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STURGEON SUNDAY. BITCH!!!!!!!!!
1/28/24, ITS STURGEON
#diary#really though been doing alright mostly#need to figure out how im gonna get lab orders and blood test before end of january (not happening)#but have been brushing teeth consistently#which makes me feel like superman#vinny doing very well and both him an lubic are very very good pals#he is also getting bold about other peoples food however. i was habing my dinner last night and when he saw it he started purring#and i had to fight him off gently
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I'VE FINALLY FINISHED BROTHERSHIP IT WAS SOOOOO GOOD!!!!!!!
#clai speaks#spoilers in the tags probably#ahhh first of all i am still astounded the game exists at all. we all thought m&l was done forever but here it is!!!#the timing of me playing superstar saga and getting really into mario last year couldnt have been better#i mean i probably would have played brothership still even if mario hadnt become a main interest of mine like that. but anyway#absolutely stellar re-entry into the series it did not disappoint in the SLIGHTEST#i think i 100%'d it? only thing i didnt do was finish that last dyode dance sequence but like its fiiiine#took about 50 hours i didnt get a chance to check my final time. really surprised that the game went that long!#i dont think it was a bad thing at all though. the game mostly didnt feel like it was overstaying its welcome#i did think lottacoins and the lower level solitree went a tad too long and i didnt like them but only a little. they're still fine sections#surprised that i didnt even feel like the sidequests were a drag they were all alright!#character interactions were so good ofc. love the new cast!! starlow felt a bit flat which is a shame but she also didnt appear much so#the sidequest where she visits bowser and he calls her chippy!!!! made me so happy!!!!!#all the callbacks were so good i'm glad they can still do that. yelled out loud after finding the peasley reef#docking points for no dreambert reef however. jail worthy offence#on reclusa specifically i dont have a lot to say about his character he's just your typical evil for the sake of evil villain#but i have to say i Love his design. the really exaggerated facial expressions and that clown neck frill. really fun character actually!!#ahhh call me childish but i'm never a fan of endings where friends separate but i like to think the second uni-tree--#--will allow them to link back up once its grown and can generate more connectar to do it#cant say if its my favorite yet bc recency bias is still too fresh but its absolutely my second favorite m&l game at least!!#i havent played paper jam yet i wanted to play the original paper mario and spm first. but i always hear its bad so??#brothership is at least on par with dream team for me rn. absolutely stellar game#i hope this means we'll get more m&l someday! i've already left a very positive response on the survey they put out#anyway. now to decide what to play next because i have a MASSIVE backlog of games and i didnt think this would take this long BJDHJFHF#10/10!!!! please play brothership immediately
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"reblog for something lgbt to happen to you" at this point i'd be grateful if something straight happened to me
#bluebird.txt#i'd love to stop feeling like an unlikeable freak!!!#i get it i'm gay i look at least like a lesbian and at queerest as Some Thing I'm Not Sure How to Gender#but like. damn bro!#not even anyone? at all?#first of all i get no attention from girls and there's barely any thems (and im friends with most of the thems)#secondly not that i want the attention of cishet men but as i said before i'll take fucking anything to feel something#the most i get from cishet men has been laughing when i run because im late to class or a concert#like okay wow you find someone just running funny? i pity your entire brain#i think im just bored#its not like i understand romantic stuff any more really#i understand it on a logical level i think#but tell me why when i find a girl i have a huge crush on the SECOND i just need out platonically with someone else#the girl evaporates from my brain#and when i make the attempt to put myself out there and be like hey wanna go on a date?#all will to actually go on the date also evaporates?#she hasn't answered and that's an answer so im like alright even if you texted me late i actually do not care if i never see you again#not in a malicious way!!! just in a very bland you have not made a meaningful impact on my life way even though you seem cool!#which doesn't sound much better but trust me i mean these factually objectively not personally meanly#i have other friends mostly cis friends who have gotten guys after them and as much as like most of those guys are at best#a little annoying and at worst sort of creeps#like. THAT'S NEVER HAPPENED TO ME EITHER!!!#when i walk alone on campus esp when it's dark i do worry about assault and rape and stuff#but that's just the statistics and stuff#i know i'm not immune but in a weird way not being liked by anyone at all gives me reassurance that well#at least i'll probably never be assaulted at least not any time soon bc no one's ever looked at this (me) and had any kinds of#attracted thoughts#though that's definitely a false sense of security#after all someone could decide they hate transgenders and gender ambiguous people and assault me of course that could always happen!#i don't think it's likely to but. you never know!
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the urge to talk my head off vs. the calm of quiet vs. the Thoughts
#just me hi#vs. the Spookiness#anyway i have not been able to focus at all today#which could be credited to me staying up til like 1 a.m. last night#which i really don't know why i did. the mysteries of this world!!#/anywho thinkin about the Pink again#mostly the magic system cuz i'm still working out the kinkssssssss#like there's Camouflage and Minor Transformation and then there's also inventories which is just a bit of fun for me hbfhs#but that's jumping ahead of ritual Types- and then also jumping ahead of how the magic system works on itself so yea lol :)#//oh yea also bc i am a master at procrastinating lmao--#tryna figure out where i'd want pi.e to be mainly posted cuz i hate vertical scroll but also don't know if i want to put pages up seperatel#cuz i dunno.. i don't really like that for my own thang too much hfhsh#yea though.. still tryna figure that out#// oh i've gotta finish some stuff i'm drawing too lol#i am drawing a gun in perspective which isn't fun for two awesome reasons:#i don't draw guns#i funkin hate perspective so bad can somebody get me out of here hello lmfshvhg#anyway aside from that it's alright hghfjshv :3#/and ik i'm sort of apprehensive abt cussing online (that's for a couple reasons pfsvh) but i'm prolly gonna leave this uncensored#just cuz like. i Do have a mouth on me and i'd like to use it now and then hbfsh :)#and also saying this so i don't back out. you hear me [<- pointing at self]#yea though!! gonna finish this :3#/got apollo in here to see if i drew this thang right and i DID YIPEEEE#he's like super super into guns and has given me very long lectures when i draw them poorly so this is like winning a 5k HFbvhsjh#YAYYY i am Winning out here hgsbvhf#OKAY i'm gonna pop off to finish what i'm doin now :3#making food and drawing. two things that are not done effectively while typing lol#YE going now.. i'm going.. oo.. i'm gone.. ohh... toodles pfshv :D !!
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4, 9, 24!! hope you're doing well btw :D
4: what's your favourite moment in game?
there are tons of small silly moments i like (stuff like when reko and joe explore together in chapter 1 and there's that bit of dialogue where they're either fighting over who gets to give gin a piggyback or joe is yelling in reko's ear) buuut if i must pick one... i really had to think about but i kept coming back to the end of the final attraction / chapter 2A so that's what i'm going with. i knowww that's a bit too broad (more of a part of the game than a singular moment but. anyway) but whether or not you push the reko doll, whether q-taro hits the button or not, whichever death occurs and ranger's death + gashu's entrance following it... the drama! the revelations! such a tense part of the game and the outcome is always a kind of loss. god. love love love
9: which character dynamic/friendship is your favourite?
it's hard for me not to say sara and keiji when you play the game as sara and spend far too much time around keiji, and it really is a fascinating dynamic tbh. the trust or lack thereof and the dependence and the way it directly impacts your experience as you play because it dictates that you see and feel things the way sara does. the absolute leap from suspicion to reliance, and the still unshakeable feeling that Something's Up, because why did keiji trust so much right off the bat? yeah . they're up there for me for sure. in a more general sense i'm a sucker for family (adjacent) dynamics so stuff like the yabusames and most of kai's relationships also hit hard for me
24 : in YTTS, which fondness events are your favourite?
ohhh it's so hard to choose... i'll take advantage of the plural here and list several - kai and reko's events are absolutely up there for me! the first two are so funny and always make me crack up, and the last one is a really lovely insight into kai. his events with nao and kanna are also favourites of mine since they're a really nice blend of funny and sweet while also exploring the characters (kai's dialogue in his nao events often forms the brunt of my thoughts on his character). as for mishima, i love his event w/ q-taro for similar reasons as to why i like kai and reko's - very funny AND god i love the stuff with q-taro and his parents and the orphanage... gah. mishima's event w/ kai is also great. and shout out to both keiji fondness events so far being so absurd they'll haunt me forever whether i like it or not
#i spent so long sitting here contemplating. ohh i can't pick just One Favourite they're all great. everything's great#also i've been doing alright!! ty for asking :DD mostly just been chilling for the summer#although i really should get some work done before i go back to school... i'm more likely to use the remainder of summer for#drawing/writing though. and whether i will finish anything in that regard is also a mystery. we shall see......#hope you've been doing well also!!#ask tag#yttd
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I can't stop thinking about Ghost being a better boyfriend than your ex, even without establishing that title....
This is a continuation of part one.
warning: mention domestic abuse
💀
Simon was there every night you worked. You never gave him your schedule, but he'd show up and settle onto one of the stools like clockwork. Soap often joined him, and while they carried on like always, you knew Simon's gaze lingered on your body. You could practically feel the weight as you took drink orders and pulled pints. It wasn't unwelcome. In fact, it made everything easier knowing you weren't alone if your ex dared show his face.
When your shifts ended, Simon would walk you back to your new place. The one time you insisted he didn't need to do that, he grunted and said, "What if I want to?"
You didn't mention it again. Instead you got into a routine of giving him a fifteen minute warning when your shift was going to end, and you'd head out into the cold night with him at your side. He was mostly quiet while you chatted about whatever was on your mind. When you'd ask him about himself, he'd reroute the conversation back to you. Then he would wait while you unlocked your door and stepped inside.
You always had the urge to invite him in, but you were taking up so much of his time already. And what would you do with him anyway? This hulking military man with kind eyes?
You thanked him and gave him a little wave before ducking inside, and you knew he always waited until he heard the sound of your door locking before he left.
"Y' alright, love?" he asked one night when you were starting to feel particularly good about yourself again. Your split lip had healed which required less makeup. You felt stronger for having left your ex in the dust. You were wearing a new top that made you feel sexy.
"Yeah. I'm alright, Simon. I feel really good, actually."
You served him a drink and refused to let him pay. You really ought to make him stop tipping you at this rate. He was doing so much for you and getting nothing in return. He was doing all of the boyfriend duties just as he had promised, but he never so much as touched you other than the occasional hand hold.
What if you wanted more?
He broke into your thoughts as he said, "I can tell. Ya' been smiling more. Almost ready to go?"
Tonight you felt like you were floating along the dirty sidewalk with your hand tucked in Simon's massive paw. He was keeping you warm without doing anything, and he listened to your nervous rambling as you tried your best to work up your courage. But the two of you reached your front door all too quickly.
"Get inside," he said, voice deep and tender in spite of the command. "An' lock up."
When he started to pull his hand away, you didn't let him. And you didn't budge when one of his eyebrows inched higher. "Not quite yet," you whispered, toe tapping the cement step you were standing on which put you slightly closer to him in height. "I have to tell you something."
Simon's lips pressed together in a tight line, and his chin dipped in a slight nod. "I need to tell ya' something, too. Just don't want to."
"What?" you asked immediately, the lightness you'd been feeling instantly replaced with a lead brick inside you.
"I'm leaving. Late tomorrow night. Not until after I make sure ya' get home from the pub."
"Leaving?" you whispered, heart pounding faster. He was in the military. Some sort of special mission involvement. You knew that much. And you could read between the lines to know that someone who looked and behaved like he did was probably about to risk his life, not for the first time. "Simon, where are you going?" you asked with tears in your eyes even though you figured he wouldn't be able to tell you.
Simon shook his head, his lips curling into a soft smile. It was a rare sight, and it made you dizzy. "Pretty little thing like you shouldn't be worried 'bout me." You wanted to tell him you would be. You'd worry nonstop until you saw him again. You'd come to rely on him, but mostly you liked how you felt when he was around. "There'll be someone to walk ya' home from work every night. I can promise that."
You wanted to lean in and kiss him, but instead you threw your arms around his neck. He was so solid and warm, and the scrape of his facial hair on your cheek was somehow comforting. "But I'll see you tomorrow, right?" you asked, voice breaking on a sob.
"I'll see ya' tomorrow, love."
He didn't move an inch as you extracted yourself, and the sound of his receding footsteps could only be heard once you'd locked yourself inside.
💀
Part three
#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon riley cod#simon ghost riley#ghost simon riley#simon riley#simon ghost x reader#simon riley imagine#simon ghost x you#ghost call of duty#ghost cod#ghost imagine#ghost riley#call of duty x reader#cod x reader#ghost x reader#ghost x you#call of duty fanfic#simon riley fanfic#ghostsprincess
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when do we get to see megumi in your new series ^3^
𝐛𝐞𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 ! [toji fushiguro]
synopsis: “you really are your mother’s son,” toji grumbles to megumi as the little brat yet again refuses another kiss from him.
pairing: toji fushiguro x f!reader | art: @/amulin67 on twt/ig | hidden inventory: the lost tapes series masterlist
warnings: n/a | a/n: finally welcoming megumi to this series, yay! 💓💞
“I’m just gonna go nap for a bit. Promise me you’ll wake me up if something happens. But either way, his bottle is over there, just heat it up when he gets hungry and you know where his diapers are—“
You are interrupted by a sweet kiss that still manages to catch you off guard ‘till this day.
“I wasn’t done, you know.” You place your hands on your hips, shooting him a warning glance. “And don’t you go tossing him too high. Need I remind you, our apartment has a literal ceiling fan—“
“—You worry too much,” Toji cuts you off again with another kiss. “Not gonna lie though, seeing you all worked up like that is kinda turning me on.”
“You’re horrible,” you conclude. Honestly, at this point, almost anything and everything you do can be classified as a thirst trap for Toji. You blush when Toji inches closer, his hips pressed against yours, a smirk plastered on his face when he sneakily squeezes your ass causing you to yelp. “Ah! Toji!” you swat his hand away, burying your blushing face in his chest.
Chuckling at you, he plants a soft kiss on your temple as he pulls away. “Alright, mama, go get some rest. I’ll hold down the fort.”
“Thank you.”
No one ever told you that motherhood would be so stressful. Which is why you’re so blessed to have a supportive husband who may have started out a little awkward with caring for your newborn son but gradually became a natural with this whole fatherhood business as time went by. And that’s mostly because when Megumi arrived in this world at half past two in the afternoon of December 22 with nothing more but a small hiccup as he slipped into his papa’s waiting arms, Toji fell in love. And you don’t pretend to not know why. Because whenever you look at Megumi, your heart always just seems to melt at his pudgy rose-colored cheeks and his deep expressive green eyes that fill up with tears regardless if he’s crying or being overcome by a laughing fit whenever you pepper his tiny face with kisses.
Speaking of kisses, today’s latest fiasco is centered exactly on that: kisses.
You see, you have this habit that goes way back to when you and Toji first started dating. Toji remembers it well, you have certain moods when it comes to kisses. Sometimes, you’re the one initiating it which mostly results in Toji becoming an incoherent blushing mess, or most times, Toji gets the party started by slowly kissing up your neck, his breath hot on your earlobe as he presses his hips against yours while you slept fitfully, your hushed dulcet whines ringing in his ear as your lips instinctively find each other. Fun fact: that’s exactly how Megumi came to be.
But there are times too, when you were just not having it and you’d gently nudge Toji’s face away when he tries to kiss you.
It was a typical afternoon. Toji didn’t have work that day which was a huge relief for him because you’ve been suffering from dizziness and lower back pain all day. And being the helicopter partner and soon-to-be papa that he is, Toji keeps a close eye on you as you nap the afternoon away on the couch. He smiles softly as he sees you instinctively put a protective hand over your belly whenever you’d feel the slightest movements from the baby.
“Shhh, you’re alright,” he’d whisper to you as you slept, combing his fingers through your hair, a permanent worried frown on his face when a whimper falling from your pursed lips as the baby kicks you again. “It’s just the overgrown parasite fidgeting around.”
“Don’t call him that.” You brush his hand away, your eyebrows knitting in discomfort.
Toji chuckles, going to press a kiss to your soft lips only for you to place your entire palm on his face, applying gentle force to pry him away. “I mean, what is he then? Other than this thing that competes for your nutrients? He’s—“
“—Our baby boy.”
“—An overgrown parasite.”
Fuming at his words, you decide to hit back with a quick retort of your own. “Yeah? It really does take one to know one, huh?”
“What a cute comeback but maybe not as cute as you,” Toji smirks, his hand gently removing your smaller one from his face, his lips puckered up as he leans in. Teasingly, you place a hand over your lips, still refusing to indulge him with his much-craved kisses. “Come on, I just want one sloppy one~”
“No!” Your laughter-filled voice comes out muffled against your palm.
“Mm, yes,” Toji teases. “Yes. Come on, baby, just one.”
“You and I both know it’s never just one.”
Of course. Why else would you be in this situation if Toji knew how to spell the words: self and control? Still, it’s not like the two of you were complaining. After all, the bond you and Toji share is an unbreakable one that’s only been strengthened by time and the many trials you’ve survived together. And now, the arrival of the very product of your love is only a hair’s breath away. Toji rests his chin on top of your head, plopping down next to you and spooning you from behind. “Guilty as charged.”
And unfortunately, it seemed your son had inherited that troublesome quirk of yours and it’s beginning to break Toji’s infuriated heart because whenever he tries to give Megumi a kiss…
“Mmph—“
There it was.
Toji’s eyes shot open, grimacing as Megumi turns his head away, his eyes trained stubbornly on his dog plushie, and his chubby hands pushing his poor papa’s chin away with all the might a six-month-old like him could muster. And to top things off, he must be imagining things because newborns surely couldn’t scowl right? Their tiny little brains couldn’t possibly have enough electrical energy to charge a snow globe much less, learn how to hate certain people’s kisses.
“You little shit—“
Sure enough, the tiny little baby seems gravely unamused, his eyebrows are knitted, the corner of his lips curled into a disappointed frown as if to say: Go kiss someone else, you even bigger shit.
Toji mirrors the unfriendly scowl on his son’s face, noting how Megumi seems to be glaring at him. Oh, okay. The brat ain’t messing around, his eyes twitches but somehow, Toji is also a picture of a proud father. At least the little shit’s got spunk. And he wonders momentarily who he should blame for that.
Definitely not him, that’s for sure.
Toji doesn’t recall the last time he’s ever had the comforts of a peace like this one. Actually, this might just be the first time that Toji knew what that word meant: “peace”. A freedom from disturbance; tranquility, as per the Merriam Webster Dictionary. But Toji has a better definition for peace: you and Megumi.
But…
“I meant what I said to your mother though,” Toji engages in a one-way conversation with his son. He won’t recall any of this, but it didn’t hurt for Toji to be candid about his feelings every now and then especially when it came to this little one that came accidentally into your lives but brightened it up nonetheless. “The two of you would be better off — maybe even happier — with someone else.” He presses his thumb against Megumi’s cheek. “It’s what you two deserve.”
He’s been gone close to a whole day now and you were probably beginning to worry. Out of all the shitty things Toji has done, this, by far, has to be the shittiest. Standing outside a pachinko den, his back pressed against the wall, and his hand absentmindedly playing with the tokens he just bought. When he left the apartment that day, you knew that could very well be the last time you ever see him. Types like him aren’t keen on the whole picket fence idea of settling down.
“I’m heading out today.”
Your blood runs cold when Toji steps into the kitchen to inform you of his plans. You don’t even bother to look at him, your gaze simply settled on the positive pregnancy test on the table. The right thing to do was to stay, he should have held you in his arms and tell you that everything’s going to be okay not plant seeds of doubt in your mind by taking off and running away like a coward.
But for once, Toji was scared.
He had no business becoming a father when he’s lived in a dysfunctional household for majority of his life. What good would he even impart to his child? His pathetic existence has been a picture of disorder that was only recently resolved when you came into the picture. Well, if he were being completely honest, he still hasn’t figured things out quite as well yet. And as a father, that could be catastrophic for a child that required stability if nothing else.
Frowning, Toji leaves the pachinko den, chucking the tokens in the trash. It was far too early in the day to be hanging around shady places like these anyway. He wanders the streets for a good while, his hands buried in his jacket’s pockets as his mind swirls with thoughts about the all too terrifying future.
A pang of guilt strikes his heart and he wonders what you’re doing now. You must still be in the kitchen, your face buried in your hands as you try to think of something. You were probably assuming he wasn’t coming back. After all, you did say: “I don’t wanna pressure you into staying, Toji. You deserve to live your life the way you want it.”
A life without you? Sounds pretty miserable.
Toji must have been walking on autopilot because for some reason, he unknowingly finds himself in front of a bank. Mizuho Bank, Toji reads the sign, his eyes flicking over to one of the posters plastered on the window about opening a savings account.
He looks at the promotional material, transfixed at the picture of a family of four donning on those typical wide stupid grins in ads, the father is holding a hundred yen bill and is seen dropping it into a piggy bank that was filled with both cash and words like: health insurance, family vacation, utility bills, rent, tax, school, and…happiness.
…
…
…
Toji returns to the apartment at around eight in the evening after making a quick stop at the supermarket and the pharmacy. He finds you asleep on the couch, your cheeks stained with dry tears. He crouches on the edge of the couch, worriedly taking in your appearance. You’ve been crying. “Hey…hey, wake up,” he gently shakes you awake and your tired eyes flutter open. “Got you something.”
He holds out a shopping bag, chock full of fresh produce, and from the pharmacy, some camphor oil to relieve your symptoms and those folate supplements the attending pharmacist kept yapping about.
“You didn’t leave,” you said, bewildered. “I thought you—“
“—You thought wrong,” Toji says firmly. He pulls out something from his back pocket and you stare at him, perplexed.
“A bank passbook?” You open it to see that Toji had just made his first deposit amounting to fifty thousand yen earlier today. “You opened a savings account?”
Toji nods, looking a little proud of himself. “Yeah,” he tries to play it off with a shrug of his shoulders. “Every week, we’ll be depositing fifteen thousand yen in that thing. Ten thousand for your maternity needs, and five for the little brat’s schooling one day.”
Tears spring to your eyes upon realizing that Toji was here to stay. “You mean you’re—?” You are cut off by a warm kiss on your lips, and you place a hand over Toji’s chest, your fingertips gripping the fabric of his shirt as his lips move against yours. He pulls away after a while.
“Gonna spite the hell out of the Zenin clan and send my brat to the most expensive preschool in Tokyo? Yes, I am.”
Toji sighs, his thumb rubbing across Megumi’s chubby cheek. “But maybe — just maybe — hear me out and don’t you give me another glare.” Megumi’s not gonna remember any of this. After all, memories begin when the brain can fully register speech. But Toji felt the need to say this so, subconsciously, his son will understand just how much he’s done and he’s willing to do for the both of you.
“…Maybe I deserve the two of you too, you know.”
Megumi looks up at his father, curiosity gleaming in his eyes. Toji sticks his tongue out at the little one causing the latter to…hiccup? Nah, Toji was sure that was a giggle.
Smirking, Toji leans down to give his son a kiss, thinking he’s patched things up between them now only for Megumi to curl up again, his feet and hands resisting against Toji, his lip downturned in effort as he pushes him away yet again. Conceding, Toji grumbles, rubbing the spot where Megumi roughly pushed him away.
“You really are your mother’s son.”
#—𝙝𝙞𝙙𝙙𝙚𝙣 𝙞𝙣𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙮: 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙖𝙥𝙚𝙨 🍓#toji fushiguro x reader#toji headcanons#toji imagine#jjk toji#toji x reader#toji x y/n#dilf toji#toji x you#toji fushiguro#jujutsu kaisen toji#toji zenin#jujutsu toji#jujustu kaisen#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk x y/n#toji fushiguro x y/n#toji fushiguro x you#toji fluff#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x you#toji zenin x you#toji zenin x reader#dilf toji zenin#dad!toji#megumi fushiguro#jjk drabbles#toji zenin x y/n fluff
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with the way that barton was looking at the corner that jervis was still in that time, one could tell that he was feeling miserable. his eyes were glazed over, and the pallor he'd suddenly come down with several times that day returned: successfully making barton look a little bit like a 'zombie.' the thin sheen of sweat that had formed on the surface of his skin only completed the look, it seemed. that wasn't even counting the way he felt inside however. while jervis felt like he was caught seeing something private, barton wanted so badly for this throbbing inside of his head to stop. to the point where he thought about literally begging for matilda to just freaking sedate him.
and he hated taking anything that messed with his mind, so you know he must've been pretty damn desperate. god's... the whole area around the bed smelt rancid now due to the vomit, barton thought. he had had an idea in mind as to why he'd brought up jervis's synesthesia before. but it seemed to have fizzled away within his mind, leaving the reason ambiguous to even barton himself at that time. it occurred to the doctor then that jervis must've been feeling all of the visible sensations he was by looking at him — and so barton turned almost all the way around, as if to prevent that. ❝ that's what i said, yeah. ❞ a bit of irritation slipped into his tone but not due to him being annoyed by jervis. it was just simply a byproduct of the massive headache he had.
with a knee brought up to his chest, barton then placed his head down atop it out of exhaustion. reflecting upon jervis's words silently was all that he could do for a few beats. was the other wanting for him to blow up at him, or was he just being a bit of a sarcastic arsehole just because? because it certainly seemed more like the former to barton; the implication behind the phrase making that rage within him be stoked a bit almost like a fire. the doctor couldn't help himself now as he turned his head to look at that corner of the room with a cold gaze, before scoffing loudly. ❝ well, there's obviously something that my daughter deems likeable about you, or she would've killed your annoying — and sickeningly — self-righteous ass already. or maybe matilda hasn't because you just aren't worth the effort. i'm not sure, but the next time you act as if... ❞
barton tilted his head at the other and felt the need to hold both sides of his head to stop the pain he was feeling. he only took them off when a particularly bad feeling in his brain went away. then, he was exhaling deeply and groaning in frustration, ❝ crap. the point is, you two were getting along just then, so don't talk down to me for saying that. you got it? ❞ barton had seemed to have suddenly made a departure from his delirium and just sort of angrily flopped down on the bed. from there, he covered his eyes and that was when barton suddenly recalled why he'd said that bit about the synesthesia. it was because he thought it'd might be a bad idea to do so.
he knew that he was human enough to be horrified by the prospect that jervis hadn't told him with all the carnage he caused. but matilda was her own person, so who knows how she'd react to it? barton didn't even know why he cared. maybe he only cared out of some selfish reason like wanting a 'sparring partner,' after he'd been so long without one; someone who could match him both in vitriol and 'smarts.' though thinking about anything hurt so he let that fade away. all barton managed to say to that was this, ❝ good. i don't know, but unless it's absolutely necessary, i wouldn't. my daughter is my pride and joy but she's... ❞ that was when the audible chuckle came in, and barton had felt that god damn popped rib making breathing painful.
having a high fever had this uncanny ability to make you sometimes feel like you didn't even exist. barton didn't answer anymore of jervis's questions, hiking his legs up to his chest before hugging them halfway. jesus christ, this was almost as bad as that time he had pancreatitis. that was about the last lucid thought barton had before falling into a restless sleep. the hand on his shoulder hadn't been felt by him consciously, but his muscles had relaxed slightly at the touch, admittedly. matilda had actually headed to the edge of the kitchen-like area and was about to go back to where they both were, but stopped.
she had witnessed the way that jervis had tried to comfort her father. and a faint smile that couldn't be bitten back formed on her lips. yeah, jervis was a lot different from the both of them, it seemed. matilda waited for a moment before heading out and with a shirt of her father's changed into; which was from the room further back than the kitchen, ❝ so... i got a hold of someone. luckily they were in the area, because they said they could get here in about fifteen minutes. ❞
Jervis blinked, the scene before him shifting from the distant haze of his thoughts back to the present moment. Matilda’s abrupt departure left him sitting awkwardly meters from Barton’s bedside, feeling more like an intruder than a companion. Synesthesia. The word hung in the air between them, pulling Jervis back to the memories he usually kept buried deep. He hadn’t expected Barton to bring that up, not now, not like this. Or maybe he was just delirious, trying to make conversation in his feverish state. Either way, Jervis found himself unsure of how to respond at first.
The sight of Barton retching had sent an involuntary shudder through Jervis, a ripple of nausea echoing in his own gut. Watching Barton suffer was almost like suffering himself, the burn of the fever, the clench of the stomach, all too real in his mind. Still curled in the corner, Jervis shifted uncomfortably in his seat, feeling his own skin prickle with phantom sweat. "Buddies, is it?" He finally replied, his tone more sardonic than he intended. "You certainly have an interesting definition of that term." He paused, glancing briefly at Barton, who looked as though he was fighting to stay conscious. The joint in Jervis’ fingers winked and glowed as he idly flexed his wrist; feeling it crack slightly with the motion.
There was something oddly disarming about seeing the doctor like this—vulnerable, stripped of his usual sharpness and wit; a pitiable, almost childlike figure on the bed. It was almost unsettling, and Jervis couldn’t help but feel a begrudging pang of sympathy. The man was clearly suffering, and despite everything, there was a certain helplessness in Barton that struck a chord deep within Jervis. As for the synesthesia… Jervis wasn’t exactly keen on discussing it again, especially not with Barton, and certainly not now. He’d never seen it as something worth mentioning to Matilda. It was just part of who he was, a neurological idiosyncrasy that colored his world in ways others couldn’t understand. But it wasn’t something he talked about. Not unless he had to.
But Barton’s question hung in the air, demanding some kind of response. Jervis sighed, the sound heavy and resigned; reaching up with his free hand to remove his hat and finger-comb the snarls from his hair. His gaze flickered to the man’s flushed, sweating face, and then back to the kitchen, where a few drops of bile still clung to the fabric of Matilda’s ruined undershirt. "No, I haven’t told her. Not yet, anyway… And I don’t see why it matters, it’s not exactly… something that comes up in casual conversation, wouldn’t you agree? Besides, she’s got enough on her plate right now without worrying about my… quirks.”
Barton let out a low, almost inaudible chuckle, which quickly turned into a groan of pain. Jervis stiffened, unsure whether to reach out or keep his distance. He studied Barton’s face, looking for some sign of what the man was thinking, but Barton’s eyes were half-closed, his breathing labored. The sight unsettled Jervis, not just because of the man’s condition, but because of how it made him feel. Barton’s discomfort became his own, the nausea and fever echoing faintly within Jervis as his mind mimicked the sensations it observed. This was a situation he hadn’t signed up for, and yet here he was, tangled in the lives of people he barely understood.
The silence stretched out between them, broken only by Barton’s shallow breaths. Jervis let out another sigh, rubbing his temples in an attempt to ward off the growing headache that seemed to accompany any prolonged interaction with the other man. Why did it feel like that single word was threatening to unravel everything he had kept so carefully in place? There were more pressing matters to deal with. As he sat there, the room suddenly felt too small, too stifling. He needed air. He needed space to think.
But there was no escaping it—not yet, at least. For now, he would have to endure, to stay focused on the task at hand. And maybe, just maybe, he could keep the rest of it at bay for a little while longer. It was almost surreal, this entire situation, and Jervis wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or scream. Barton’s question about his synesthesia seemed absurd, a non sequitur in the midst of everything else that was going on.
"Why d’you ask, anyway?" Jervis finally said, his tone more curious than accusatory. "It’s not exactly common knowledge, and I doubt Matilda would care one way or the other." But Barton didn’t respond. He just lay there, eyes closed, his breath slowing as the fever seemed to pull him under again; muttering incoherently to himself. Jervis watched him for a moment longer before turning away, his thoughts a tangled mess of frustration and confusion.
Christ, what a mess this all is.
Whatever Barton’s intention had been, it was lost now, buried under the weight of his illness. And Jervis was left with more questions than answers, not least of which was why he was still here, caught up in the insanity of it all. He shook his head, muttering to himself, "Mad as a hatter, indeed." And yet, despite his irritation, despite his discomfort, Jervis found himself moving closer to the bed, as if drawn by some invisible force. He didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to offer comfort, but there was a strange, nagging sense of responsibility gnawing at the edges of his thoughts. For whatever reason, Jervis found himself reaching out, hesitantly placing a hand on the man’s shoulder. The gesture was awkward, unsure, but it was the only comfort he could think to offer in the moment.
Matilda’s parting words echoed in his mind: ‘He is as hot as an oven. I am calling someone.’
Jervis wasn’t sure who she intended to call, but the urgency in the words she mouthed had been unmistakable. The situation was serious, and whether he liked it or not, Jervis was now the one left in charge, however temporarily. Barton was right about one thing—they were, in some twisted way, in this together now.
#divingdownthehole#tw: illness.#tw: mentions of murder.#AHH yes i think you might've broight that up once before!! but i have to say it really is interesting to hear that#and i'm not going to lie barton snapping at him here might've been done out of an attempt to regain agency in a situation-#where he doesn't really have any control because the man is SICK and he's also in pain but i do feel bad for making barton-#yell at the man because jervis really has been through a LOT through the course of this rp haha.#but alright! cool cool. i just wanted to make sure mostly bc it could be a squick for some people but huh. that's interesting :0#i didn't know that though TBH... same except as a vet. but gotcha gotcha thank you for letting me know!!#i had listened to a song while writing this one for my rec for today is: call me by gigi masin (:
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fainted
warning: fluff + comfort — soft!sylus taking care of you after you fainted 💫🫶🏻 [ x mc,x reader ]
a/n: thank you for the lovely request, anon! are you feeling better now? i’m concerned :c pls take care of yourself, okay? <3
anon’s request / link: click here
- second acc: @blushpawss
“you know… i don’t think i’ve ever seen a night like this,” you said softly, looking up at the stars shining in the dark sky.
the air was cool and fresh, wrapping around you like a gentle breeze as you and sylus walked down the almost empty street. it was quiet, with only the distant sound of crickets and the occasional rustle of leaves.
you and sylus had discussed and planned this night out a few days ago, even though he lived far away in a place called onychinus. it was a big dangerous city far from linkon, where you lived. getting to linkon from onychinus took him hours, but he didn’t seem to mind.
never to him at all, when it comes to you.
“distance isn’t a problem,” he had told you over the phone, his voice calm and steady. “i’ll be there. all you have to do is say yes.”
of course, you had agreed. the thought of him driving all that way just to spend time with you made your heart race. you could almost hear him smile through the phone when you said yes.
“then it’s a plan,” he replied, as if the long drive was nothing.
now, as you strolled outside together under the night sky, you felt grateful. he had come all this way just to be with you. when he arrived, you felt a thrill seeing him step out of his sleek black car, his eyes finding yours as he walked toward you.
sylus looked at you from the side, his expression hard to read as always, but there was a slight smile at the corner of his mouth. “guess it’s not often you’re out this late,” he said, his voice low and smooth, with a bit of his usual confidence. even though he was usually serious, you had learned to see the small ways he showed his softer side—mostly when he was with you.
and you find that adorable, however.
“maybe not,” you replied, a lighthearted tone in your voice. “but i like it… it’s peaceful.”
you had been walking together for a while, enjoying the cool night air. he had suggested this place earlier—a quiet little park just outside the city, away from the bright lights and noise. with the moon low in the sky, shining soft silver light on the path, it felt like a different world, one where time slowed down, and it was just the two of you.
you felt a small warmth in your chest that grew stronger when you were with him. the way he walked a bit closer to you tonight, his hand sometimes brushing against yours, made your heart beat a little faster. there was something calm and charming about him that made you feel safe, even when you felt a strange dizziness you couldn’t shake off. you had been feeling a bit off since earlier, but the moment felt too perfect to ruin with your worries. maybe it was nothing—a little tiredness or a chill in the air.
maybe.
“are you sure you’re alright?” he asked suddenly, his eyes focused on you as he noticed you swaying a bit. sylus had a way of noticing things that others might miss, and his attention to detail was almost surprising.
“yeah… i’m good, really,” you assured him, managing a small smile. “just a little lightheaded.” you laughed softly, trying to brush it off, though you could feel his gaze linger, a crease forming on his brow.
he didn’t buy it; you could tell by how he slowed his steps and focused completely on you. “we don’t have to keep walking,” he said, stopping and looking down at you with a mix of concern and determination. “we can go back to the car if you need to rest for a bit.”
“no, no… i’m fine, really,” you insisted, trying to sound convincing, but even to yourself, it felt weak. you wanted to stay and enjoy just a few more moments of this rare peace with him.
but that’s when it happened.
you felt the world tilt, the stars above becoming blurry and slipping away. your knees felt weak, and your vision faded to a soft blur. before you realized it, the ground seemed to disappear beneath you.
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
when you opened your eyes, everything felt different. the cool night air was still there, but it felt warmer now, and you understood why—it was sylus. he was holding you in his arms, his strong grip supporting you. his expression was unusually soft, showing a rare vulnerability in his normally steady gaze. his voice was quiet, but it felt like a warm blanket around you.
“hey… you’re awake,” he said, relief laced in his tone. “just take it easy.”
you blinked, still feeling a bit confused, trying to understand what was happening. “what… what happened?” you asked softly, your voice shaking. it was a strange feeling to be so vulnerable, and the look in his eyes—something like worry—made it feel even more real.
“you fainted,” he said, his voice softer than you had ever heard. one of his hands was gently on your back, holding you close, while his other hand held yours, making you feel secure. “just breathe, okay? you’re safe.”
a wave of embarrassment washed over you as you realized what had happened. “i… i’m sorry,” you mumbled, feeling a flush rise to your cheeks. “i didn’t mean to scare you…”
“don’t apologize,” he said, his voice strong but soft with unexpected kindness. “it’s not your fault. if anything, i should have noticed sooner.” he changed his grip a little, gently brushing his thumb along your shoulder in a way that felt almost unreal.
you took a shaky breath, feeling a little more steady, but still shaken by everything that happened. fainting was something you had never experienced before, and how sudden it was made you feel vulnerable, like you were on unsteady ground. “it… it’s never happened before,” you whispered, looking up at him, trying to hide the fear still in your eyes. “i didn’t know what to do…”
his gaze softened even more, which was rare to see. “you don’t have to know what to do. that’s what i’m here for,” he said quietly, his fingers tracing gentle circles on your shoulder, his touch comforting. “it’s okay to lean on me, you know? you don’t always have to be so strong.”
his words wrapped around you, calming the panic in your chest. sylus was always a loving presence, and even in moments like this, his affection shone through. every gentle touch and soft word felt like a promise that he would always be there for you. he helped you sit up, keeping his arm around your shoulders to steady you, his grip strong and reassuring.
“still dizzy?” he asked, his voice soft but full of quiet concern that made your heart ache in a good way.
“just a little,” you admitted, feeling a bit more stable now but still grateful for the warmth of his arm around you. “thank you, sylus… really. i don’t know what i would have done without you.”
he let out a soft laugh, shaking his head a little. “you think i’d let you faint without doing something?” his lips turned up into a small smile, a hint of his usual bold confidence coming back. “besides, if it’s you who needs me, i don’t mind being a little less… myself.”
his words made your heart skip a beat, and their meaning settled over you. for someone like sylus, who was so confident and calm, it meant a lot to know he would let his guard down just for you. he wasn’t just saying it—he was showing it with every careful movement and every gentle touch.
after a while, he helped you get back up, guiding you carefully to a nearby bench under the trees, where the moonlight filtered softly through the leaves. you both sat there in comfortable silence, your small hand still held tightly in his large hands, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your skin.
“just promise me something,” he murmured, breaking the silence, his voice barely above a whisper.
“anything,” you replied, meeting his gaze.
“next time, don’t hide it. i’d rather know you’re not okay than find out like this,” he said, his eyes serious and filled with so much unspoken care.
you nodded, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “i promise.” then, you leaned your head against his shoulder, letting the quietness of the night surround you both. you knew that as long as he was beside you, you’d never have to face anything alone again. as you sat there, sylus kept his arm draped around your shoulders, steadying you with every gentle movement. he didn’t let go, as if to reassure you that he wasn’t going anywhere. a soft breeze rustled through the trees, bringing the scent of night-blooming flowers. even though the air felt cool against your skin, his presence kept you warm.
“let’s get you some water,” he said, his voice a smooth murmur, laced with concern. “i parked a little ways back. can you stand?”
you nodded slowly, still feeling a bit shaky, but his hand on your back gave you strength. he helped you rise from the bench, his touch careful yet firm. as you swayed slightly, he immediately moved closer, wrapping an arm around your waist. “easy now,” he said, his voice low but steady. “i’ll take you.”
with surprising ease, he lifted you off the ground, cradling you against him. the warmth of his body enveloped you, and you instinctively relaxed in his hold. it felt both comforting and safe, easing the fear that had been building in your chest. you caught the glances of a few passersby, but in that moment, all you could focus on was sylus.
“hold on tight,” he said with a hint of a smirk, though you could hear the seriousness beneath it. “i promise i won’t drop you.”
as he carried you toward his car, the world around you began to blur, the sounds of the night fading into the background. the soft crunch of gravel beneath his shoes was the only noise as he approached the sleek vehicle parked a few meters away. when you reached the car, he gently opened the passenger door and carefully placed you inside.
“there you go,” he said, his tone lightening as he made sure you were settled in comfortably. “now, just relax for a moment. i’ll be right back.”
you watched him as he closed the door and walked toward a nearby convenience store. he moved with a smoothness that always caught your attention, even in a rush. his broad shoulders were strong and made his waist look smaller. you could see his biceps flexing slightly as he walked, showing off the muscles under his fitted shirt. his abs were well-defined, tightening a little with each step he took.
when he turned to look back at you, the streetlights lit up his strong jaw and the light stubble on his face, making him look even more charming. you leaned back in the soft leather seat, still feeling a bit dizzy but thankful he was there. the cool air from the car’s air conditioning felt nice against your skin.
as he went into the store, you admired how he carried himself, a mix of confidence and grace. it was always nice to see him move like that, reminding you how strong and supportive he was, especially in moments like this. you felt warmth inside, not just from his presence but from how much he cared for you.
after a few moments, you took a deep breath, trying to shake off the lingering light-headedness. sylus returned quickly, a water bottle in one hand and a small bag in the other. he climbed back into the car, his expression a mix of relief and determination.
“i got you water and some snacks,” he said, handing you the bottle first. “you need to stay hydrated.”
you unscrewed the cap, taking a few small sips, the coolness refreshing against your dry throat. sylus watched you carefully, his gaze never leaving your face as if he was making sure you were okay. once you finished drinking, he handed you a small pack of crackers.
“here, eat these,” he urged, his voice low and steady. “it’ll help with your energy.” you took a cracker, nibbling at it while he kept his eyes on you, his presence calming you.
“thank you for coming back so quickly,” you said, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at his care.
“wouldn’t dream of leaving you alone after that,” he replied, his tone casual yet sincere. “not a chance.” he settled back in his seat, his body angled toward you, ready to offer support at a moment’s notice.
as you continued to nibble on the crackers, he leaned closer, his hand finding yours, fingers intertwining in a comforting grip. “you scared me, you know,” he admitted quietly. “when i saw you sway like that, it felt like the world stopped for a moment. i just... i couldn’t let anything happen to you.”
the weight of his words settled between you, his usual confident facade dropping just enough for you to see the worry behind it. you felt a swell of emotion in your chest, and you squeezed his hand tighter.
“i’m sorry,” you said softly, feeling guilty for causing him concern. “i thought i could handle it.”
“it doesn’t matter,” he replied, shaking his head slightly. “just promise me that if you ever feel off again, you’ll tell me right away. no hiding it.” his voice held a firm yet gentle tone, as though he was reminding you once more, giving you a silent promise that he would always be there to help.
“i promise,” you said, feeling reassured by his care. the way he was looking at you made you feel safe, like nothing could hurt you as long as he was by your side.
after a while, you started to feel more like yourself, the snack helping to ease the light-headedness. as you leaned back in your seat, you took a moment to appreciate the night sky outside the window, the stars twinkling brightly against the dark backdrop.
“do you want to stay here for a little while longer?” he asked, noticing your gaze. “i can turn the car on for a bit if it gets too warm.”
“i think i’d like that,” you replied, feeling a sense of calm wash over you.
he nodded and turned on the car, filling the interior with a soft hum. he shifted in his seat to face you fully, resting his arm casually against the back of the passenger seat. “tell me more about what you want to do when you feel better,” he said, a teasing glint in his eyes. “i’m all ears. and i’ll always be right by your side, even if it means facing any challenges.”
as his warm words wrapped around you, you realized that what happened earlier was behind you. in this moment, with sylus next to you and the stars shining bright above, everything felt right again.
#sylus#love and deepspace#sylus love and deepspace#love and deepspace sylus#lads sylus#lnds sylus#l&ds sylus#sylus x reader#sylus x y/n#sylus x you#sylus fic#sylus fluff#fluff#x reader#x y/n#x you#x reader fluff#x you fluff#x y/n fluff#love and deepspace fic#love and deepspace fluff#love and deepspace x reader#love and deepspace x you#lads#lads fluff#lnds#lnds fluff#l&ds#l&ds fluff#lads x reader
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oooh what about hotch's sister calling spencer to pick her up at the hospital after an accident or something because she doesn't want hotch to know since worry and go into protective big brother mode, but spencer tells him anyway and they both show up and lots of fluff ensues :)
adopted fem!reader, 1.5k
cw for panic attacks
You should call your brother.
You think about it, even pull up his contact, he’s the first person you go to when you need help and he always has been, but lately Aaron has been so stressed you hesitate, clicking the text button by mistake.
You read back his last message.
I can feel myself being spread too thin but there’s nothing I can do to fix it, he’d text. I guess I’m frustrated. But how are you, working girl? New jobs are scary. I bet you’re doing better than you think already. Jack and I are super proud of you
You’d sent him a meagre response. You aren’t always sure what to say to him. Sincerity is easier in person, but even then, he can be terse and deflective; he looks after you and no one looks after him.
You didn’t tell him about work, and you won’t tell him about now. You call Spencer instead. This is a good way to test the almost dating thing, right?
He doesn’t answer. When you call again, he answers on the first ring. “Hey, are you okay?”
“No. Are you busy?”
“I’m not busy if you’re not okay. Two seconds.” There’s a pause where you assume he’s moving from one place to another, perhaps closing a book around his hand, or closing the lid on an early lunch. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m, uh, in hospital. I had a huge panic attack at work and I… thought I was having a heart attack, so I–” You’re so embarrassed your voice turns to a thread. “Sorry, I know it’s so stupid.”
“It’s not stupid, that’s not stupid. How do you feel now?”
“Like someone hit me really hard in the chest.”
“Are you calmed down?”
“Mostly.” You wince. “They want to talk to me about medications. Uh.” You clear your throat. “I want to go home.”
“Angel… I’m on my way, okay? I’ll get Hotch and–”
“You can’t tell him.”
“What?”
“Please, Spencer, he gets so worried, he’s worried enough. And if he finds out I had a panic attack he’ll try and make me take time off of work and that’s just another thing on his plate he didn’t ask for–”
“Hey, hey, hey,” he says softly, “please don’t panic. You’ve had a hard morning, panicking again is really gonna hurt. Try and think about things that don’t wind you up, alright? Is there anything you need me to get?”
“You don’t have to come.”
“That’s why you called me, right? I’ll be there.”
You can’t know that he says goodbye and ducks straight back into Hotch’s office, where he’d been, to tell on you. It’s not to hurt you and it isn’t because you told him not to —it’s two parts concern, and one part self preservation. Aaron needs to know and you need him with you, and he also can’t imagine things going well for himself if he kept the news of your stay a secret. The shovel talk plays in his mind.
Aaron’s shovel talk being, You won’t do anything to hurt her, said simply, and with an impassive expression that bordered terrifying. Not overly unaffected, just casual.
You’re laying in your hospital bed with your hands clasped across your stomach when Spencer arrives. He frowns at you in your bed, worse when he sees your smudged makeup and the chafed inside of your wrist where you’ve picked and squeezed at your own skin. Your panic has left a physical mark, your chest aching as you force yourself to sit, and it hurts doubly so when your brother lets himself in behind your nearly-boyfriend.
You don’t have it in you to complain.
“I’m sorry,” Spencer says, reaching down to give you a quick hug as you sit. “I had to tell him.”
Aaron’s hug is similarly apologetic, though much longer. “You weren’t gonna tell me?” he asks quietly, his hand settling at the place between your shoulders. “How do you feel now?”
“I’m fine, I– I really thought I was having a heart attack.”
“That’s common,” Spencer says, “it’s the feeling of impending doom, thousands of people mistake anxiety for medical issues every week.”
Aaron holds you by the shoulders. “It’s okay,” he says. “Was it a doctor that checked you out, or a nurse?”
Aaron probes the name of your nurse from you and promises to be back soon. He seems to have gleaned that the quickest way to get information today won’t be from you.
Spencer goes in for another hug when he leaves, and then, to your delight, a very quick kiss pressed to your cheek. He ducks away after that and sits on the side of your hospital bed, his knuckles gracing the outside of your thigh. “Thank you for calling me,” he says, smiling at you, and better when you smile back.
“Thanks for coming.”
“Of course. I know how it feels, okay? If they want to talk about medication it’s a good thing, but everyone has moments like this.”
“I can’t believe you told Aaron,” you say, giving a weak but playful glare.
“I can’t believe you weren’t going to. He loves you, he wants to know what’s hurting you, no matter how much stuff is on his plate.”
You bite the inside of your lip, contemplative for a few slow seconds. “You think so?” you ask finally.
The hair flicked under his ears wobbles as he nods. “Absolutely.”
You lean forward to readjust his collar and tie. He’s wearing one of his cutesy waistcoats, dark grey over a light blue shirt. His tie has patterns you trace with your thumb, like fish scales. “Sorry, I know you were working,” you murmur.
“I think my boss will forgive me.”
You let your hands fall. Spencer, perhaps picking up on a hint you hadn’t meant to give, takes them both into one of his and squeezes reassuringly.
“It’s harder than I thought,” you confide softly.
“It’s an adjustment period. But maybe it’s not right for you, there. That’s what started it, right? Your job.”
“I’m not sure. I don’t know. I get panicky about all sorts of stuff, but I’ve never had one this bad before. I was a miserable kid, you can ask Aaron, but I really thought I was better.”
He rubs over your fingers with his thumb. “I think we all have stuff that messes us up. Doesn’t mean you’re not better. You don’t even really have to be better. And I… I am here for you, I promise. I know you have no reason to trust me with it yet, but I’ll listen whenever you need me to.”
You think about kissing him. Spencer kisses like he’s suffocating and your air, it’s cliche and undeniably true. Whenever you kiss him it’s like a shock —he steals your breath, he can’t stop himself from grabbing your face, and any other time you’d love it, but right now you just need a peck. You’re hoping he can do those kinds of kisses too.
“Will you kiss me?” you ask tentatively.
He gets the memo on gentleness. You shouldn’t be surprised, your very first kiss was tame, his hand running up your arm as he encourages you forward. Your eyes shutter closed at the feeling of his lips on yours, and the exhausting thrumming that’s lived beneath your skin since you woke up numbs to a more manageable ache.
Spencer breaks away. He cups your cheek quickly, dropping it immediately when the door opens.
You shuffle backward nonchalantly.
Aaron gives you a sarcastic look. Really? it says. I wasn't born yesterday.
“They want to give you a prescription for Paxil, honey, what do you think?” He turns his attention to Spencer reluctantly. “What’s her best option here?”
“Paxil could be fine. They didn’t suggest a benzodiazepine? Paxil is an SSRIs, it slows down the rate of serotonin reuptake, basically increasing the effectiveness of your bodies natural serotonin, which could decrease the risk of another attack, but taking it won’t stop her from feeling like this,” —he frowns at your location— “very quickly. Ideally she should have a medication for general anxiety and the option for quicker relief if this happens again.” He smiles at you suddenly, nearly shyly. “If that’s what you want, that is.”
“What are you thinking, honey?” Aaron asks you.
You have the two of them here to look after you while you decide. You take Spencer’s hand gently, desperate for reassurance. “I’m not sure.”
“It’s okay, we’ll work it out,” your brother promises.
Spencer squeezes your hand.
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction
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in the buff | jason todd
Summary: The one where you learn firsthand that Jason Todd sleeps in the nude.
Pairing: Jason Todd x gn!reader
Word count: 2.7k
Warnings/tags: best friend jason, awkwardness, nudity, reader hardcore thirsting over jaytodd, love confessions, humor (attempts at it, anyway), silliness. inspired by this post!
the divider
There's been a huge (blessed) development in the drug ring case that you and Jason are working on. You can hardly sleep now.
Normally, you'd call or text Jason, even though he's usually already in the know. It's possible that you just like having an excuse to call him, but who can confirm such a thing?
But it's late, probably too late to call, considering Jason doesn't answer his phone unless it's pinged directly to his helmet after a certain time, courtesy of his family being "a buncha jackasses" (his words, obviously).
But maybe it's not too late for a visit. After all, Jason patrols late, and has insane insomnia. He very well could be awake at this late hour. And he's never minded you dropping by before.
In truth, you haven't seen Jason in a few days and you feel restless now when you go longer than a day without seeing each other. You're not quite sure why that is.
So here you are, disabling the window alarm on Jason's apartment. Partly for a case, partly for your own benefit.
It takes a few minutes but you manage to open the window without anyone calling the police or whacking you with a broom. You slide open the window mostly soundlessly. Then you wait. The room remains dark and quiet.
You're pretty proud of yourself actually. It's not that you're green when it comes to spycraft, but you're certainly no Batman.
Still, you've managed to sneak into Jason's apartment without waking him. The Red Hood. You peek in to check if he's really asleep.
And he is, dark hair stark against the white pillow. It sticks out in messy tufts. You can't see past Jason's neck and his freckled arms, illuminated by the orange streetlight outside. You put your laptop bag on the floor.
He's sleeping on his stomach, facing away from you, but you're very endeared by how he's curled up under his sheet, hands tucked under his pillow. If you went really close to his face, you could count his eyelashes. Jason has such pretty eyelashes.
That's a perfectly normal thought to have about your best friend, right? Boys have pretty eyelashes. You're just making an observation.
You're bewildered by how cold the room is, surprised that Jason can withstand such a temperature. Maybe it's a Pit thing.
You watch him for a moment longer. Guilt pools in your gut. Are you really going to wake him when he's probably just gone to bed in the last hour? It takes Jason so long to fall asleep, you know that.
...
No, you should let him sleep. You can work on the case in the morning.
You bend down to get your laptop bag. In that time, the light flicks on.
You flinch, turn around, and find yourself staring down the barrel of a gun.
Said gun is held by an extremely naked Jason Todd.
"Oh my God!" you say at the same time Jason realizes his mistake.
"What the fuck!" he shouts, grabbing a pillow to cover himself.
But not before you get an eyeful of your best friend's, er, weaponry.
"Why are you naked?" you shout, gaze darting everywhere. Good Lord, it's seared into your retinas. You're never getting the image of Jason's dick out of your brain.
"Why are you in my apartment?" Jason snaps back.
"No, my question is way more urgent," you say.
"No the hell it's not! You broke in! I'm allowed to be naked in my apartment!"
"Okay. Alright. I came because there's been a development in our case. I thought we could work on it together but when I realized you were asleep for real, I decided to leave."
Jason rolls his eyes. "You know I'm a light sleeper. I just went to bed. I was up late.”
Realization strikes you. Could it be...?
"Oh my God. Do you have someone here?" you ask, voice sinking to a whisper.
"I have you here," Jason says irritably.
"No, like—" You make a hole with one hand and stick a finger into it. "Y'know..."
"Jesus, no!" Jason's face twists in disgust. "C'mon!"
"Okay, chill out, Jay-Jay. It'd be fine if you did. I can keep a secret," you say, shrugging. People have sex. You know that. You've never thought about Jason having sex, but you suppose it's possible. Why not? Just because you've never had sex and you always hoped that Jason would be your first doesn't mean that he would. If he's moved on in his life, then you should too.
Jason scoffs. "Yeah, okay. You think anybody would get into bed with a headcase like me?"
Hope rekindles. You're not behind. Jason's right there with you, virginity firmly intact.
He puts the safety back on the gun, squishing the pillow against himself with his elbow. You watch in fascination at his multitasking. Jason starts to turn around to put the gun behind the headboard before clearly thinking twice about mooning you.
"So... why are you naked?" you ask, respectfully keeping your eyes north of the equator.
"If you must know, I sleep in the nude. Now turn around."
You don't turn around. "In the nude?"
Jason's eye twitches. "Yes, nude. It's better for your body and it's more comfortable and I don't—"
You pull a face. "Who says in the nude? How old are you, a hundred?"
"That's what you're harping on?" Jason asks. "You broke into my apartment!"
You hold up a finger. "I didn't break in, I disarmed the alarm like you taught me."
"Yeah, which was only for emergencies. This isn't an emergency. Now turn around!"
So you turn around. You hear the pillow fall and the image returns. You recite the alphabet backwards. When that doesn't work, you think about the time you helped Jason on a mission in the sewers and couldn't get the smell out of your suit for a week.
Yeah, that'll do it. You shudder.
"Can't believe you just broke in," he mumbles. "Raised in a fuckin' barn, swear to God."
"Okay, I'm sorry. I'm truly, honestly sorry, Jaybee. From the bottom of my heart. Can I look now?"
"If you dare."
"Are you decent?" you ask.
"Too easy of a joke," he says. "Yeah, the jewels are covered."
You turn slowly. Jason's got red (ha) boxers on, so you turn all the way.
Huh. Well.
You've never really thought much about what Jason's got going on underneath his armor. Certainly, you've assumed that he's got a good physique and a lot of stamina, considering what he does. You've always assumed that. But Jason's Jason. Your best friend, Jason. Your best friend, Jason, who came back really tall, yeah, and with a deep voice and a super pretty face...
Well, anyway. He's Jason. That's all.
But now? Now you get to look in depth, and... whoa.
Jason's broad, stocky, heavily muscled with a soft layer of fat on top. His arms are huge, hands proportionally big. His pecs are full with pink nipples the same shade as his lips. That's a fact you're never forgetting. Your belly flutters.
Okay, what the fuck! No. This is peak creepy behavior, leering at your best friend like this, even if he does have shoulders you could sink your teeth into and thighs you'd happily get crushed between. No! Bad.
...You look some more. He's covered in scars. This is the first time you've seen his autopsy scar in person. It's white, noticeable but healed, like most of his scars. There's a dusting of dark hair from his chest to his belly button. It thickens as it dips beneath his—
Mm, nope. Not thinking about that again.
"Hello-o."
Your eyes dart back to his face.
"Are you listening to me?" he asks, forehead crinkled.
"What? Yes. Sorry. Yes." Your cheeks burn.
Something crosses Jason's face, too quick for you to read. But then his expression stones over. He glances at the dresser across from the bed.
"If you gimme a sec, I'll put a shirt on so y'won't have to look at all this," he says, gesturing roughly to his body.
You blink, lost in Jasonland. "Huh?"
"I know the scars are pretty gnarly. Lemme find a shirt."
Jason goes to the dresser and digs through the top drawer. His wide back is strung tight with tension, you can tell. You hurry to him, blocking the drawer with your arm. Jason looks at you, brows rising.
"Can I help you?" he asks.
"Um."
Words. You remember words, don't you?
"You..."
You haven't been physically close to Jason in a long time. He smells like soap and detergent and is all-encompassing. Your brain feels like slush. Don't stare at his pecs.
"I didn't—I'm not grossed out by your scars, Jason," you finally manage to say.
Jason raises an eyebrow. "Sure. You're just grossed out by everything else about me." He sighs wearily, like he's practiced this speech every night in the mirror. "Look, it's fine. I know I'm really—"
"No, it's not fine! I can't bear having you think I'm repulsed by your body, Jason. That's just not true," you say.
"Well, you were starin' pretty hard, so—"
"But it wasn't—I wasn't staring in disgust, I was—I..."
Jason crosses his arms. His pecs are pushed up as he does so. His stomach looks so soft. But you know he's strong. Way stronger than you. Strong enough to wield his strength against you, if you wanted him to. Strong enough to be gentle with you, too.
You wonder if he's still ticklish.
"You're doin' it again!" Jason says, and this time he really does look hurt. Fuck. Fuck! You're a shitty best friend.
"No!" You lock eyes with him. "No, no! I mean, yes, I was looking at you. But I wasn't looking in a bad, judgy way. I was, uh, taking in your physique. Because you have a... a very nice body. I've never seen you without clothes so I was looking at you. Sorry."
Yeah, you'll just go die in a hole after this.
Jason squints at you for a long moment. You start to shift in place. Sweat beads on your forehead. You lick your lips, hoping Jason can hear your honesty.
"Are you messin' with me?"
"Huh?" You shake your head. "No, why would I—"
"You're really telling me that you find this," Jason gestures to his body, "Good looking?"
This is worse than any physical torture. You'd prefer Batman beating you up on a roof to being here.
You rub your temple, cheeks aflame. "Oh my God. Yes, Jason, you're a good looking guy. Can we move on?"
"No, 'cause I think you're lyin', and I don't like it. You're always honest with me."
"I am being honest," you say, suddenly more annoyed than anything. Because what the fuck? "Are you kidding me? There's a whole forum dedicated to the Red Hood and how much people want you to step on them. And that's without seeing your face! I have eyes, Jason, of course I find you attractive."
And that should be the end of it. Jason's already slack-jawed like a dead fish. But no, you keep going.
"You make me nervous and I thought I had a lid on it because we knew each other as kids but it's becoming clear that I very much don't, and that probably has to do with the fact that you're the only guy I've been close to, and I never got over you. And now I'm gonna go drown myself in the Hudson. Good night."
You go to slip out the window. Maybe it'll shut on your head and knock you out. That would be a divine gift.
It doesn't, though. The universe isn't so kind. Instead, Jason catches your arm and keeps you rooted to your spot. His hand is cold. You wonder if the rest of him is warm.
"Wait, wait. Just hang on."
You groan. "Dude, I'm fucking mortified over the last five minutes. Please let me keep some of my dignity," you say without looking at him.
"Now when have I ever done that?" You can hear the smile in his voice.
And suddenly, the miserable reality of never being more than friends with Jason Todd comes crashing down. It's too late. You've always been too late.
You sag in his grip.
"We can just forget this ever happened," you say quietly. "Chalk it up to idiocy."
"Mm, yeah, we could. 'Cept I don't think you're an idiot. And I want you to hear what I have t'say first. Will ya look at me?"
Mopily, you look at him. His hand drops.
"I—"
"You've never slept naked," you say before he can get a word out. "That's new. Otherwise, I would've known, and then I would've used the door."
Jason rolls his eyes. "Can I speak?"
You cross your arms. "Yeah, okay."
"First of all, I don't think it's necessary for me to disclose that I sleep in the nude." You open your mouth to argue. "But I know it was a mistake. I'm not mad about that. Okay?"
You nod. "Okay."
"I won't lie and say I'm not surprised at your... reaction. I don't really... I've never... I'm not Dick or Bruce, y'know? I wasn't told my whole life what a handsome boy I am. And dying and returning didn't really help with that stuff either."
"I think you're handsome, Jason," you say quietly. "Honest."
He coughs and looks away, a tiny blush on his cheeks. "Yeah, uh, think you've made that pretty clear. For the record, I think you're really beautiful. Always thought so."
Your eyes widen. "Really?"
"Well, yeah. I mean... yeah."
"You're just saying that 'cause I saw your vein cane," you say, grinning.
"Don't call it that."
"How about—"
"No."
You're both quiet.
"How 'bout pork swor—"
"No!"
You smile, eyes squinty. Jason glares.
"Don't nickname my thing," he says.
You nod solemnly. "You're right. It's your thing. You should choose its name."
He shakes his head. "Sucha weirdo."
"Hey, I've never been with a guy. I don't know the rules of thing-naming."
Jason tilts his head. "Never?"
"Never."
"Why?"
You shrug. "Never found anyone I liked enough, I guess. I've pretty much had my heart set on you, Jason."
His face softens. "Oh."
"Yeah."
"Well, uh, me too," he says. "You're it for me, honey. I just never... I mean, really, I never thought it would actually happen with you. Not then, not now."
"Huh. You really should've flashed me earlier. We could've sped things up exponentially."
"Yeah, why didn't I think of that," Jason says dryly.
"Dunno! We all know you're more than a pretty face."
His face reddens. You grin.
"Are you shy?" you ask, dancing on your toes.
"No. Shut up."
"You're shy! I make Jason Todd shy! Oh, this is wonderful. I should break into your apartment regularly."
"It's just new for me!" he says. "Lea' me alone."
You cozy up to him, confidence renewed by the mutual confession. You wrap your arms around his neck. Jason looks at you, hands slowly coming to rest on your waist. The rest of him is warm.
"Just teasing you, Jaybee," you say.
"Hmm." He slowly nudges your cheek with his nose. "Like y'always do?"
"Like I always do," you say sweetly. "But for the record, if we ever share a bed in the future, you're gonna have to keep the soldier in his tent."
Jason lets go of you, exasperated. "Oh, for—y'know what? Your visitation privileges are revoked. Get outta my apartment."
You put on the saddest face you can muster. "You're kicking me out? Into the cold?"
"It's eighty degrees."
You sigh loudly. "Okay, fine. Date tomorrow?"
"Seriously?" Jason asks, sounding genuinely surprised.
"Seriously! Why wouldn't I be serious?"
"You really wanna date me?"
"Never been more sure of anything in my life."
Jason's relief is palpable and bittersweet. You'll spend the rest of your days letting him know just how spectacular he and his pectorals are.
"Okay," he says, shy again. You don't tease him this time.
"Great!" You close the distance between you and peck him on the cheek. His blinks in surprise.
"I'll give you a proper kiss on our date," you say, winking. "Bye, Jasey-Daisy."
"Bye, honey. Don't break into anyone else's apartment on your way home."
"Never," you say, climbing out the window. "You're the only one for me, Toddy!"
#jason todd x reader#jason todd x you#red hood x reader#red hood fanfiction#jason todd fanfiction#red hood x yn#jason todd x yn#batman fanfiction#dc fanfiction#jason todd imagine#red hood imagine#red hood fanfic#humor#fluff
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dean winchester x angel!reader — innocence is a virtue.
or, how on earth is he supposed to corrupt you? you? or, dean's newest passenger princess is killing him slowly and violently.
cw, fluff but with sexual elements. mostly fluffy though. reckless driving DO NOTTT do this!! professionals only!! dirty minded!dean. honestly just horny!dean really. innuendos galore.
word count : 2.9k
notes, guys can i be so honest i have not even gotten to the seasons where angels come into spn. this is all based on the lil bits n pieces i know of the future stuff ok. ik i'm a fraud but BE GENTLE IF IT'S OOC OR ANYTHING < /3
req. by anon & in honor of kas's dean & angel fics bc i LOVEEE them
★ ˚⋆
dean, honestly, had never met someone quite like you. when he'd told cas in passing that he was about the most naive, innocent thing he'd ever met, all he did was give him one of those looks he reserved only for dean. he thought, then, that it was just because he was being a bit of a shithead, and cas was telling him without telling him so.
very quickly, he found out how wrong he was about both of his assessments.
the day you came down to earth and graced everyone, literally, with your presence, dean was smitten. never before had he met someone so sweet. so honestly pure. until you, he thought that purity was nothing but an ideology based on impossible feats. a pipe dream and a half for the faithful. no, the reality was that he just hadn't met you yet.
sam was pouring himself into research, too focused to realize that dean was all but whittling away in his starvation, so when he offered to go grab some cheap shit from the diner a few minutes from the motel, all he got in response was a mumble of agreement and a wave of his hand from him.
but you, who'd been sitting on the motel bed, stiff as if you had something stuck up your ass holding you in place, turned to him and asked to come with. that struck dean off kilter immediately, because he hadn't been asked for anything in a long ass while. sam just usually assumed he'd be writing shotgun wherever they went. john — no, he'd never ask his son anything, usually buried that sentiment in harsh demands and orders. cas asked him lots of questions, but permission was not often one of them.
and when he looked at you, read over your features and saw the genuineness in your wide, expectant eyes... god, how could he say no?
so you sat there in the passenger seat. dean had to buckle you in with a joke that flew right over your head — another joke you would not get, even though he was fucking killing it with them right now — about not wanting to send you flying if they got into a wreck.
you proceeded to unbuckle and buckle and unbuckle again a few times, seemingly fascinated with the click of the mechanism. dean wanted to be annoyed. genuinely. if sam had started pulling this shit, dean would have pulled over and drove a few feet ahead as a warning to cut it the fuck out.
but with you, it was adorable in its own right. god, it was! somehow it surprised you, every time it clicked, even if you'd already done it eight times. like, how did anyone expect him to get pissy at you when you were doing those sharp, surprised gasps every few seconds? a few more times and he'd be pulling over to give you something to gasp at, he thought idly.
and then winced, scrunching up his face, when he realized how deep in the gutter his head was. no, he wouldn't touch you. wouldn't even try to plant that idea in your pretty little head.
dean didn't want to corrupt you. if there was one thing he was certain of, it was that he wanted to keep that pretty little head as clear as his nose was, alright? he wasn't going to be the one to break you into what this world was, its hardships and its cruelties — and its more deviant pleasures.
but fuck, you made it so hard to keep his head straight.
you did this thing, he realized too, on that silent, clicky drive, where you tugged your bottom lip between your teeth when you were in deep thought. thought about what, fuck if he knew, because if you said something to him in the moments that he watched you do it, he'd never know. he was watching your mouth but not to listen.
dean was about to start reprimanding himself in his head, for what must have been the third time already, when you said something, nearly making him slam on the brakes in his surprise.
"how are you doing this?" you asked, as if that wasn't the vaguest question he'd heard in his entire life.
dean blinked a couple of times as he waited for elaboration that never came. he switched hands on the steering wheel, resting his right loosely over the gearstick. "doing..." he trailed off, shaking his head slowly in a gesture to make you keep talking, "what, exactly?"
you did not catch the hint, and he was probably a fool for expecting you to. it took a few more seconds of you staring very intently at his thighs for you to speak up, and by then, he was fucking squirming in his leather seat, trying to not let it get to either of his heads that you were so blatantly staring at his dick.
"this," you answered, twinges of frustration evident in your tone. he couldn't blame you. he was getting frustrated in this car ride, too. "making it move."
christ. he was going to hell. he was going to hell again, this time because of his own drifting thoughts.
"you're gonna have to be a little more clear, dove," he managed through his teeth, voice strained, "'cause i don't think we are on the same train of thought right now."
another blink, and another few seconds pass. your hand shot up in his direction and he flinched, honestly flinched, convinced from the filthy thoughts circling in his head that you were about to grab him by the—
"this," you repeated, and he almost bristled at the attitude, almost told you off about virtues or whatever, when he finally got it. your arm stuck out in gesture to his legs, which pushed the gas pedal and rested against the doorframe, as he drove.
dean closed his eyes briefly, metaphorically swapping his metaphorical wrist for his headspace. he was not, was not, the person that should be introducing you to this world.
dean shifted again, bringing his left leg closer to the leather seat as he readjusted into more of a comfortable position. he hadn't even realized how tense he'd gotten on this short car ride until now. he was as straight backed as you were, and breathing just as slow. "driving?" he asked anyways, like an idiot.
"driving..." you repeated, like the word was as fascinating to you as the process was. "how?"
the diner sign was right there. it was teal and glowed, retro in style, announcing benny's bistro as open.
he drove past it.
dean knew that you did not sign up for a driver's ed course with him with your question, knew even more that he was risking his baby for a pathetic attempt at flirting with someone who did not even know the definition of the word, but to hell with it. you'd asked to come along with him, and therefore placed yourself in his hands for his guidance. the least he could do was make some sort of effort, couldn't he?
"c'mere," he grumbled once he'd pulled baby off into an unassuming back road, parking it dead in the center. you'd need all the open space. he patted his spread thighs a couple of times.
your stupidly pretty pink lips sucked into your stupidly straight teeth. fuck. "why?"
"just—" he cut himself off when he realized he was about to get snippy. you didn't deserve snippy. he was just hungry and horny and you were pretty and he was...
he was pathetic. looking for reasons to get you into his lap. he'd already been to hell, what are they gonna do, drag him back by his ear?
"just do it," dean finished on a sigh, his hand dropping to the front of his leather seat, grabbing the handle and shoving the seat back as far as it could go. there you were, staring at his dick again, making him feel hotter and more bothered.
he felt his heart stop solidly in his chest when you started to climb over the middle console, so oblivious to the faceful of ass he was getting. dean was practically praying to god at that point. he knew he'd been a shit until then, and definitely a sinner by every means, but if he could grant him a little fucking strength—
you plopped your happy little ass right between his muscular, jean-clad thighs. you were warm, was his first thought. he was screwed, was his second.
"what now?" you asked him, that innocent lilt to your voice as you did, and he felt like a dirty little freak for wanting to bend you over the steering wheel moments before ( who was he kidding? for still wanting to bend you over the steering wheel ).
dean took both of your hands and placed them on the steering wheel. once he'd closed your fingers around the wheel, he dropped his hands to your thighs.
"this one," he patted the left one, and nearly went molten behind you, when you lifted that thigh and placed it on his palm. "nuh uh," he tried to lightly correct, "this one you don't use. jus' keep it out of the way." dean's voice was strained in his ears, in his throat.
you slipped your thigh out of his grasp, pressing it up against the inner of his own thigh, your foot tucked around his ankle. you were so trusting and compliant. he was so, so screwed, and so, so awful for thinking about breaking that sweet naivety.
"this one," he said, patting your right thigh, and when you didn't move it this time, he smiled, just a little, to himself. "you use to make it move."
the flush on your cheeks that followed his tease was so damn pretty it took his breath away.
he lifted his leg, not able to reach the pedals with you sat between them and his seat all the way back. he pointed his boot at the left pedal, knowing you were watching each of his movements intently. "that's the stop pedal. push it down to stop." he repeated the process he'd done with your legs, boot pointing at the right pedal as he explained it. "that's the ignition."
pause.
"that's the go," he corrected, sparing you any momentary confusion and any more questions, he hoped. dean could not keep sitting here idle with you between his legs. "makes the car drive. harder you push, faster it goes."
hell, hell, hell. he wasn't going to hell, because he was already in it, strung up and burning.
"i'll handle the gears," he added quickly, when he caught your head turning downward to the shift stick. "don't wanna overwhelm that pretty little head of yours, dove, with too much at once."
dean rested his right hand on the gear stick, his left hand gripping the handle on the driver's door for dear life. he needed the support; you were driving him up a wall with his claws out, and you were about to be driving him. driving his baby. it took a lot of coaxing from sam for dean to let sam behind the wheel. all you did was ask how do you make it move? and he was letting you drive.
you. who did not even know what a car was. who was learning how to drive literally that moment.
god help him. he'd prayed more in this fifteen minute drive than he had in years.
you pressed down on the gas pedal, and the car revved all pretty and loud. dean watched with bated breath as the response to your efforts registered in your head, the way your eyes lit up in that curious glimmer, the fucking teeth biting on your lip.
once you let up, he pushed on the gear stick's release, and tugged it down from park to drive. the car slowly began to move down the dirt path.
you slammed the brakes so hard that his head knocked into the back of your shoulders. "fuck, dove, gentle."
and you were, when you shifted your foot over to the gas pedal again. you pushed it down on it tentatively, the car starting to glide down the dirt road, the sound of pebbles grinding beneath the tires.
"better," he mumbled in your ear, leant forward to keep his eyes on the windshield. it's not that he didn't trust you, he just... yeah, he didn't trust you. "just like that, dove."
the praise, though, goes in one ear and out the other, because the gentle ease of baby's tires along the road is interrupted by you slamming the gas. the tires squeal. clouds of dirt and dust puff out from behind the car as it takes off.
dean's heart went from in his ass to in his throat in a manner of a second. "whoa, whoa, whoa!" he exclaimed, a nervous laughter bubbling out of his throat. "slower, slower, will ya? crashin' in the middle of nowhere is the last—"
you hit the brakes again, still hard but less this time. just enough to send his head knocking into your shoulder again as the car slowed.
slowed, but still headed toward the ditch. "right, see your hands?" he asked, chin nuzzling into the plush spot between your neck and your shoulder so he could see better. "twist 'em. nice n' gentle for me, to your left, yeah, good girl. makes the whole car move, yeah? jus' keep it on the dirt, not off "
you follow his instructions, and dean feels a swell of pride at this. maybe he should have gone into driver's ed or some shit. he was a good ass teacher.
"like this?" you asked, drawing him out of his self glazing. your voice, soft and hesitant, breathless with your excitement, has his chest heaving.
"yeah, dove, jus' like that," he rasped, his left hand moving from the doorframe to rest where your thigh met your hips. the car kept its slow pace down the long dirt road, and for the first time since you'd gotten your hands on the wheel, his heart doesn't feel like it's pounding in his throat. "no, no, don't stop. keep goin', you're doing so good for me."
his phone starts to buzz in his pocket, and like that, his self indulgent driver's ed lesson comes to a screeching halt. "you jus' keep on going like this, alright?" he asked you, patting your hip with his hand before he reluctantly let go.
he definitely answered the phone with more attitude than necessary. couldn't help it. he was having a great time. "what, sam?"
"everything alright?" sam asked, and then dean felt like a prickhead for giving him shit at all. "s'been thirty minutes."
dean sighed, his eyes lifting again to look out the front windshield. a stop sign was quickly approaching, and you didn't even need his guidance for that. you were slowing to a stop all on your own. he was so fucking proud, it was sick. "all good. long line at the burger place."
it was dead empty, four miles back.
"we'll be back in a few, alright? chew on one of your books or somethin' while you wait, make 'em useful."
"dean—"
he hung up before he could hear sam's sighed response.
his hand fell to your waist again, squeezing lightly to stop you from lifting your foot off of the brake just yet. "play time's over. calvary's callin' us back."
dean pushed the gear stick into park again before he moved both of his hands to your hips, helping guide you back into the passenger seat.
he adjusted the seat again, his hands finding their typical place on the wheel. he did a very illegal u-turn at the four-way intersection and headed back down the road that you'd driven him down.
"have fun?" he asked after a beat, eyes flicking over to see you. you looked so pretty in the orange glow of the sunset, your face lit up in deep gold.
you turned to meet his eyes, and he had to look away quickly, the bright glimmer of adrenaline in them knocking all the wind out of him. "yes."
"good." dean meant it. there were so few things he'd risk everything for, but that toothy smile of yours jumped to the top of that list.
"dean?" your voice rung out again, earning him another glance your way in acknowledgement. "what part of the car was in my back the whole time?"
dean faltered, eyes blinking in a bout of surprise and lips parting, searching for a response he did not have. his eyes dropped down to his lap for a second, dread and embarrassment pooling like ice water in his stomach at what he hoped wasn't— yeah. yeah, it was.
"i dunno, dove," he mumbled through his teeth, staring straight ahead, fingers tapping on the steering wheel, doing basically anything to not meet that curious look of yours. especially knowing you'd have your lip in your teeth all over again. "might have t'take it to the shop, while we're in town... get it checked out or somethin'..."
he was so damn screwed.
tags, @figthoughts @jasvtsc @titsout4nicholas @deanswidow @deansbite
#──★ dahlia's jrnl#──★ dean x saga#dean winchester x angel!reader#jensen ackles#dean winchester#angel!reader#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x you#dean winchester one shot#spn#supernatural#supernatural one shot#spn one shot
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This episode really highlighted how close Marcille, Laios, and Chilchuck actually are.
The viewer is used to seeing our main characters behave like coworkers up to this point—even friends—and they express normal, understandable levels of concern and fear when their other party members are in danger. But when the nightmare attacked Marcille, it brought out sides of Laios and Chilchuck that the viewer hadn’t seen before.
Laios immediately notices when something is wrong with Marcille, and he tells the others as soon as he’s sure of the problem. Chilchuck and Senshi then follow Laios’ lead as it becomes clear that he intends to make her get some rest.
We see Chilchuck’s hands lay out the bedroll and Senshi’s hands set up the pillow, working in almost perfect tandem as Laios physically wrangles Marcille into bed.
Senshi is in a similar perspective as the viewer, and mostly sits and watches the ordeal unfold. He doesn’t have a shared history, like these three do, so he helps in little ways, but mostly waits on standby for direction.
From here on out, it’s mostly Laios and Chilchuck who take over in planning how to help her.
It’s uncommon for Chilchuck to openly show such distress and worry for one of his party members. He’s used to Marcille being able to defend herself; he’s used to her being capable and strong. He immediately defers to Laios for instruction, (rightly) assuming he will know what to do.
This actually produces a reaction close to real fear from Chilchuck, who outright SMACKS her in a panic to wake her up before getting any further information.
Laios has to quickly stop him, explaining that he could truly hurt her if he interrupts the attack this way. He tells them how he’s going to wake her, and he doesn’t hesitate. He jumps straight in, explaining what he’s doing for the others so that they (Chilchuck) won’t be afraid.
Chilchuck doesn’t question him once. He just does what he can to hurry along the process. He tucks Laios in with his blanket as soon as he lays onto Marcille—an unnecessary action that betrays how much he cares for both of them.
And Laios succeeds in helping Marcille out of the nightmare’s grasp. While trapped in her mind, he reassures her, protects her, tells her how much she’s valued and appreciated. He isn’t embarrassed or sheepish about it, either; he openly declares these things like it’s the most normal and obvious thing in the world.
He gets her out, he saves her. He did the exact thing he set out to do, even though he’d never done it before, and only had Falin’s secondhand information to work with.
Once he wakes, Chilchuck immediately checks on him to see if he’s alright. Chilchuck is clearly still rattled, displeased with having to wait while both of his close friends were unconscious, fighting a battle neither he nor Senshi could see or help with.
Marcille wakes up shortly after Laios, but Chilchuck is still on edge, worrying that she’ll fall back asleep. Laios, too, has a moment of alarm when he makes sure she won’t close her eyes again.
Once he takes the subdued nightmares out of Marcille’s pillow, only then do Laios and Chilchuck relax.
Laios, for his part, remained calm and collected almost the entire time. He did not show panic or fear when it became clear that Marcille was being attacked, nor when he told the rest of the party what he’d be doing to help her. And once the nightmares had been collected from her bedroll, he gently explained what happened, to everyone else’s horror.
Seeing this, it’s not a huge surprise that the Touden party is so successful. We’ve seen Laios handle danger with a level head; we know he’s capable.
But it’s an entirely different kind of talent to face a threat that’s targeting one of your closest friends—which can make even the most competent fighter sloppy out of fear of losing them—one that requires a high-risk, specific rescue style that none of you have ever tried before. And then pull it off flawlessly. Like damn, these guys are lucky to have him.
#i will never be normal about the interpersonal relationships of the touden party#dungeon meshi#delicious in dungeon#marcille donato#laios touden#chilchuck tims#senshi#izutsumi#senshi of izganda#dungeon meshi spoilers#dunmeshi#dunmesh spoilers#dungeon meshi analysis#dungeon meshi meta#chilchuck dungeon meshi#laios dungeon meshi#marcille dungeon meshi#you know i’m not above viewing this in a shippy light. but i love both platonic & romantic iterations so i’m happy either way#laimar#marchil#marchilaios#laimarchil#i’m just guessing on ship names at this point lmao
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Some guy gets arrested
Inspired by @medium-sized-ghost addition to the Original Post.
Masterpost
“So sorry about this, Mr. Wayne.”
“No, I understand. I’m just glad to see the law doing their job so well.” Bruce continues pleasantly through the police station with Commissioner Gordon leading the way.
“We’ll get this sorted out as soon as possible, but in the meantime you will need to unfortunately be placed in holding.”
“Of course. It’s really no problem, it was my mistake missing my court date like that. Time just gets away from me sometimes, you know?” Nevermind the fact that Bruce hadn’t even known about said court date or the speeding ticket it was for. He couldn’t prove which child had taken his car for a joy ride, but his prime suspects were Jason or Dick. (He would later find out that it was Stephanie upon a dare from Duke. He already attempted to banned them from playing Truth or Dare after Tim convinced Dick to do a handstand on Jason’s bike going 95 down the freeway. Not that Dick really needed any convincing.)
“Well you’re in luck, one cell is mostly empty.” It was a small cell closer to the front. Bruce could see a teenager laying on the bench to the right. Gordon opened the door and stood to the side so Bruce could enter and locked the door behind him. “Would you like anything to drink? Water? Coffee?”
Bruce smiled, “No, thank you.” Gordon nodded and looked past Bruce at the only other occupant in the cell, “What about you kid? Anything?”
Bruce watched as the kid, one he unfortunately recognized, lifted his arm from where it was thrown over his eyes and waved it in the air at the commissioner, “I’m good.” The arm went back down. Gordon grunted, “alright Officer Mitchell is keeping watch, call out if either of you need anything.”
With that Bruce was left alone with the boy who had befuddled and befriended his many children. He sat on the opposite bench and thought about how best to approach the young man. Danny had never responded well to Batman and there was no telling how he would respond to Bruce. According to Tim, Danny actually had some respect for Bruce and the money he dumped into bettering Gotham. (When it was announced that the public library was being renovated Danny had interrogated Tim about it and then offered his own opinions on how to involve more of the general population.)
Bruce didn’t think the time called for his “Brucie” persona and he couldn’t be Batman at the moment. He could approach the boy in a “fatherly” manner but that approach rarely worked on his own kids, he didn’t think it would work on this one.
“Have you called anyone?”
Danny looked out from under his arm and stared at Bruce suspiciously. In hindsight it was a creepy question.
Bruce brought his hands up and breathed a laugh, “I’m sorry, I meant have you been given your one phone call?” Danny didn’t move. “Why? You a lawyer?” He eyed Bruce in his nice suit and watch.
Bruce smiled at the boy, “goodness no, I don’t have the attention span for law school. I actually did pre-med before dropping out.”
Danny seemed too curl a little more into himself. It was the most cautious Bruce had ever seen him. He was locked in a Gotham police cell with a man in an expensive suit who seemed completely unconcerned about being arrested, it was wise on Danny’s part to be wary.
Bruce stuck out his hand, “Bruce Wayne.” Slowly, Danny sat up and crossed his arm scoffing, “why would Bruce Wayne be in a holding cell?” Bruce continued to smile at the kid and shrugged, his hand still in the air, “speeding ticket I’m afraid, missed my court date. I do have to say, though, the updated traffic cameras are a good investment by the police department.” “Wayne Enterprises payed for them.” “We did?” Bruce asked, knowing full well it was to give Oracle better camera footage. “You were at the press release.” “Huh.” Bruce looked thoughtful for a minute, “mm no, not ringing any bells. I go to so many of those press conferences, they just bleed together after a while.” “Mhm.” Danny still didn’t take the offered hand. Bruce sighed and let it drop back to his lap, “I’d offer to show you my ID but I don’t exactly have it on me.”
They sat and watched each other for a minute. Danny shifted and seemed to make a decision, “I work at a coffee shop and one of your sons is a regular.” Bruce slapped his thigh as if a light bulb suddenly went off, “You’re Danny! Tim’s mentioned you! You know he’s the only one with a weakness for caffeine, the others like to tease him but I don’t think he has an addiction. However, he does seem to spend a lot of time at that shop.” Bruce leaned forward as if confiding a secret, “to be honest, I think he has a bit of a crush on you.”
Dropping his own arms, Danny sighed. “Yeah, he’s not really that subtle.”
“No, I’m afraid he’s never been good at that. At least not when he’s interested in someone.” Tim was great at subtlety when it came to the mission but never in his personal life. The funny part was he didn’t even draw that distinction on purpose.
“I called a family friend. To answer your question. He should be here soon.” Bruce nodded, “so you do have people you can rely on in town?” “I could have a whole family I can rely on in this city.” Danny said, catching the older man's slip. He shifts further in his seat and stared hard at Bruce.
Bruce knew Danny had no one in town. He did the background check, Danny's whole family lived in Ohio with the exception of his older sister who was in one of the top psychology programs in the country. They seemed to visit each other often but rarely their parents.
The older man dawned an apologetic expression. “I’m sorry, I assumed when you said ‘a family friend’.” Bruce leaned back against the wall behind him, “are you from Gotham?”
“No,” Danny shifted further back in his seat and didn’t take his eyes off Bruce.
It was different from how the boy interacted with Batman. To the billionaires alter ego Danny was defiant and outspoken. He always seemed to say what was on his mind, completely uncaring of the audience he had.
——-
“Mr. Fenton, your god-father is here for you.”
Danny never thought he’d feel this relieved to know Vlad was picking him up. While Mr. Wayne had been nothing but polite, something about the man felt off. Danny also didn’t appreciate the questions. What was it to this man if Danny had family near by or not?
One of the cops opens the door with Vlad in his nice suit and overly polished shoes right behind him.
“Daniel, let’s not make this a habit.”
“I was just feeding the homeless dogs!”
“Strays.” Vlad corrected, “while trespassing?”
Danny rolled his eyes and continued pass his “uncle”.
“How am I supposed to know an abandoned building is considered ‘private property’?”
Vlad just sighed.
——
Bonus:
Stephanie would continue to stick to her story, thank you very much. She had every right to punch the creep and she wasn’t backing down. Not even if “the creep” was apparently the son of a very influential prosecutor. A corrupt one, but he was influential nonetheless. Such is the justice system in Gotham.
Even if it landed her in a police station, handcuffed to a desk while said creep cried about the bloody nose she gave him.
Letting out a frustrated sigh, she crossed her legs and continued to glare at the door way that led to the holding cells. It was her night off and she still had to deal with this godforsaken city’s degenerate citizens. God forbid she have a day off.
It was while glaring at said door that Steph noticed a familiar boy walking out with a gentleman she wasn’t familiar with. He was a little behind Danny but reached out and grabbed his shoulder, stopping him just before leaving the hallway. Steph slid her gaze away but kept her ears open, grateful she was close enough to hear.
“You need to be more careful, Daniel.”
Danny didn’t respond and Steph looked over to see him pull his shoulder away and start walking again.
“You didn’t have to come all this way to bail me out. I could have called Jazz or Sam.”
“Nonsense, it’s good to get out of Wisconsin.”
Steph wrinkled her nose, Wisconsin? The pair continued out of ear shot and shortly out of the station.
When Bruce was released a few minutes later, Stephanie smiled and took great joy in his obvious (to any member of his family) despair and exasperation at seeing her.
Part 8
#I ment to make this more funny but my brain took it somewhere else#I don’t know if I like it.#danny is just some guy#batfam#batfamily#danny phantom#dpxdc#dc x dp crossover#dp dc crossover#dcxdp#dc x dp#dp x dc
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part two for this (https://www.tumblr.com/paarksunghoon/764887604741210112/heeseung-with-a-corruption-kink-and-maybe-size?source=share) please…Heeseung corrupting her into fucking 🤤
part 2 to this drabble
warnings: subtle (?) manipulation but not really because she wants it, she’s just shy
***
Heeseung’s got you on your back with the pillows situated underneath your head for support while he leans down to kiss your lips once before pulling back. He’s bare from the waist down and all you’re wearing is sheer tank top. His breath touches your lips. Paired with the way his dick is sliding between your folds, it almost makes you feel like you’re losing your mind.
“Let me stick it in,” he whispers, pushing his lips to kiss your neck softly. His feather-like touches make you shiver.
You don’t say anything yet. The boy on top of you keeps his ear close to your mouth and your soft whimpers make him hornier by the second. You hear the wet splashes and how it sounds as he glides right against your wet pussy, and it almost convinced you to give in.
“It’ll feel so good,” he says against your neck. “Are you scared, baby?”
“A little…”
Heeseung brings his head up and pushes your bottom lip with his thumb as his dick catches your clit. “Are you a virgin?”
You shake your head. “It’s just…it’s been a while.” Heeseung grunts from above you. His warm cock feels alright against you. You’d probably be really tight, tighter than the girls he sleeps with.
“I’ll make it feel like the first time.” He grinds even slower, letting his dick make its way up to nudge your clit at its own pace. “I’ll make you come as many times as you want, I swear.”
You bite your lip and look up at the ceiling. “You already do.”
“Mm, yeah I do. But I’ll make you come with my dick inside of you. Don’t you want to feel good too?”
“I don’t know…”
“I love grinding, don’t get me wrong, but…” Heeseung lifts his hips just high enough to rest the tip of his dick against your hole. “Grinding only does so much, ya know? Fucking though…your pussy’s gonna love it.” He pushes the head inside and loves the way you gasp and clench his biceps.
Ever since that might a few weeks ago, Heeseung hasn’t been able to get you anywhere farther than grinding, sometimes with or without clothes. He has his share of girls to hookup with when he needs hard and fast sex, but he can’t deny that the slow pace you set keeps him on his toes. He loves that lovey dovey shit in between his rough hookups but he won’t admit that to you. You’re a pallet cleanser for him.
He thinks he might be addicted to the change in pace when he’s with you because you don’t really expect him to be anything or anyone when you’re both together. You let yourself be pleasured in a way other girls don’t. Heeseung enjoys the high intensity he gets with other people but, mostly, he likes that he doesn’t have to think too hard when he’s with you. It’s probably why he keeps coming back even though you haven’t let him fuck you yet. So far, you’re the only person who can get him to stop what he’s doing or leave whoever he’s with for the chance to actually hook up.
“See?” Heeseung says when you clench around his tip. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah…” His tongue licks against yours and captures another moan from you when he starts to thrust only his cock head into you.
“You’d love the way I fuck.” Something about your silence and compliance underneath him makes him crazy. Heeseung seems to let go of his demanding person when he’s got you in his bed and finds himself talking you through it.
“Oh yeah?”
Heeseung smirks against you. Hook, line, and sinker. “Yeah. I know you want that kind of sex, baby. I feel it every time you sit on my lap and get yourself off.” You feel him push another inch in when he speeds up his hips. “I’ll make you come as many times as you want. I promise.”
“Do you…do this? With other girls?”
Heeseung raises an eyebrow. “Do what? Fuck?”
You look always. “N-No…do you make them cream?” He pushes even more of himself inside you just thinking about it.
“All the time,” he moans. “Love it when my girls get all wet like that. It’ll be hot when you do it too.” You clench again. “Ohhh. That felt good. Do you like it when I talk about how I fuck?”
You suck even more of him inside of you. He grins wickedly. “You’re so dirty, aren’t you? My shy little thing, have you been hiding?” Heeseung laughs. “I prep them all nice so they’re sopping wet. Some like it when I fuck them dry at first. Others like it when I show no mercy and make them all creamy.
“Everyone loves it when I come inside, though. They always tell me it feels so good. It’s good for me, too. Love watching it drip out of their pussies.”
Your legs wrap around his body as his hand comes to grip one of yours. Heeseung pushes the rest of himself all the way in and drinks in the way you moan into his mouth. His pelvis touches yours and he grunts right into you.
“I like the slow sex with you, though,” he says honestly. There’s a lot of truth behind it, even if he can’t figure out why. “I don’t do the whole kissing thing, you know. Just with you.”
You snort. “Sure.”
“It’s true.” He bends down to kiss you and mumbles against your lips. “I’ve wanted your pussy around me more than anything.”
You barely speak above a whisper. “I want you.”
“Yeah?” Heeseung picks up the pace and feels your chest bounce against him. “Want my dick?” He moves like he’s on autopilot when you nod, keeping the slower pace until you give him a signal to go faster. “We’ll get you up there soon.”
“To where?”
He chuckles. “Rough sex, sweetheart. I know you want it. You clench every time I talk about it.”
“Mm, yeah…”
“Don’t worry, baby.” He kisses your lips again. “It’ll take some time but that’s okay, right? I’ll have you get used to me until you’re ready. We can practice until you get there.”
“We can?”
His cock slides in and out of you like some kind of physical prayer. “As much as you want, sweetheart. All day and all night. Whenever you want.”
You don’t say anything. He feels your arms encircling his shoulders and that tells him everything he needs to know. Speeding up his hips, Heeseung fucks you well into the night and you lose count of how many times he makes you come.
Despite himself, he stays the night.
***
#enhypen smut#enha smut#heeseung smut#lee heeseung smut#heeseung x reader#enhypen x reader#lee heeseung x reader#enhypen hard thoughts#enha hard hours#enha hard thoughts#enhypen hard hours#heeseung#hard thought*#my writing*
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(Something soft and sweet for john to make up for the pain yesterday’s simon drabble caused lol)
You are a single mom taking your child out for her first halloween. It’s been a rough couple of… years, honestly, and leaving your horrible ex behind wasn’t easy and taking care of a child all alone was one of the hardest thing you’ve ever done but you did it and by god, you will make this a wonderful first halloween for her.
Except, the halloween spirit of your neighborhood is practically dead. Most don’t even open their doors, others have no candy put out and no lights on.
This will be the last house, you tell yourself, sad and dejected but doing your best to remain optimistic for your kid. This house is right beside yours, but from what you’ve heard the man who lives in it works in the military and is rarely home but tonight, he even has some… gnomes put out? Ugly ones; why are they in military outfits, one has a mohawk, another a skull mask, and the other with a cap?
None of my business, you decide. You just hope he’ll have something to give to your kid once you knock on the door and wait, swinging your child’s hand to get some happy giggles from her.
When the door opens and you meet the most handsome bear of a man you’ve ever seen, eyes crinkling when he smiles at your kid and calls her a tiny, adorable cub and holds out a bowl of candy for her to take, you take a moment to thank the halloween god for this miracle.
Before reality crashes back in as your child eagerly dives into the bowl, picking her favorite treat. The man glances up at you, his smile softening but not fading.
“Happy Halloween,” he says warmly, his voice deep and calm, sending a pleasant shiver up your spine. There’s something disarmingly kind about him, something steady, and it catches you off guard.
“Thank you,” you manage, feeling oddly bashful under his gaze. “You really saved the night. Not many houses are…participating this year.” You gesture vaguely down the empty street, hoping you don’t sound as defeated as you feel.
His brow furrows slightly as he looks out into the neighborhood, then back to you and your child, who is now carefully showing him her candy haul with a proud grin. “That’s a shame,” he murmurs, crouching down to their level. “Halloween’s meant to be special for little ones, isn’t it? I’m John Price, by the way. Apologies for not introducing myself earlier.”
Your heart tugs as you watch him interact with your child, his big hands surprisingly gentle as he adjusts her slightly crooked bear hat, smoothing the adorable little ears. “You’re quite the brave trick-or-treater, aren’t you?” he teases, and your daughter beams, nodding enthusiastically.
You laugh quietly, the tension of the evening starting to melt away. “It’s her first Halloween,” you explain. “I was hoping it’d be a bit more… lively.”
John stands back up, thoughtful. “First halloween, eh? Can’t have it ending like this.” He steps back into his house briefly, calling over his shoulder. “Wait here a tick.”
When he returns, he’s holding a small pumpkin-shaped lantern, a box of sparklers, and what looks like a half-eaten bag of mini chocolates. “Tell you what,” he says, crouching again to your child’s level though he’s speaking mostly to you. “Why don’t we make this Halloween a bit more fun? Got some sparklers here, if your mum’s alright with it.”
You blink, stunned by the unexpected kindness, but your child is already bouncing on her toes, looking up at you with wide, hopeful eyes.
“I… I think that’d be wonderful,” you say softly, feeling an unfamiliar warmth bloom in your chest. Freely given kindess has become almost unfamiliar to you. “If- if we are not bothering you, of course.”
And so, in the quiet and under a sky full of stars, you watch as John lights sparklers for your child, his gravelly laughter blending with her delighted squeals. The sight makes your heart ache in the best way, though you ignore it; it’s silly to get so… attached this fast. Silly and stupid and dangerous.
When the sparklers are spent and your daughter is yawning, John hands her the little pumpkin lantern. “Something to remember your first Halloween by, cub.” He says, his smile kind and genuine.
You thank him again, your voice quiet but heartfelt, and he nods, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary, warm. “If you ever need anything,” he says. “I’m right next door.”
When you decide to bake him a sweet dessert the next day, it certainly has nothing do with the butferflies that flutter in your stomach. It’s moreso because your daughter wants to visit him again and you don’t have the heart to refuse her.
John’s smile when he sees you two at his doorsteps again is still very much welcomed. As is the hand he puts on your lower back, warm and steady.
#noona.writes#cod x reader#cod x you#cod#tf 141 x reader#tf 141 x you#tf 141#cod imagines#john price x reader#john price x you#john price imagines
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