated to Shen Qingqiu, but at the same time it makes a whole world of sense to think of this kind teacher as someone entirely different from the cruel master Luo Binghe had grown up under.
Luo Binghe steps into the room properly, releasing the hold he’d been keeping on his qi to keep it held close to his body. The tutor looks up at the doorway, and frustratingly, the look of indulgence he’d been wearing just moments ago closes up. He stands and bows in unison with the other tutors in the room, and Luo Binghe flicks his hand dismissively so they know to ignore him and return to his duties.
The tutor - the kind Shizun’s soul - stands from his bow but does not immediately return to helping the girl he’d been working with. He only watches Luo Binghe a bit warily, clearly aware of Luo Binghe’s rapt attention on him, and continues to absently pat the hair of Luo Binghe’s daughter. The girl herself doesn’t seem to mind, as she’s managed to get close enough to the tutor to shove her face in his stomach and nuzzle in there, perfectly content and no longer crying. 
Well, no matter; if this man is already aware of Luo Binghe’s attention, no need to hide it further. Luo Binghe approaches without hesitation. 
“And what tutor has brought this Lord’s child to tears?” Luo Binghe asks after having reached the table that this tutor and child had been working at. He knows perfectly well that this man was not the cause of his daughter’s tears; he wants to know how he’ll respond anyway.
“This lowly one is Shen Yuan, my Lord,” Shen Yuan dutifully replies, and though he bows deeply he does not raise his hands from Luo Binghe’s daughter. “My most sincere apologies; I will accept punishment.”
Luo Binghe hums, satisfied. Good, he thinks, he’s already loyal to me. Very good.
Before he can say anything else, though, the girl buried in Shen Yuan’s robes shouts, “No!”
When Shen Yuan stands again, Luo Binghe can see his daughter peeking out, her face half turned away from Shen Yuan to glare up at Luo Binghe. 
“No?” Luo Binghe asks.
“No!” She shouts again. Her demonic huadian flares, and Luo Binghe raises his brows - this girl really dares issue such a threat to her father, knowing who her father is?
Shen Yuan, seeming to catch the very same thing, quickly moves the hand that had been in her hair to cover up her demonic huadian. This does not stop the girl herself from talking.
“If you try to punish Shen-ge, I’ll stab you!”
“Ah, wait -” Shen Yuan protests, pressing the girl further into him as if that will hide her away. He glances nervously at Luo Binghe, expression a bit pinched, and then -
“Who’s threatening Shen-ge?!” Comes a cry from across the room.
“Someone’s threatening Shen-ge?!”
“Lord Luo is threatening Shen-ge!!”
Suddenly, it seems like half the children in the room are gathered up in Shen Yuan’s robes, clinging to him and glaring at Luo Binghe as Shen Yuan frantically tries to soothe them with head pats and hushed whispers of Ah, don’t yell at him, anyone else is okay, but don’t yell at him!
Luo Binghe watches, amused and irritated and hungry all at once. Clearly, this Shen Yuan is already a treasure of his palace, and he hadn’t even known it - his own children have found this man before he himself did. 
Well, Luo Binghe thinks, watching Shen Yuan fluster more and more the longer Luo Binghe stays quietly watching the commotion, they may have him first, but I will be sure to have him last.
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shaisuki · 1 year ago
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。‧˚ʚ°ɞ˚‧。 ─── MY LOVE MINE ALL MINE.
when toji entered his shared home with you — he can hear the crying of his son. it hasn't stop since he left to get the medicine prescribed by his son's pediatrician. fever was it.
soft footsteps echoing in the floor. toji removing his coat and went to your bedroom. there he sees you. standing in front of the window. moonlight shining through it giving you a halo effect on you. he would be awestruck at you but his son's wailing had been relentless.
his baby with you, flushed skin with tears rolling endlessly in his chubby cheeks. a fever relief pad for babies pasted in his forehead to ease the heat of his fever. he watched as you cooed, rub the back of your baby but still it was useless.
toji sighs. it was rough. it wasn't all shit and giggles when parenting and seeing his baby isn't laughing or doing the same thing all over again plus you. exhaustion visible in your face and tiredness all over your body tending to his little boy. you didn't even notice him and before toji could take a step he hears you hum before you began to sing a familiar tune you always sing when you were pregnant with megumi.
“moon, a hole of light~” you began to sing the first verse and megumi's wailing turn to sniffles upon hearing your voice. the tears rolling in his cheeks turning into drops like dew in leaves after rain. the song hasn't been sung since your pregnancy and megumi stares at you wide eyed. the green in his irises similar to his father turning into one of calmer one.
you raised megumi to distract him while you continue to sing. “cause my love is mine, all mine~” his fingers making grabby motions to you and toji is entranced how you manage to calm your sick baby. “i love mine, mine, mine~” your voice soft. singing the song like a lullaby intended to heal the sick and mend broken hearts and the scarred man gazing at his son and especially to his wife can't help but to feel warm and giddy inside.
“nothing in the world belongs to me~” you continue to sing. your baby eyes wide while he stares at his mother. “but my love mine, all mine, all mine~” placing your son's body in your chest and his head into your shoulder. his breathing softening with hiccups. your palm rubbing his back to soothe the ache and megumi thankfully calmed down. sighing a small smile graces in your lips before bestowing a chaste kiss to his head. hair spiky and you softly laugh imagining how toji would look with his hair spiked up.
you began to sing the second verse and then you turned around to see toji. “my baby, here on earth~” he can see the words forming in your lips added by your angelic voice and he didn't know if he could love you better when you look at him to sing the words intended for him. “showed me what my heart was worth~....” the volume of your voice decreasing not breaking eye contact with your husband and then you greeted him. “toji.”
“megumi finally calmed down but the fever is still there. hopefully it'll be gone by morning.” you say. rocking back and forth to further your baby's comfort. “let me take it from here.” extending his arms and you slowly placed your baby in his. toji isn't good at it. stabbing a man's head is easier than carrying his blood and flesh but toji tries. be a good father and husband in which his father wasn't. it's different now. he thinks to himself. he wasn't alone. he have you and toji intended to make it this way until.... forever.
you rest your head in his shoulder while your hands softly brush megumi's hair. checking his temperature with worry etched in your face. “our child is strong.” toji comforts you. another feat he doesn't know he's capable of and the word our. you and him with your pride and joy resting in his chest. “he is.” smiling softly at your baby.
toji peered at you. his wife stronger than anything else. caring and loving with the voice that can touch one's very soul. calms the storms in its wake and toji thinks back on what good deed he must had done to deserve you. to deserve this life but nothing else matters with you and his life and this little brat.
and toji knows that he doesn't have love in him but now, he have and he intends to have it. to give it to you until there's nothing left in him cause his love didn't exist without you in his life.
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(got bored and decided to write this so enjoy and please tell me if you would like more HTTYD in the future in the comments!)
The Gates Of Valhalla
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Hiccup couldn't do anything but stare, wide eyed at you in front of him.
He could feel the world blur around him, his breathing picking up as he looked down at you, laying on the sand surrounded by the blue ice, eyes closed.
Chest never moving.
Hiccup could hear people talking, people like his mother and father, his father's hand on his shoulder as Hiccup tried his best to wake up from the nightmare.
He didn't.
"No…no, no, no! Oh, gods, no!" Hiccup cried out, quickly falling to his knees as he grabbed you, bringing you closer to him.
Almost on his lap, Hiccup checked for any sign, anything, that you were still in there.
He could feel the dread, the tears pricking his eyes and the hand of his father, his mother's stare at him as he checked for anything.
He looked for the small twitch in your face he saw every morning he woke up to you. He looked for the pattern your chest rose and fell, a rhythm he loved to feel while his head laid on your chest.
Hiccup cried, a tear falling down his face as he never found one movement.
He still prayed, putting his head to your heart to listen to the familiar best he used to calm down, only to find absolute silence.
You were gone.
Drago and his own dragon, a self proclaimed Alpha, owned by him, had sentenced you to your death.
Or rather, they had sentenced Hiccup to his death, but you being you, jumped in the way to sacrifice yourself, saving Hiccup's life, and forfeiting your own.
But all they did was sentence Hiccup to something far worse than death.
A life without you.
And they used Toothless to do their dirty work.
Hiccup heard the small growl of your own dragon, the way they nozelled their snout against your arm, trying to nudge you awake like they did every morning
You never moved.
Your eyes remained closed, Hiccup's eyes remained on your face, his hand cupping your cheek as he cried, crying for you to come back.
This wasn't how it was supposed to be.
Everything blurred into thin lines, all Hiccup could do was watch as just mere minutes, or an hour he didn't know, Toothless was taken by Drago, along with your life.
Hiccup and the rest of the dragon riders, your friends, Gobber and his mother and father, Valka and Stoick the Vast, all stood alongside the shore.
Hiccup had to be pried away from you, crying and clinging on to the love of his life, in order to place you on the shop, a sheet over you to send you off to the Gates of Valhalla.
Hiccup watched as his friends mourned. Never did he think he would see the day his own father cried, mourning the loss of a child who wasn't even his, but one he watched grow up alongside him.
Hiccup starred as the ship slowly sailed off, a bow and flaming arrow in his hand, limping held with a heavy heart as he watched you leave.
This wasn't how it was supposed to be.
You were supposed to come home with Hiccup. You were supposed to get older, beside Hiccup and your dragon.
Hiccup was supposed to be the cause of the laugh and smile wrinkles on your face as you got older.
Hiccup was meant to stand before you and reiterate an oath he did when you guys stood in the woods as mere seven year olds, promising to marry and to stay by each other's side.
Hiccup couldn't help but be angry at himself and you. It was meant to be him. Not you. He was meant to be lying under that sheet. Not you.
The anger didn't last long, the sadness and heavy feeling in his chest overpowering it.
With a small nudge from his mother, Hiccup let one more tear fall, before his trembling hand lifted his arrow, notching it back.
Hiccup closed his eyes, turning his head away as he let it go.
Hiccup only opened his eyes once more when he heard every arrow stop, looking up to see your ship engulfed in flames.
It was the burial of a viking. One you would have wanted.
But Hiccup would've rather had you standing beside him, rather than leaving him behind with your memory.
"...Hiccup."
Hiccup barely looked at his father, his hand now coming back to rest on his shoulder. Hiccup didn't answer, looking back as your ship was almost engulfed in the fog, the flames growing bigger.
Hiccup had to say goodbye, with a heavy and hesitant heart, anger, fear and sadness creeping down into his gut.
It should've been him. Not you.
He shouldn't mourn the love of his life at a mere twenty years old, and even if he spent those twenty years with you, he would have to go on, grow older, as you were forever twenty.
"...I pray to the gods I will find you waiting at the gates of Valhalla, (Name)."
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reidrum · 5 months ago
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good night moon | s.r
A/N: hi again ! this one is deeply self indulgent i fear but who cares i hope you like it as much as i do <3 ps let me know what kinda fics i should write next !!
cw: spencer reid x bau!reader, cm type violence, reader is afab but this only is referred to when mentioning reader is a daughter, sad thoughts, hurt/comfort, talks about nightmares, spencer just wants to take care you gdm it why won’t you let him
wc: 2.4k
_______________________________________________
trudging up the stairs of the bullpen, you tried your best to use whatever sense you had left to beeline to the kitchen to make another cup of coffee. thank god the bau had minimal reflective surfaces because you’re sure you look like the evil old lady from snow white. that was just, your opinion of course. to everyone else you looked fine.
fine was so subjective. what did these fuckers know about being fine? they weren’t the ones on the mission. they don’t know what you saw, how you did nothing, how you couldn’t do anything.
“FBI hands up!” you yell holding your gun and flashlight at the unsub. he’s holding the victim at knifepoint, a twelve year old girl who reminded you too much of yourself.
this unsub’s MO was kidnapping eldest daughters of families that had sons as well, because he believed the son should be the eldest child with the most responsibility and that the daughters were only there to create more babies. the team had deduced that he was the youngest child to an older sister who he felt had too much control over him, combined with his fascination with the perfect nuclear family, it slowly turned him into a sociopathic killer.
“come any closer and i’ll slit her throat!” the unsub bellowed, getting dangerously close to her carotid artery.
“you don’t wanna do that, man,” derek says behind you, “just put the knife down and we can talk.”
“there’s nothing left to talk anymore! i’m already going to prison. there’s no point.”
you called out the unsub’s name, “i know how you’re feeling, i have a younger brother too and he feels the same way you do sometimes. what your sister did to you was not okay, but not all sisters are like that. we just want to care for our family. let them have the chance to be the big sister you wished for.”
the unsub seemed to contemplate your words for a minute, then looks up at you with eyes devoid of any light, “then this one is dedicated to you, agent.” and he drags the knife across her neck leaving waterfalls of blood coming out.
you’re not really sure what happened next. a gun went off, presumably derek’s, to kill the unsub. and then it was you screaming as you rushed to the young girl to try and stop her bleeding, but it was no use. the cut was deep enough to nick that damn carotid and all you could do was hold her in her last moments.
“te- tell my family i love them, and that i’m sorry.” the young girl spurts out so softly you almost didn’t hear it.
“no sweet girl, don’t be sorry,” you say through hiccuped cries, “i’m sorry i couldn’t save you.”
the last thing you remember was feeling strong hands carrying you out of the building. you couldn’t hear much, the sound of your wails pretty much masked anything in a five mile radius. you could taste the iron lingering in your mouth from biting your lip too hard and desperately collecting the salty tears and sweat trickling down your face. at first you smelled smoke and dust, most likely from being in the cave where the unsub was. but as you were being dragged away from the crime scene you were influxxed with a musky scent, and a hint of vanilla with that fresh laundry smell. spencer. the last thing you see are his worried little brown eyes staring down at you before everything goes dark.
that was monday. it is now thursday. the case had wrapped up, the unsub was dead the families were notified and now you all were in the office doing your paperwork for the case.
and all of you were doing fine, right? everyone else had already coped and processed the case, already stepping back into their normal life routines. but you, you couldn’t have it that easy, but god you wish you did.
since that day, you’d been holing up in your apartment with all the lights turned on. you sat in your living room, eating a bowl of fruit loops and watching bluey, because listen it’s a great show and we should acknowledge it. you cry out loud seeing bluey care for her little sister bingo, and it brings you back to that dusty cave and the bloodied hands.
you could feel sleep creeping up on you, yet you subconsciously found a way to push bedtime by doing menial tasks like cleaning, extra long skincare, watching a movie. when you ran out of things to do, you entered your room and just stared at your bed. how were you supposed to admit to yourself that the horror isn’t in the movie you just watched where the creepy demons kill everyone, but it’s what is waiting for you behind closed eyelids.
so the only logical solution was to just, not sleep. you whipped out every trick in the book to stay awake for as long as you could— energy drinks, coffee, splashing cold water, anything so you wouldn’t have to reface your plagued memories.
spencer observed you from a distance. he watched as you got coffee a whopping three times before 10am, you picking at your skin, not to mention the bags growing under your eyes. it was then he formed a hypothesis, he was a scientist after all. that you simply were not sleeping because of the case. it was much less a hypothesis and more of a fact because he knew exactly what it was upon first sight of you, hell he invented the sleep avoidance look.
and as the inventor it meant he knew the feeling more intimately than he would like to admit. spencer knew what it felt like to be debilitated by the confines of your brain, holding onto shreds of memories you know are not worth remembering but have somehow marked their territory anyway. and everyone coped differently, for spencer he isolated himself for days and then threw himself into work. for you? well, that was the next part of spencer’s experiment.
spencer approaches you in the kitchen as you’re pouring your fourth cup before noon, “hi.”
“hi.”
“how are you? feels like we haven’t talked in a bit.”
“i’m good, sorry i’ve just been. busy.”
spencer frowned internally, he knew you weren’t doing a single thing but working at the office. “are you okay? do you want to talk about last week?”
you cut him off abruptly and start walking out, “i really have to finish these reports spence, talk to you later.”
spencer knew better, he should give you space to cope by yourself. you were an adult, you can take care of yourself. but you shouldn’t have to, he thinks. spencer still tells himself he knows better as he’s waiting on your doorstep that night, about to the rapp the door.
after a minute of no answer he knocks again this time calling your name through the door, “will you let me in please? i want to show you something.”
still nothing. he continues, “i know what you’re feeling, and i want to help, please.”
he almost gives up and turns around when he hears the turn of a lock and slight creek of the door opening to see you in all your beautiful glory.
now you, you were definitely a sight for sore eyes. avengers pj shorts with a baggy uni t shirt, hair flying in any direction, and a look that spencer could only describe as grief. but god if you weren’t the most beautiful human he’d seen in his life, he’d be lying.
you were coming up on day 3? or was it 4? of no sleep. it’s not like you were not sleeping at all you took little 30 minute naps each day, enough to get you some shut eye but not enough to make it your rem stage of sleep.
spencer speaks again, “can i come in?” you nod silently and open the door wider for him to step in. he removes his shoes and it’s then you notice a big ole tote bag he’s lugging to your living room.
“what’s in the bag?”
“ah, come sit. i brought magical things.” he smiles playfully.
you shuffle over to sit a seat’s cushion away from him and watch as he starts pulling item by item from his mary poppins bag.
candles, essential oils, books, but specifically romance novels with the silly cartoon covers that he swears aren’t real books but you argue with him until he concedes, melatonin gummies, pillow sleep spray, and one more item that he’s holding onto for what seems to be dramatic effect. you’re not amused.
“and the piece de resistance,” he presents the last item, and you look confused for a second, until you recognize the item in front of you and immediately start tearing up. in his hands is a grogu weighted stuffed animal that he holds out for you to take. “i know you’re not sleeping. it happened to me when, you know. i figured it would be helpful if you had someone who could empathize how you’re feeling. and because you’re my best friend and i care about you.”
your bottom lip trembles, and you feel the ice block you’ve kept yourself in this past week start to melt uncontrollably. “spence…” you breathe out so quietly. he did all this? for you? doctor spencer reid went out to the store, and bought a grogu stuffed animal for you to cuddle at night to ease your loneliness?
the concept of being taken care of was so foreign to you, as the eldest daughter in your family it was always you taking care of others and making sure everyone was okay. but rarely did anyone check on you, how you were holding up. and you had learned to cope by yourself, to handle the big emotions by yourself, but for once, someone was willing to take all that weight off your shoulders and let you breathe. and god, did it feel so cathartic you could burst out in sobs.
so you did.
“hey,” he says scooting closer to you so he can scoop you into his chest, “was that a lot? penelope said i’d probably overwhelm you but all of the things i brought are scientifically proven sleep additives-“
“no i just, that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.” you whimper.
spencer’s eyes soften, “you deserve it. what happened last week… was hard. i just wanted to help.”
“thank you,” he hears a muffled response and rubs his hands affectionately down your back, “damn, all this crying is making me so tired.”
“see! the magic of the poppins bag.” he chuckles. you laugh too. spencer thinks all the flowers in a mile radius just bloomed.
“it’s just,” you start out, nuzzling into his chest deeper, “the second i close my eyes and dream, i see her. and how i couldn’t save her. and how the others i couldn’t save either.” you feel your chest seizing up again.
“okay well hey, hey. you did what you were trained to do. any other agent in your position would’ve tried talking him down the way you did. and your personal story gave you an advantage that no one else would’ve had. statistically speaking, you were the best chance at getting through to him. yeah it didn’t work, but it wouldn’t be probability if it always worked,” he cradles your face in his big hands, “we’re all so proud of you, you know. rossi’s waiting for you to be back on your feet so he can host pasta night at his hou- sorry his mansion again.”
spencer looks down at you properly to your tear stained cheeks and brushes your hair back. he sees the pain and tiredness fighting behind your eyes and asks softly, “what do you need right now?”
“i’m tired.” you lament.
“then lets go sleep.”
“i can’t.”
“why not?”
“im scared.”
“well that’s why i brought the stuff silly goose,” he taps your nose, “come on, let’s go set it up.”
spencer brings all the sleep aids to your room and sets them up appropriately, even plugging in your sunrise lamp to help with the ambient lighting. the only thing left to do is for you to get into your bed.
you both stand on opposite sides of your bed, and he’s waiting for you to get in so can tuck you in. you hesitate and look up at him with the same worried eyes he saw all those days ago.
“could you stay for bit?”
“i can stay for some time if you want” you both speak at the same time. you giggle again, spencer thinks an angel got its wings.
thank god he wore sweats and a comfy t shirt he thinks. he slid in under the blanket and holds it open for you to come in, “come on, you’re missing the cuddle party with grogu and i!” you beam widely and finally sink into your bed.
spencer pulls you into his chest, wrapping an arm around your shoulder blade, and the other taking a spot on your hip rubbing soft circles. you lay your head to rest on his chest, right above his beating heart. you try to let the metronomic thumps lull you to sleep, but spencer can still feel your eyelashes fluttering about on his chest. he knows what you’re thinking, because of course he does.
“look at me,” he nudges you, you look up at his eyes again and see nothing but pure love and reassurance as he continues, “you are safe. nothing can hurt you. i promise.”
“are you sure?” you let out meekly,
“i’m sure. it’s okay, go to sleep,” he presses a gentle kiss to the crown of your forehead. “i’ll be here when you wake up.”
you shakily take a deep breath, and close your eyes.
after five minutes of spencer rubbing shapes into your back, he can finally hear the soft snores coming from below. he places another kiss on your head, whispers, “good night angel girl,” and doses off.
you wake up the next morning feeling so rested and relieved you can’t help but give spencer a big hug that wakes him up. spencer thinks he’d be the luckiest man in the universe if he could wake up like this everyday.
653 notes · View notes