#you’re still right to hold them responsible for the way they hurt you

[kkcauseway]

Hurry Home

Husband Joel Miller x pregnant f!reader

Summary: Your due date is fast approaching and the last thing you expect is to go into labour when Joel isn't home, meaning you have to call him out of work. Even more so, you don't expect that Joel will end up delivering your daughter in the truck on the way to the hospital. Content/warnings: TW-Childbirth. Joel being the cutest most supportive husband. Accidentally giving birth in Tommy's truck on the way to the hospital. So much fluff. No outbreak/ no use of y/n. Word count: 3.4K A/N: Another cute pregnancy fic because I am obsessed with making them! Hope you enjoy!

Main Masterlist I My other pregnancy fics

It’s 6am and you’re not usually awake but in the final stages, final days of pregnancy you’re finding yourself restless so you’re awake usually before Joel’s alarm is anywhere near ready to go off.

This morning is no different.

He’s only just got up himself when you walk into the kitchen. “Mornin’ baby” he utters sat at the table sipping at his coffee. He observes how sunken in on yourself you are, and you only give him a small smile in response. “S’wrong?” He sits straighter immediately noticing something’s amiss.

“Just real tired and achy” you moan as you move over to grab yourself some coffee “please don’t lecture me about coffee today I need it” you speak over your shoulder before turning back to pour.

“Baby m’not gonna lecture you.” He chuckles “you know I only do that as a joke about you sendin’ the baby crazy, you know I don’t mean it. S’goin on? I can tell somethin’s up.”

“Like I say I’m just really tired but no matter what I can’t sleep. And my backs absolutely killing” you utter back still to him as you add sugar. With your coffee made you turn to face him leaning on your elbows against the kitchen island.

He can see just how tired you are so doesn’t want to push anymore. Changing the subject seems the right port of call. “Shall I pick up some takeout for dinner on my way back?”

You could really go for eating your body weight in spring rolls right about now…

After taking a sip of your coffee which perks you up instantly you reply “yeah sounds like a plan. Chinese?”

“Whatever y’want baby.”

“I’ll let you know if baby changes her mind but right now it’s Chinese for the win.” You laugh taking another sip of your flawless coffee. Joel always makes it so perfect and it’s one of the very first things you bonded over when you met. Strong black coffee. You know after a few more sips you’ll have had enough and you know that your midwife advised against it, but being as exhausted as you are you rely on that morning coffee boost.

“Which job are you working on again today I keep forgetting?” You chuckle cursing your baby brain for making you forget literally every single thing of importance. The only things you remember now are which shops supply your favourite snacks, most of which you feel bad for eating but then say fuck it and eat them anyways because the baby wants them, and calories most definitely don’t count when you’re pregnant.

He takes a big swig of coffee, and you watch the way his throat moves as he swallows it. Fuck… it should be illegal how sexy he is. As he toys with the mug he replies “workin’ at the Stevenson’s again. We’re behind schedule ain’t we and I don’t think the weathers gonna hold out on us again today so that’s probably gonna fuck it all up.” Great which most likely means he’s gonna be late back tonight. You huff as he continues. “N’Tommy hurt his back yesterday so that’s gonna slow us down, plus I still haven’t heard back from the suppliers and without them I can’t fin- baby?” He stands and instantly runs over to your side.

Whilst he’d started droning on about his day which you are genuinely interested in no matter how boring a pain had begun washing over your body and from that point on you weren’t able to hear what he was saying. You just leant against the island as you held the underside of your bump groaning softly. The second he noticed he jumped into action.

“Baby what’s wrong?” He rubs at your back waiting on a response.

You take a deep breath as you stand up straight “I don’t know, that wasn’t nice.”

He keeps rubbing at your lower back as he stares at you. He knew something was wrong he could sense it the moment you entered the room.

“Do I need t’have the day off? You know I will baby just say the word.”

“No I’m sure I’ll be okay, just a bit crampy today. Maybe it’s them Braxton hicks the midwife was telling us about?”

Joel’s eyes keep flicking between your bump and your face, nerves evident. You chuckle softly as you stare at him “look I promise I’ll call you if I need you, but you’ve got a busy day you said it yourself you’re behind.”

“Yeah, but you’re more important than work you know that clients will understand if-”

You smile up at him jumping in placing a hand to his chest. “Joel, I promise I’ll be okay.”

He nods definitely reluctant to leave placing his hand over yours and stroking it “Fin, but I want you restin’ up today, okay?”

“Promise.”

“Good girl.” He kisses your forehead as he moves his hand to stroke over your bump.

—-

It’s a few hours later whilst he’s at work that his phone begins vibrating in his pocket. With the noise going on it’s impossible to hear anything so with the worrying morning you had he made sure vibrate was switched on. When he takes it out and sees your name lighting up on the screen, it’s like he knows instantly that something’s wrong. You’d never just call unless you know it’s his lunch break so it’s serious. And he’s sure he knows what’s going on before he’s even hit accept.

He quickly removes himself from the house to a quiet place and rips off his gloves.

“Baby you, okay?”

“She’s coming, this is for real.”

“Shit baby really?”

“Yeah, they’re getting worse. I thought I’d be able to get through it till you got back. I thought it was just Braxton hicks, but I just had a really bad one a few minutes ago, it’s happening I’m sure of it.” You pant heavily down the receiver.

“Okay baby, it’s okay you’re okay, you’re okay.” He repeats and isn’t in hundred percent on if the words are actually for you or for himself. And he’s pretty sure if you tell him your waters have gone that he’s going to have an aneurysm. “Have your waters broke?”

“No” you pant “not yet.”

He can’t help the slight sigh of relief that leaves him. “Okay baby m’comin’ just gonna tell Tommy n’I’ll be on my way, okay?”

“Oh god I’m having another one!” You begin moaning down the phone, it’s agonising and it’s even harder having to do it alone.

“Just breathe. Just breathe that’s it, I’m on my way baby I won’t be long.” He reassures as he runs through the house to find where Tommy is.

“It really hurts Joel!”

“I know baby I know, m’comin’ I promise, sorry m’not there but m’comin’.”

Having found Tommy outside on a what he’s calling a ‘cigarette recharge break’ he runs over to him.

“You best not be comin’ here t’scold me again I told you they help with stress.”

“Tommy I couldn’t give a flyin’ fuck about you smokin’ right now. I gotta go babies comin’” he utters quickly moving the phone to press against his shoulder as he speaks to him.

“Really?” His shocked expression making Joel chuckle as he freezes cigarette millimetres from his mouth.

“Yeah, m’serious I gotta go.”

“Shit.” He takes a quick puff before throwing it to the floor putting it out with his boot. Puffing out the smoke. “I’ll drive you. I’ll tell Bob t’hold the fort, I’ll leave and come back.”

“Sure?”

“Definitely.”

He nods moving the phone back to his ear. “Baby y’still there?”

“Yeah m’here, shit they’re getting close Joel. I can’t talk through them anymore that’s when the midwife said it’s getting serious!” 

“S’okay, Tommy’s gonna drop me to yah okay, is the bag still ready?” He’s out of breath as he questions running to Tommy’s truck.

“Yeah, it’s by the door and the- ugh- the car seat. I’m so glad we planned ahead.” You’re breathing heavily still recovering from the pain.

“Okay, good that’s good.” You can hear the truck door slamming in the background “we’re in the truck we’re comin’, okay? Did y’call the midwife?”

“Yeah, I called earlier. When I called, she said they were still too far apart to go yet either wait till they’re closer together and lasting longer or if my waters break and they’re getting closer so I don’t think it’s gonna be long till we can go.”

“Okay, okay baby m’comin, I’ll be there soon baby I love you. You get yourself ready and call me again if y’need me.”

—-

When Joel makes it home, you’re trying to put your shoes on but are instead struggling through a pain. He rushes to you rubbing at your back as you pant through it. “You’re okay baby I’m here I’m here.”

“We need to go! They’re so close now they’re basically on top of one another, I called triage again the midwife said to go now.”

“Okay baby. Tommy offered t’take us save me drivin.’ You get ya shoes on I’ll get all this in the truck.”

You nod watching as his flustered figure leaves with the bag and car seat. When you’re able to move again you slip on your slippers and he’s back to help you walk towards the truck.

You’re leaning on him as you walk and when he gets to the truck, he releases you to open the door. That’s when you feel something major change below and you gasp as you hold onto the underside of your bump.

“What? What is it?” He looks back at you.

You look down at the floor the puddle now growing surrounding your feet. “My waters Joel!”

“Okay it’s okay it’s fine means it’s definitely happenin’, but we are gonna go now, okay?”

“Oh fuck Joel!” Your body keels over as another pain rips through you. “Fuck holy fuck…” Joel’s quick to be rubbing at your back, hoping to help if only a tiny bit.

He’s so beautiful when it comes to helping you through the pain, he’s exactly what you need. “You’ve got this baby.” He whispers as he holds you close whilst still pushing on your back. It’s agonising, but slightly more bearable now he’s at your side.

Once you straighten, he looks into your eyes with a smile brushing shine hair out of your face. “Okay?”

You nod, and with the all clear he helps you climb into the truck. You can’t help the way you groan uncomfortably at the movement.

“Hey sugar.” Tommy looks back to you.

“Hi” you groan as Joel shuts the door when you’re in. “I’m sorry you had to come out of work.”

“I’m glad of the break don’t worry yourself sugar, you’re more important than work. This niece o’mine is so much more important.”

Joel climbs in the other side groaning as he pulls the door to.

“I’m not strapping myself in I’m too uncomfortable” you groan as you move to sit leaning against the door, kick off your sodden slippers and put your legs over Joel’s lap. He rubs your shins gently with his hand as he studies you. “That’s fine baby.”

The journey is agony every pothole and bump in the road moving you in ways they shouldn’t. Causing extra spasms in your back.

After ten minutes of driving your pains still getting worse with hardly any space between them anymore you can’t help but work yourself up. “Fuck it wasn’t supposed to be like this.” You groan as you squeeze onto the hand Joel’s given you.

“Baby, you know that this baby don’t ever do anythin’ by the book how long did it take f’us to find out she was a girl cus of the way she was dancin’! And how many times has she scared the shit outa us by goin’ quiet. She likes to do her own thing that’s all.”

You just huff struggling as another pain begins to take over. “But I need everything to be okay, what if it’s not okay!”

“Hey, no no do not start doin’ that, calm down and just breathe take it easy, she’s comin’ in her own time and she’s gonna be just fine.”

It’s when you’ve been going another fifteen minutes or so and the hospitals another ten minutes away that you suddenly feel like you need to push. When you think on how fast that seems to be you don’t believe it, but the pressure tells you it’s time.

You reach the hand that isn’t squeezing Joel’s into your leggings and that’s when you realise what’s going on “oh god.”

“What baby?” He turns to look at you worried as your eyes bug. He notices where you’ve put your hand, and it sends his heart racing.

“I can feel her head. I need to push!”

His body jolts. “Shit really? We ain’t too far from the hospital now.”

You nod eyes wide. “Joel she’s coming!” You scream as another agonising pain takes over.

He unbuckles his seatbelt as he turns to face you fully. “Hey shhhh, It’s okay baby don’t panic we’re here to help. If y’need t’push an’ get her out just do it okay? Tommy’s gonna keep drivin’ we ain’t too far away now, but if y’gotta get her out just push darlin’.”

“But I don’t want you to look at me down there like this you’ll think I’m gross. You’ll hate me!” You groan tears welling everything feeling way too much right now.

Fuck… You’re about to have your baby in Tommy’s fucking truck…

He chuckles softly “I’d never think that ever when it comes to you darlin’, you’re brinin’ my baby into this world I could never think that’s gross.”

You’re not a hundred percent on if you trust him, but you don’t have time to dwell on it as that wave begins taking over again. Rendering you unable to focus on anything but that feeling, it consumes you as it rips through you. Like absolute fucking torture. “Oh god there’s another one coming I need to push!”

“S’okay baby just do it, lemme get your leggin’s off you just push if you feel like y’need to okay?”

You nod before taking a deep breath and begin pushing before your leggings are even down. Making the most of pushing with the pain whilst it’s there. Joel quickly takes off your leggings and panties. He then spreads your legs so he can watch what goes on.

Whilst the thought of it has you more embarrassed than you’ve ever been. You don’t even bat an eyelid on him looking down there now. You’re in too much pain to care, are too determined to bring your child into this world to focus entirely on the fact that your husband is watching you basically split into two.

You push for what seems like eternity trying your best to put as much energy into it as possible before taking a deep breath.

“I can see her head” he looks from between your legs to your red sweaty face. “She’s really comin’ baby; you were right she’s right there!” He explains in praise as you pant. You don’t miss the way his eyes go misty; he’s really trying to hold himself back from getting emotional.

“I don’t wana wreck Tommy’s truck!” You utter through pants, your chest heaving like never before as you cry softly.

Joel’s lips part and he places his hands to your knees as he’s obviously about to scold you for even thinking that, but Tommy beats him to it.

“No problem sugar I wana meet this niece o’mine I don’t care. My truck should not be a concern o’yours right now honey.” He utters through a chuckle eyes still focused on the road.

Joel nods, “let’s just get her out okay, no one’s gonna be mad if y’ruin the seats in his truck, they can be cleaned, heck replaced if necessary. Just go with what your body is tellin’ yah and push if y’need to.”

You nod. Okay it’s time to do this.

You continue pushing with the next few pains that hit you which at this point with them practically on top of one another it’s a case of push, breath, pant repeat.

“Okay her heads gonna be out on this next one baby, I got a feelin’, keep goin’!” He exclaims and that’s all you need to hear to push again screaming the truck down as you do, you grab your thighs pulling them towards you as you put all your energy into pushing down, and with that her head pops out. You gasp releasing your thighs throwing your head back as you swallow and pant.

“God baby she’s so beautiful, almost there now come on let’s get her out.” He chokes.

“Wait, I just, I wana…” you struggle to get the words out so instead just move your hand so you can feel her. You chuckle wetly as your hand makes contact with her head. You look down between your legs mesmerised by what you’re seeing. You can’t see her face, but her tiny head is covered in brown hair identical to that of her fathers. “Oh my god she’s got you hair.” You cry looking to Joel who is very clearly still fighting back tears of his own.

“Yeah, she does baby. Now come on push and get her out, okay?”

You nod psyching yourself up ready to push with the next pain. It isn’t long till you’re pushing with all you might, grasping your thighs to help you push, having full understanding getting the shoulders out is even harder. You feel her slowly making an appearance and after a final push she’s here!

You cry out as she leaves your body crying instantly and when Joel picks her up to hand her over to you, you sit up slightly and take her against your chest. Crying uncontrollably in cries that match your newborn tiny daughters.

“She’s here, she’s finally here!” You weep as Joel moves closer to you brushing a hand over her tiny head.

“You did it baby m’so proud of you.” He chuckles through cries as he leans over to kiss your forehead. The second she was here he couldn’t keep the tears in any longer. So here the three of you are in Tommy’s truck crying your eyes out.

“Oh my god I did it!”

The shock is so real. It’s all official now…

Parents for life.

“Shit did I ruin the truck?” You quiz trying to look down at the seats.

“Fuck the truck sugar you just had my niece I couldn’t care less.” You can hear the wetness in Tommy’s voice as both you and Joel look in his direction. You meet his eyes in the centre mirror, and you can see they’re red.

“Tommy miller, are you crying?” You chuckle wetly.

“You know I am sugar. How could I not be she’s here!”

“She’s here!” You exclaim again looking down at her kissing the top of her head as you wrap your jacket around her to keep her warm till you make it to the hospital.

“She’s so beautiful baby m’so proud of you.” Joel sobs with a smile.

“Look how tiny she is” you chuckle moving one of your fingers to brush over her forehead to her nose and then over one of her tiny ears. “She’s absolutely beautiful.”

When she stops wailing and is content wrapped in your jacket you pull her away from your body holding her cradled in your arms so you can study her.

“Babe, she looks just like you.” You chuckle as he moves nearer to admire the other most important woman in his life.

It hurts how much you love her already.

When she scrunches her face obviously not happy and wanting food you can’t help laughing. The way her eyebrows furrow, her face goes red, it’s miniature Joel. “Look it’s angry Joel! She’s your twin!”

He sniggers wetly watching the way she wails softly and hating seeing her that way he brings a hand to brush over her head as you bring her back to your chest. The way he shushes her is beautiful to listen to, how attentive he is with her already is something to be admired. As you both try to soothe her Tommy pulls into the hospital.

Thank god you finally made it.

[munsonsmixtapes]

Hi, I was wondering if I can ask a request for Eddie Diaz x Female Paramedic Reader smut, where they both can't keep their hands of each other and in means of finding a private place end up in the back seat of Eddie's pick up truck and do some 'things'. I am just dying for some soft Dom! Eddie Diaz smut, thank you.

Yes, yes! Thursday’s episode, I could keep my eyes off him! What a beautiful man!

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) slight dom!eddie

“You’re so pretty,” Eddie tells you as he lies on top of you in the back seat of his truck. His hand travels up your thigh and gives it a soft squeeze as his lips find yours once again.

This has become something you've done almost every single night after your shifts. Since you want to keep what's going on between the two of you a secret, you always end up meeting in a random parking lot when you always find yourselves in the back seat of Eddie's truck.

"No I think that's you," you argue as your hands slide into his hair as his lips find their way to your neck. You gasp as he gives it a rough suck and he chuckles against your skin in response.

"How about we both be pretty then?" He asks before nipping the spot right under your ear as his hands move to undo your bra.

"W-works for me."

"I think this is where you look the prettiest, though," he says, as he tosses your bra into the passenger seat before moving down to your chest, kissing all the way down your torso. "When you're underneath me."

He always knows exactly what to say to get you wet and he knows how good he is at it. You can see it in the look in his eyes. His hand unbutton your pants and he pulls them down, not missing the wet patch on your panties. He's quick to take them off along with your socks and shoes and he spreads your legs wide to get a good look at what he's working with.

"Is this for me? Honey, you shouldn't have."

The teasing was funny at first, but now you're getting desperate. You need him to do something now or you're gonna finish the job yourself.

"Eddie, please," you whine.

"Please what, honey?" He knows exactly what you want, but he wants to hear you say it. He wants you to beg for him, to whine, to cry and then he'll give you what you so desperately want.

"Please fuck me. I need you." Your whining always does something to him and now he's tenting in his pants. He's so hard that it's starting to hurt. He needs to get inside soon or he thinks he might explode.

"Well that was all you had to say. Now relax. I'm gonna take care of you."

You watch him retrieve an condom from his pocket and he sets it to the side as he gets himself undressed as quick as possible before rolling the condom onto his cock. Once he's ready, he doesn't hesitate to fully sink himself inside you just how he knows you like, watching your face the entire time.

It seems that no matter how many times you've fucked, he has to stretch you out every time. He can tell that it's still a lot for you to take in and he can see that you're already crying. He asks if you want to stop because of your obvious discomfort, but you just say not, shaking your head furiously. You're not going to be fully satisfied until you can feel every inch of him.

Once he's fully in, Eddie stays there, seeing just long you can hold out and when you ask him to keep going, he pumps in and out, fucking you fast and hard and deep as his hands pin your wrists to the seat, nothing but filthy words coming from his mouth as he does so.

Your moans are nothing but delicious as they fall from your lips, and mixed with your labored breaths, the windows are fogging up pretty quickly. Eddie has barely even done anything, but you already feel so tired from it all.

"You're starting to slur, hon. Already fucked out, huh? Does my big cock wear you out, baby?" All you can do is nod in response. "Alright, well, give me one more and then I'll take you home. Just one more, baby. You can do it."

Eddie gives you a few more thrusts and you're orgasming, your back arching as you do so. His hands slide underneath you as he talks you through it, encouraging you the entire time. And once you come down, Eddie lays you down on the seat and then he cleans you up with what he has in his glove compartment before he helps you get dressed. He then helps you into the passenger seat before he takes you home where he cuddled you until the both of you fell asleep, wrapped up each other's arms.

[zombiemollusk]

worth noting on the subject of abuse: abusers will tell you that the world is awful and people are inherently terrible, but the grand majority of the time that’s just an excuse for them to continue being abusive. no point changing yourself for the better if it’s literally both impossible and pointless, right?

but it is possible. hell, the most insidious kinds of abuse often have performative kindness mixed in, to make it that much harder to escape (and to make the abuser feel better about themselves), which wouldn’t even work if genuine kindness weren’t a thing.

abusers absolutely are capable of being genuinely kind; that’s why their abuse is so terrible. they have a choice in the matter but pretend not to, because that means having to admit they’re wrong about something (which their own abusers have likely conditioned them to think is a much worse thing than it is) and then change themselves to be better, which is hard. and then their victims take their frustrations out on the world and become abusers themselves, and then we have a cycle.

and that’s why we need to be the kindness we want to see. you don’t have to be kind to your abusers - they chose to behave in a way that hurts and alienates you, that’s on them and they can learn to live with the consequences - but you don’t have to inflict that same abuse on everyone else either. you have a choice too.

i know kindness exists because i am kind

[kateschi]

in the stillness

synopsis: after an injury leaves you in the hospital, your husband stays by your side and watches over you, silent for a moment.

pairing: timeskip!bakugou katsuki x f!reader

⊹ ࣪ ˖ notes: him saying 'my wife' does things to me tbh

the steady beeping of machines fills the quiet hospital room, but katsuki can’t hear anything except the pounding of his own heart.

his eyes stay locked on you, lying still in the bed, wrapped in bandages that make his gut twist every time he looks at them.

he’s sitting beside you, arms crossed tightly over his chest, jaw clenched like he’s fighting back the urge to scream.

there’s a storm brewing behind his red eyes, and you can feel it—see it in the way his shoulders are tense, in how his leg hasn’t stopped bouncing since he got here.

“you can go home, y’know,” you murmur with a weak smile. “you don’t have to stay.”

his eyes snap to yours, his scowl deepening. “absolutely not,” he growls. “I’m not goin’ anywhere. you think I’m leavin’ you like this?”

you chuckle softly, even though it hurts a little to laugh. “I’m fine, katsuki. it’s just a few bruises. you’ve seen worse.”

“doesn’t matter,” he snaps, but there’s a roughness in his voice, something he’s trying to bury beneath the anger. “it doesn’t mean I’m leavin’. I should've been there faster. you wouldn’t be in this damn bed if I had been.”

you frown at his words, knowing exactly where his mind is going. “katsuki, it wasn’t your fault. I’m a hero too, remember? I know the risks.”

he scoffs, looking away from you, his hands tightening into fists on his knees. “don’t give me that crap. I’m supposed to have your back, and I didn’t. I was too slow.”

his voice wavers for a split second, and you see the guilt eating him alive.

“hey,” you say softly, reaching out to grab his hand. he flinches at the contact, not because he doesn’t want it, but because it’s you—hurt, reaching out to comfort him when it should be the other way around.

“I’m fine, katsuki,” you repeat, squeezing his hand gently. “you got there. that’s what matters.”

his gaze locks onto yours, fierce and frustrated. “no, what matters is that you wouldn’t be here if I’d been quicker. I shoulda seen it comin’. should've—”

you shake your head, cutting him off. “stop. you’re beating yourself up over something you couldn’t control.”

“that’s bullshit,” he snaps, standing up abruptly, pacing in the small space between the bed and the wall. his hands run through his hair, tugging at the strands in frustration. “I wasn’t fast enough. you could’ve died, because of me being too slow.”

the words hang heavy in the air, and you can see how much they’re weighing on him, tearing at him. this is katsuki at his rawest—angry not because of anyone else, but at himself.

he’s always been his harshest critic, and now, seeing you hurt, he’s taking all that anger out on himself.

you sit up a little, despite the dull ache that runs through your body. “but I didn’t, katsuki. I’m right here. you saved me.”

he stops pacing, standing still, his back to you. his shoulders are tense, and you can hear him take a deep breath, trying to reign in the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside him.

when he finally turns around, his face is a mixture of anger and vulnerability—two emotions he’s never been good at handling.

“damn it,” he mutters, stalking back toward you. he sits on the edge of the bed this time, closer than before, and his hand finds yours again, this time holding on a little tighter.

“you don’t get it, y/n. I can’t—” his voice falters, and for a second, you see something crack in his usual tough demeanor.

“I can’t just sit here and act like it’s no big deal,” he says quietly. “seein’ you like that… I’m supposed to be stronger. supposed to be the one protectin’ you, and I couldn’t even do that right.”

your heart aches at how hard he’s being on himself, but you know this is how katsuki is. he carries the weight of responsibility like it’s his personal burden to bear, and any sign of failure hits him harder than it should.

you squeeze his hand, drawing his attention back to you. “you didn’t fail, katsuki. you got there. you stopped it before it got worse. that’s all I need.”

he doesn’t respond for a moment, just stares down at your intertwined hands, his thumb running over your knuckles absentmindedly. there’s a long silence before he speaks again, this time softer, more controlled.

“you’re my wife,” he mutters, almost like he’s reminding himself of it. “I’m supposed to keep you safe. you don’t get to get hurt like this.”

you smile, tugging lightly on his hand to bring him closer. “and I’m supposed to protect you too. we’re in this together, remember?”

he huffs, clearly still not happy with himself, but the tension in his shoulders eases just a little. “yeah, yeah,” he mutters, leaning back in his chair again.

but his hand never leaves yours, gripping it tightly like he’s afraid to let go.

“you’re not gettin’ rid of me,” he says after a long pause, his voice a little lighter now, though the worry is still there, lingering under the surface. “I’m stayin’ here until they force me out. and don’t even think about tryin’ to convince me otherwise.”

you laugh softly, the sound easing some of the heaviness in the room. “wouldn’t dream of it.”

for a moment, neither of you says anything, just sitting there in the quiet comfort of each other’s presence.

you can feel the intensity of his gaze, the way he’s still watching you like he’s waiting for something to go wrong, but you know he’ll calm down eventually.

he’s stubborn, protective, and always pushing himself harder than anyone else. but you wouldn’t have him any other way.

“rest, will ya?” he mutters after a while, his voice softer now. “I’ll be right here.”

you nod, letting your eyes close as you feel the exhaustion start to catch up to you. his hand is still holding yours, warm and solid, a constant reminder that he’s there, just like always.

you can barely catch him raising your hand to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to it.

kofi — navigation — masterlist

do not copy, translate, or plagarize

[moonstruckme]

hey sooooo I have a fic request for u babe! What about reader with Remus and it's like the first time she's sleeping over and she unexpectedly gets her period and she's like sorry I ruined our night I can go home and Remus is just like what?? No stay and just him soothing her through the cramps

Thank you for your request ml!

cw: period pains, mention of blood, brief allusion to mdni activities (though they truly could just have been making out if you want)

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 960 words

It’s rare, this early in your relationship, that you and Remus can sit down to watch a film and actually watch it. But it seems you’re both thoroughly spent from partaking in those other activities so frequently during the day, and now you’re both just winding down for the night, waiting to see who will admit to wanting to go to bed first. 

Remus is just as content with this, your arm pressed against his and your head heavy on his shoulder, feeling your ribs expand and contract with relaxed breaths. He could get used to having you here. It’s taking more restraint than he could have imagined to keep himself from just offering you his spare key and begging you to come and go as you please. 

“Oh, shit.” 

It’s a whisper, not particularly alarmed, but the way your muscles go stiff tells Remus it’s not nothing. You sit up, taking your weight off of him. 

“What is it?” he asks. 

You don’t answer him at first, squeezing your eyes shut. Your expression is one of unmistakable mortification. You look agonized. Remus tries to let you have the time you need to think, but a worm of unease eats further into his gut with every second of your silence. 

You push out an exhale that sounds laborious. When you open your eyes, there’s enough apology in them for a capital crime. Remus thinks that he’d probably forgive you if you told him you’d committed murder (and maybe that should scare him more than it does). 

“I think I’ve just stained your couch,” you admit. 

“Okay,” he says slowly. He doesn’t see the cause for such distress, but he also isn’t sure what you’re talking about. You’re not holding a drink, so how could you…oh. “Oh, is that all?” 

His nonplussed reaction doesn’t seem to affect your unease. “I’m so sorry,” you say, wincing. 

Remus tuts. “Don’t be, you can’t help it. Do you have anything with you, or do I need to nip to the store?” 

“I’ve got stuff.” You stand to get your bag, turning to grimace at where you’d been sitting on the couch. 

Remus’ reaction skews in the opposite direction. It’s only a splotch; by your response he’d been half convinced you were sitting in a veritable puddle of blood. 

“I’m so sorry,” you say again. “I’ll be right back.” 

“You’re alright, love,” Remus promises you. “Take whatever time you need.” 

While you’re in the bathroom, he addresses the stain. Truly, it’s no great hassle. With friends like his it’s hardly the first trial his couch has faced, and besides that Remus has an unusual amount of experience with getting blood out of things. 

It’s soaking when you come back, a small rag covering the spot from your view. You’ve changed into your pajamas, presumably because you’d stained your pants as well, but this is far from an unwelcome development. You look terribly cuddly. 

“You alright?” Remus asks as you come back to stand by the couch. 

“Yeah,” you say, somewhat quietly. You seem suddenly timid, like a guest in his home. He wants to hug you. 

“Does it hurt?” he presses. 

Your mouth pulls to the side, which is answer enough. “A little. It’s been hurting for a while, I just didn’t recognize it for what it was. Sorry, I wasn’t expecting it this early.” 

“Oh, sweetheart.” He reaches for you, hiding his disappointment when you only put your hand in his. “That’s not a very nice surprise, is it?” 

“No,” you agree with a halfhearted smile. When Remus squeezes your fingers, you squeeze back, and you at least seem up to holding his gaze even if you still look sheepish. “I’m sorry to ruin our night. I can go home.” 

“What?” A bit of hurt bullies its way into Remus’ tone. Your expression changes like you’re surprised to hear it. “No, I think you should stay.” 

You look hesitant, so he tries again, gentler this time. 

“I mean, if you’re hurting and you want to be in your own home, I understand,” Remus says, “but I hope you’re not leaving on my account. I’d like for you to be here.” 

You watch his face as though looking for discrepancies. “Really?” 

“Yeah, sweetheart,” he says earnestly. “Of course I’d love to keep you. Getting your period doesn’t change anything, except that now you’re in pain and I’d like even more for you to stay so I can be with you.” 

The muscles around your eyes relax, your expression softening into something so tender Remus feels his own heart turn to mush. 

He gives your hand a little tug, and you take the cue, sitting back down on the couch between his open legs. 

“Can I put my hand here?” he asks you, touching your stomach. 

“Sure,” you say, still somewhat timidly. You take his hand in yours, moving it down a couple inches until his fingers are skimming the soft fabric of your pajama bottoms. “But it’s more like here.” 

“Oh, okay. Can I put my hand there?” 

With your nod, Remus slips his hand beneath your waistband, to that plush stretch of skin between your belly button and your panty line. He presses down gently. 

“Oh.” Your body goes lax. 

Remus chuckles, dropping his head to kiss your shoulder. “That helps?” 

“Yeah,” you sigh contentedly. “A lot, actually. Thank you.” 

“Don’t mention it.” He pushes on a tense spot experimentally, rewarded when you sink further into his front. “Just don’t try to run out on me the next time something like this comes up, yeah?” 

You agree readily. “Mhm. I wouldn’t have, if I’d known this was going to happen.” 

Remus smudges another kiss onto your shoulder, smug. “Just remember this then, I suppose.” 

[lokigodofmyheart]

JEALOUS

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 1.9k

Summary: You and Bucky had been dating for almost 8 months now. You loved him and he loved you. But your sexual desires weren't completely satisfied. Bucky never went more than a soft and gentle sex, afraid to hurt you. 

Warning/Content: smut, edgind/orgasm denial/ bathroom sex.

MASTERLIST KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

Y/N and Bucky had been dating for almost 8 months now. She loved him, but she was missing something in the sexual area. Bucky was amazing, of course, but because of his strength and his past, he was always afraid to hurt her so the sex was always too soft, too sweet. And she wanted more.  

After talking with Natasha while they got ready for the party, she decided to follow her friend’s advice: make him jealous. So that’s what she did. A little after the party had started, she went to the bar to get another drink, and a handsome man started talking with her. She knew he was flirting with her.  

At normal days, she would cut him off, say she had a boyfriend. But tonight, she wanted to make Bucky jealous, so she smiled and started talking with the guy. Bucky, from the table, took a sip of his drink watching his girlfriend laugh with the strange. 

His jaw had clenched, and his hands tightened around the glass. Steve could notice his friend was tense. He was trying his best to stay in his place. Watching Y/N having fun with another man, letting him touch her arm, giggling to something he said… Yeah Bucky was not happy about this at all. 

“Careful. You’ll break the glass.” Steve says to him with a small smile. Bucky barely heard it, his eyes fix on Y/N and the man. He decided he had enough, standing up and walking to them. 

The guy, named Chris, had asked her about her favorite color. Y/N opened her mouth do answer, but she was cut short when Bucky grabbed her arm firmly, pulling her close to him. His eyes were dark and intense as he spoke. “We need to talk, doll.” 

“Bucky, hey.” Y/N smiles innocently “I’m talking with this nice gentleman right now.” 

Bucky’s eyes narrow as he sees you smile, he clenches his jaw for a moment before he speaks again. His voice is low and firm “No, doll. You’re coming with me. Now.” He didn’t wait for a response. Bucky’s grip on her arm was firm as he practically dragged you away from the man. She could see the anger in his eyes and for a moment she wondered if she pushed him too much.  

“Bucky, what are you doing...?” She asks, but received no answer as he kept pulling her with him, until they finally reach the restroom. He almost shoved her inside the place, locking the door behind them.  

He turned to her, his eyes dark and intense as he spoke “What the hell were you doing?” Bucky demands, his voice low and dangerous. He’s still angry, his eyes dark with jealousy. 

“I was just having a conversation.” 

Bucky scoffs at her response, stepping closer to her, his body almost towering over her frame as he continues “Just talking? Is that what you call flirting now, doll? Smiling, giggling, letting him touch you?” Bucky pushed her against the wall, trapping her with his body “What was that, doll? You were trying to make me jealous?” 

“No...” 

He raises an eyebrow, not buying your lie, he can tell that she was trying to make him jealous, and it worked. He leans in closer, his voice dropping even lower “Doll, you’re a terrible liar. I know what you were doing. You were trying to get a rise out of me, weren’t you?” 

A small smirk appeared on her lips “Maybe...” 

The man smirks, his eyes darkening with desire and possessiveness “You really thought that flirting with another man in front of me would be a good idea doll? You really thought that I would just sit there and watch some guy touch you, knowing you’re mine?” His hands moving to her hips, his grip tight as he holds her in place “You’re mine, doll. Mine. And no one else gets to touch you the way I do. Understand?” 

Y/N’s smirks get wider. He notices it and raises an eyebrow, a mixture of amusement and annoyance on his expression “Oh, you think this is funny, doll? You like playing games, don’t you? Let’s play one then.” 

His hands went under her dress, between her legs. He looked at her a little surprised when he felt the soaked fabric “You’re soaked already...?” 

A small moan came from her lips when he touched her, teasing her through the fabric of her now damped panties. 

“You wanted this to happen, didn’t you?” Bucky spoke with his voice low “You've been teasing me all night, doll... You were asking for this. You wanted me to snap, didn't you?”  

His hands lifted her dress enough to expose her legs and her lacy panties. His lips found her neck, trailing up to her ear while he rubbed her clit through the fabric of the panties “You’re mine.” 

Another moan came from her lips. She wanted nothing more than his hands on her, really touching her. Bucky smirks at the sounds of your moans. He's enjoying the effect he has on you, the way your body responds to his touch "You like that, doll? You like me touching you like this?" 

“Yes...” 

“Good." He continues kissing her neck before he pulled back, looking at her, his eyes dark, filled with jealous and desire "You thought you could flirt with another man and make me jealous, doll. Well, you got what you wanted." His hands ripped her underwear off her body, making Y/N left a surprised gasp.  

He smirks at her surprised expression, his eyes dark and intense when he touched her folds again, making a moan coming out from her lips again. Bucky run his fingers on her before he stopped at her clit, rubbing it slowly. He watched her face, hearing her moans, teasing her, building the moment and when she was close, he pulled his hand away.  

Y/N whines in complaining, looking at him. He then changed his hand from his metal one, doing the same thing. The metal was cold against her wet pussy, and again, when she was close to her orgasm, he stopped and pull his hand away.  

She let out a frustrated noise “Bucky...” 

Bucky looks at her with a smug expression "Yes, doll?" 

“Please...” 

He raises an eyebrow at her plea. He was enjoying teasing her far too much, he didn't want to give in so easily after her little stunt. His hand went back to rub her ever so slightly "Please what?" Y/N moans again. “Use your words, doll." He whispered as he continued rubbing her, but not letting she reach that sweet release, his movements slow and steady. 

“Please...” She says in a moan.  

"Please, what? You're going to have to tell me what you want." He continues to rub her clit slowly, loving how desperate she was. 

She took a breath, trying to stead her voice “...let me cum.” 

He smirks at her demand, his fingers rubbing a little faster "You want to come, doll? You want to come that badly?" Her head nods, her eyes showing how desperate she wants after being denied two times now.  "Beg for it.” his lips by her ear as he whispers. 

“Please, Bucky...please.” She starts to feel her orgasm building again.  

Bucky smirks at her pleading, his fingers rubbing your even faster making her moan a little louder "Please, what, doll? You have to be specific." 

“Please, let me cum...please.” Her voice sound so desperate, he had never heard her like that. 

He leans in even closer, his hand stopping mid-circle and he whispers in her ear again "Say you're mine, doll" 

A frustrated sound escaped her again, when he stopped for the third time.  

“I’m yours. Please...” 

He smirks at her words, his hand starts moving again "That's right doll. You're mine. No one else can touch you.” 

Her head nods “I’m your.”  

His hand finally starts moving faster, giving what she wanted. This time, Bucky didn’t stop when she was close, he rubbed her clit faster, putting a little more pressure and in seconds he watched as she fell apart. Her legs trembled with the strength of her orgasm.  He brings his fingers up to his mouth and licks them "You taste so good, doll.” 

She was a little surprised when he took a step back, pulling her with him. He turned her around and bend her over the sink of the bathroom. He leans in close to her ear, his voice low "But we're not done yet, doll. I'm still not satisfied"  

His hand went between their bodies, holding his cock as he positioned at her entrance. He wasn’t gentle when he pushed inside of her with one hard thrust of his hips, making her moan. He didn’t give her any time to get used.  

Bucky’s hips started moving in a fast and hard pace, putting all his frustration of the night on her. And she was loving every second of it. His metal hand went to her hair, wrapping around it and pulling back. 

Y/N moans at the feeling. Bucky moved ever harder, pulling her hair back “You’re mine. You understand that?” She nods.  He growls as he moves harder, deeper and he pulls on her hair again “Say it.”  

“I’m yours.” She says moaning.  

He leans and speaks in her ear again “That’s right, you’re mine. All mine. No one else gets to touch you. No one else gets to make you feel this way” 

She nods again. The situation and the way he were fucking her hard, keeping her on the sink, was too much and soon her walls started clenching around his cock. Her moans started to get louder and more frequently until she finally orgasmed.  

Bucky was close. His movements tarted to get more erratic and uneven, and feeling her coming around him like that was his breaking point. He let a low groan when he finally cum inside of his girlfriend.  

They stood there, silence for a few seconds, trying to catch their breaths. Bucky was the first one to speak, his voice gentle, a contrast from previously “Are you okay?” 

Y/N nods, not moving from the sink. Bucky pulled out of her carefully, and helped her back on her feet and turning her to look at him. He watches the tired smile on her face while he fixed her dress and his pants, before he pulled her to his arms in a embrace “Are you sure?” 

“I’m sure.” She smiles. 

He looked at her, still with a worried expression, brushing some hair from her face “I wasn’t too rough?” 

“It was perfect. Really.” 

Bucky smiles back, reassured by her words. He leans down and presses a soft, tender kiss on her forehead “Good, I didn’t want to hurt you, doll.” 

“You didn’t.” She looks at him, before speaking again “You know I love you, right? I only flirt with that guy to get a reaction out of you.” 

Bucky smirks at her words, he had a feeling that that was what she was doing but it was still good to hear a confirmation “So you were just trying to make me jealous, huh?” 

Y/N chuckles and nods “And it worked. Maybe I should make you jealous more often if it means sex like this.” 

His hands tightened on her, his voice turned almost to a growl “Don’t you dare.” 

[help-itrappedmyself]

Guys... I started a Cat!Danny thing

Danny is walking in a park. It’s unfamiliar to him, but his surroundings are the least of his worries right now. Because he’s a cat. Currently. Wobbling around on four legs, incapable of human speech. He has a brief thought that he’s lucky he was able to de-transform enough that he wasn’t a ghost cat, wandering around in a park. 

     Still, he’s a cat right now with no idea how to not be a cat anymore. The fact that he doesn’t know where he is doesn’t bother him until he gets out of the park and realizes he wasn’t just in an unfamiliar park. He’s in an unfamiliar city. 

     He sits and tries to think. There are people walking by, probably about his age. All wearing uniforms that he doesn’t recognize, but he can read Gotham Academy from the insignia on them. 

     He can’t hear what happens next over the traffic and chatter of teenagers, but Danny sees some kid push over another and goes over to investigate. He has no clue what he’s going to be able to do as a cat, but he can’t just sit here and watch if they decide to get more physical. 

     Luckily, he can cross the street while a traffic guard halts traffic for the flow of people leaving the school. Nobody notices him as he goes underneath a bush to watch the bully. 

     They mostly argue. The bully is being mean, but other than pushing the other boy down, seems to leave it at a verbal confrontation. The other boy got up, and the bully took his bag and threw it to the ground, spilling school supplies everywhere. Two pencils and an eraser end up rolling next to where Danny was hiding under a bush. Danny’s fur bristled.     “You’re so lucky you even go here. If your dad wasn’t Bruce Wayne we never would have let you in the gates.”     The bully saunters off and leaves the boy alone to pick up all his stuff. Danny, wanting to help, bites the eraser and brings it over to the boy’s bag. The boy sees him and stills, Danny drops the eraser and walks back to the bush, this time coming back with one of the pencils. He repeats this for the last pencil and the boy still hasn’t moved. 

     Danny sits and tilts his head at the boy. He tilts his head in response. The boy seems sad. Not in his face, which is blank, or in his body, which is still tense from the earlier interaction. More like his energy is sad, he seems rather resigned to Danny.

     “Mrow.” Danny forgets he is incapable of intelligent speech at the moment. But his noise makes the boy smile a little. 

     Danny does it again, leaning down and pushing the pencil towards him at the same time, trying to tell him to pick it up. 

     “Thank you.” The boy says politely, reaching over very slowly to grab his things. He finishes packing up his back just as slowly. Then reaches his hand out towards Danny.

     Danny tenses, but the boy stops his hand before it can touch him, fingers down. Aw, the boy wants to be friends! Danny bumps the hand with his head saying, ‘we can be friends’, which translates to  a small “mrrp”. 

     He wouldn’t mind being friends with the boy while he’s here. The boy slowly drags his fingers across Danny’s head, and Danny lets him.

     Then Danny is being lifted, and he is not okay with that. He is small! Heights are much higher when you’re this small!

     ‘What are you doing?’ comes out as “Mrrr.” Danny growls lightly in frustration, letting his claws out enough to gain hold of the boys’ shirt. He doesn’t want to hurt him, but he doesn’t want to fall either.

     “Shhh, it is okay.” The boy murmurs to him.“I want to take you home, I’ll give you food and shelter.” 

     Danny, for lack of a better option, thinks this is actually a great way to gain food. He’s not sure how he feels about cat food though. Danny lets out one short purr in response and the boy smiles another little smile.

     “You have to be good.” He tells him. “And no one can know you’re there, so you will be transported in my backpack.”

      Danny feels less good about that, and squints at the boy. The boy shifts his hold to one hand and rearranges his backpack so that the books are in the section meant for a computer, with cushioning to theoretically block them from hitting Danny. All small items are moved into the other pocket, and two books are pulled out entirely. They are placed on the ground before the bag is brought in front of Danny. 

     Danny looks between the bag and the boy twice. He ends up looking at the boy, and moves his paw to the boys’ cheek. He purrs once in confirmation, then turns back to the bag and crawls in. He curls up at the bottom, and looks up as the boy zips it almost entirely shut, leaving a bit of space between the zippers at the top of the bag. He feels movement as the boy gets up and starts walking, but the boy is careful. Danny barely feels anything, just looking through the crack as the sky turns into the roof of a car.

     Well, he’s committed now. Danny takes a nap.

[kissitbttr]

this is miguel o’hara being a dick

pairing: miguel o’hara x fem!reader

-

miguel knows he’s fucked.

he has been neglecting you, putting his work above your needs and ditched on dates he can’t count with his fingers. at first you were okay, given that you’re dating such a busy man like him, you understand the consequences.

but you’ve had enough. there were nights where you cooked dinner, only to be left untouched by him or where you softly cried yourself in the middle of the night because he was still out. the only time he comes home is when you’re already asleep, then he left to the HQ in the morning before you’ve gotten the chance to wake up.

you confronted him about this. paid a visit to his office before going to work. Jess and Lyla had warned you to not disturb him but you managed to make them back off with a single frightening look.

yes. they are scared of you. a lot of them are. they do not want to test you at all.

the moment you stepped into his office, he didn’t even bother to look. eyes were just too focused on his work that he assumed Jess was the one who walked in.

“oh, you’re fucking your co-worker now?” your tone laced with sarcasm and anger with arms crossed over your chest,

hearing the familiar voice, he had never whipped his head so fast. “y/n? what are you doing here?”

“well” you start, heels clicking against the floor as you step towards him. “since my boyfriend has been MIA for almost a week i figured i should stopped by.”

his head shook, turning his focus back to what he thought mattered most. “not right now, mi amor. I’m working.”

“i can see that, dumbass” you respond in a cold tone. frowning as to why he couldn’t take one second off from that god damn screen. “you and me are going to get breakfast together. now. before i go to work.”

“i told you I can’t. I’m busy” he replies, brushing you off with his hand. “next time.”

“i’m a busy woman too!” your voice shakes, wanting so bad to scream at him and throw that tiny desk at his head. “but I always want to make time for you, Miguel!”

no response. he muttered something under his breath but you couldn’t hear him.

un-fucking-believable

“you’re such a fucking asshole, you know that?” tone laced with venom as you spit the words. clenching your fists by your side as you struggle to hold back the tears. “i feel like this relationship is one sided, the only person that is truly making an effort is me. you don’t—“

Miguel couldn’t take it anymore. he threw a desk and it went flying, thankfully it didn’t hit you. though your eyes went wide in shock, a loud gasp left your lips as you covered your mouth with your hands.

“you’re right! I don’t! I don’t care about some silly little fucking breakfast when the universe depends on me!” he pointed at himself as his irises turned red when he looked at you. his breathing went heavy and he still wasn’t aware how scared you were at him at that point.

“do you have any idea how fucking hard it is to keep all this shit together?! how many people will die if i don’t do what i gotta do! I don’t always like it, y/n but i have to do it! and here you are trying to play house with me it’s fucking pathetic!” he scoffed, putting his hands on hips.

oh he did not realize how much his words hurt.

the room was filled with silence. you stared at him in disbelief but remained a stoic expression. you were taught better than to be weak before any men. Miguel was no exception. your mother would be disappointed if you let a man win.

“wow” you breathed, nodding. “that was a good speech actually, the longest one I’ve ever heard you talking” you tried to sound sarcastic but how you felt and how you sounded failed you.

Miguel was quick to notice this and his features quickly soften. he reached out quickly to hold you.

“cariño i—“

“I’m returning back to my apartment by five. do not fucking look for me” it was final. the way you said it, how your eyes remained empty as you spoke to him. Miguel knew better than to test you,

but he just did and now he’s paying the price,

his heart broke when he heard you said that. you were so tired of him and you just wanted him back. you want your man back but he couldn’t see how that mattered to you.

“baby, please—“

you held your hand as you turned around. “don’t you even think about sending Jess or Miles my way.”

with that you walked out of his office without uttering another word. leaving him speechless and heartbroken. he knew better than to follow you out, it would just make things worse. he was just going to let you cool off.

he didn’t know how long it was gonna take.

it has been almost a month that you two have been living separately. and he’s losing his mind. he can’t sleep, he can’t eat, he can barely walk out of the house without seeing all the things that remind him of you. the team even sensed something is wrong because he has been more short tempered than before and it almost made the rest of spider society terrified of talking to him.

he’s gotten more violent, that’s for sure. every enemy he encountered, he would leave them bleed with their faces unrecognizable. it was his way of taking his stress out. not exactly healthy but it’ll do for now.

but he thinks that this has gotten too far. he misses you terribly, your scent, your laugh, your voice, your body, and mostly… your pussy

God, the amount of times he sniffed your panties while he jacked off as the image of you clouded his mind was simply not enough.

and now here he stands before your apartment door. dressed nicely in a white buttoned up shirt with his sleeves rolled to the elbows and a pair of black pants. his ring cladded fingers nervously grip around the boquete as the other hand shoved into his pocket.

Miguel had never been this nervous before. toeing his shoes and tapping his toes against the floor rapidly. it’s probably already been fifteen minutes that he’s standing like that staring at your door. thinking far too carefully what he wants to say.

he decides it’s now or never as he raises his fist and knock softly against the wooden door, hoping that you’re home.

“coming!” he hears your voice, his stomach somersaults hearing that after what it felt like a thousand year. “i am so hungry, why are you delivery guys always taking so—“

soon as you open the door, you freeze. definitely not the takeout delivery boy and instead it’s the one person you’ve been avoiding for God knows how long.

Miguel’s mouth hangs open slightly as he slowly taking in the sight of the gorgeous woman before him. you put on your favorite lime green night gown that stops just above your knees with a white silky robe, your hair fall down gracefully. natural curls framing your face. eyes glinting under the light, he almost falls to his knees and thank the Lord for your existence.

beauty doesn’t even begin to describe how you look tonight.

Miguel realizes how he probably looks like an idiot. clearing his throat to regain his composure as he smiles awkwardly at you. “Hi.”

you stare at him as your features then showcase a displeased expression. “what are you doing here?”

you’re leaning your body against the doorframe, arms crossed in annoyance. eyes flickering from his face to the flowers he’s holding and back up to his eyes. as much as you hate to see him, you can’t help that little feeling of butterflies in your stomach when you see the flowers he’s holding.

tulips. your favorite

he takes a one step closer to your frame, breathing out a sigh as he looks down at you. “I’m sorry, mi amor.”

that earns a scoff from you, looking away. “good start.”

“i was a horrible boyfriend.” he admits, gulping as he sees how sadness and exhaustion taking over your face just like that. “you don’t deserve that. what i said to you that day… none of it was true. you were not… pathetic, nor were the idea of having breakfast together… I appreciate every single thing we’ve done together, baby. believe me, por favor…”

a hard stare is the only thing he gets from you. the way your lips form into an angry pout and how your eyes seem to get tired and bored from his confession.

you’re a difficult person to please. he knows that.

“i know that being stress is no excuse of what I’ve done… I should’ve—fuck I should’ve done better. a month without you was like hell, mi corazon. ay, me sentí como si estuviera perdiendo la cabeza.” he sighs in frustration, head shaking as he recalls many sleepless nights. “i love you so so much. i do not want to go through that again … i know that it’s going to take forever to get your trust back and everything, but i swear on my mother’s grave that i—“

“stop talking”

he shuts his mouth after that. eyes looking up to you when he realizes you’re talking to him after a prolonged silence that’s taking over.

seeing how broken he looks almost feels like your heart got plucked. as mean as you are or as much as you wanted to look like you don’t care, you can’t when it comes to Miguel. you love this man far too much and despite his cold cold persona, that’s a huge sweetheart underneath.

“you hurt me, Miguel.” eyes casting down the floor as you try to keep your voice low. “you threw a desk to my direction…”

he shakes his head at that, resisting the urge to cradle your cheek. “lo siento, mi amor. I didn’t mean—“

“yes i know, i heard you.” you sigh, eyes closed momentarily. “you scared me”

Miguel feels his heart breaks when he hears how your voice breaks. he carefully lifts his hand to softly palm your cheek, thumb grazing against the skin. he exhales a soft sigh when you aren’t pushing him off.

“I didn’t mean to do that to you, my love. fuck, I’ve hurt you. i will never forgive myself for that. i was supposed to be the one who protect you and i was being a huge asshole.”

“a cute one though” you pout at him,

he chuckles at that, feeling the tension between you two are finally cutting down. “you’re too sweet, baby… after all i had done to you”

“nothing compared to how you treated me for the past two and a half years.” you smile sweetly at him, hand wrapping around his wrist. feeling at home once he holds you in his palm. “still a good man.”

he shakes his head in disagreement. “no, no that doesn’t excuse it… i was in the wrong.”

you hum in response, looking at the pretty flowers still in his hand. “are those for me?”

he nods with a smile, “you’re my only woman, no?”

you bite the inside of your cheek as you smile, taking it from his grasp as you sniff the pretty petals. “i love them. thank you.”

he once again goes quiet, taking another step closer. eyes looking down at your glossy lips and he can’t take it anymore. he doesn’t care if he’s stepping boundaries here. “i miss you, cariño. can i show you just how much?”

his offer sends shiver down your spine, making it impossible for you to stand still. Miguel always knows your sweet spot, how to make your knees feel wobbly without having him to touch you.

you do miss him touching you,

“i have a ballet class to teach tomorrow, papi. Saturday morning class, you remember ?” a pout formed on your lips, yet you still allow him to pull you close to him as he closes the door behind. “plus don’t you have work too? i bet Jess needs you.”

Migue nearly growls at you calling him ‘papi’. his jeans growing tight as you look up to him with doe eyes that you know he loves. though sometimes, you don’t understand the effect you have on him.

“that can wait… you’re more important to me than anything” he whispers, giving your open hand a kiss. large palm coming down to grip your waist, giving it a light squeeze. “do you want me too?”

you respond with a slow nod, biting back a smile as you interlock your hand with his pulling him inside. his smirk grows wider as he leans over to capture your mouth in his,

“let me fuck you real good then we can come home, eh mi vida?” he promises against your lips, slipping your soft silky robe off of you before picking you up in bridal style causing to shriek and giggle,

“i wanna hear you scream my name.”

-

part 2?

[nadvs]

home before dark (part three)

pairing rafe cameron x kook! female reader

rating mature 18+

summary as children, you and rafe were best friends, but then tragedy suddenly struck his family and he shut everybody out. years later, you need his help when a pushy ex-boyfriend won’t leave you alone. rafe is perfect for the job because everybody’s afraid of him. except for you.

content warnings stalker ex, violence, substance abuse, death and mourning of parent

» masterlist

· · ── ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ── · ·

Rafe is sitting in a chair in the front room of your home, his chin resting on his hand, hardly paying any attention to the sitcom playing on the tv screen.

He’s pissed off. Why did it have to storm tonight of all nights, when he doesn’t have anything to numb the pain, nothing to drown out the sound of the rain drumming on the windows?

In his haste, he didn’t pack any coke before coming here. He didn’t think he’d need it this bad.

And that photo he saw upstairs. It’s making everything so much fucking worse.

This is how the world repays him for helping someone. Figures. He’s used to having shit luck. Trying to make his own father love him has been a losing game, and he’s been at that for years, so why would anything else go his way?

“Hey.” Rafe straightens when he hears you. You look into the room. “Did the thunder wake you up, too?”

He hasn’t slept at all. But he nods.

There’s a blankness in his stare, the tv casting dull colors over his face. He didn’t bother to turn the light on.

You cross the room, hazy from your interrupted sleep, and settle on the couch. You’re far away from him, acting like you’ve never touched, even though you were just pressed against each other on his motorcycle.

You wonder if it felt nice to him, too. Or if you were just extra weight on his bike, an irritating responsibility he was cornered into taking on.

“Do you have any booze around here?” Rafe mutters. You catch the desolation in his tone.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

You instantly feel ridiculous for expecting you won’t be met with the cold shoulder. You doubt he’ll answer. But then, because the world must be off its axis, he does.

“Fucking hate this weather,” he says.

His words make a chill sink into your bones. You remember your father telling you the news years ago after he got the phone call. A torrential downpour. The freeway. Zero visibility.

Anne lost control of her car.

By the look on your dad’s face, you knew what that meant. Rafe’s mother didn’t survive the wreck.

He doesn’t have to say it. You know that’s why he hates storms.

“I can distract you,” you offer, “if you want?”

It was something you did as kids. Rafe would be angry or sad or hurt or anything and you’d talk his ear off about whatever you could think of until the dark cloud hanging over him drifted away.

His feelings always felt too big for him. You were the best at making them small enough to manage.

Rafe is used to wanting to be left alone. But not right now. Not if he can be with you. Admitting it feels impossible. The wall he spent years building around himself is solid from both sides.

“It’s your house,” he finally says. “Do what you want.”

You take it an invitation to stay. You turn your attention to the tv, as if holding eye contact with him will make him take it back.

It gives him a chance to look at you. How the fuck have you not lost patience with him yet? Why do you still care?

“I keep wanting to ask why you’re helping me,” you say, just loud enough to be heard over the tv.

Rafe exhales sharply, rubbing his forehead.

“This is you distracting me,” he scoffs. “Aren’t you supposed to do the talking?”

The fact that he’s expecting you to replicate the days of your youth gives you a sliver of hope that maybe he misses them, too.

“There has to be a reason you’re doing it,” you murmur.

“Can’t you just be happy that I am?” he responds. A white flash of lighting pools into the room for a split second.

“No,” you say. Finally, he gives in.

“Because I…” he begins.

The noise from the show is adding to the frustrating confusion engulfing him. He angrily picks up the remote and turns the tv off, plunging both of you in darkness.

You turn your head towards him again, only able to make out the hard outline of his jaw.

“I always had to look out for you,” he says. “I guess I still do.”

You look down at your lap, taken aback that Rafe holds any sense of loyalty for you.

You almost want to remind him of what he said earlier, that you’re not kids anymore, but you don’t want to challenge him.

“And I don’t know why,” he adds, voice thin, “but you’re not a dick to me like everyone else is, so I kind of owe you.”

All you can hear is your own breathing and the ticking of the clock in the foyer and the tap of faltering raindrops. The storm is passing.

“It’s because you didn’t do anything wrong,” you say into the silence. “It’s not like you did something to make me hate you. You shut me out, but I get why.”

Your words reverberate through him. He wonders if you think that he hates you.

Still, you could have gone to any other guy and asked him to pretend to be your boyfriend.

“Why’d you come to me?” he asks.

“Because he’s scared of you.” You don’t have to nor do you want to say your ex’s name.

“And you’re not?”

“No.” You tilt your head. “We used to be best friends.”

You say it like he wouldn’t remember. He couldn’t erase it from his brain if he tried. And he has.

The heaviness of all this is suffocating to him. The past is done. There’s no point in digging up things that’ll just hurt him all over again.

He stands up, chasing out the familiarity that was slowly growing between you. But before he leaves the room, he pauses, pinching the bridge of his nose with trembling fingers.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, either, alright?” Rafe says into the dark, irritated, answering the question you asked him on the shoreline hours ago. “Not on purpose.”

As his shadow retreats, the words he left you with ring in your head. He doesn’t blame you. But you did do something wrong.

Rafe had his head buried into his pillow, throat burning from crying through his grief, every night for months.

As he lies in an unfamiliar bed all for a girl whose very existence makes him feel a multitude of good and bad all at once, he’s thrown back into those days, as if he’s a boy again.

His mother used to tell him it was a strength to be so sensitive, but her voice faded and his father’s voice got so much louder. What he tells him every time Rafe can’t swallow down the tears echoes in his mind. Toughen up. You’re fine.

But he’s not fine. He can’t stop crying and he knows he has to tell you he can’t do this anymore. Being with you brings back too much.

But the next morning, when Rafe finds you sitting at the kitchen island, wearing your pajamas and a smile, the prospect of ending this is tossed away.

You have access to him that nobody else does. You and that damn smile are a weakness that he didn’t know he had. And while he can act happy and careless around everyone else, he can’t put on an act for you. Ever.

“How’d you sleep?” you ask. Your hands are cupping a mug, your phone sitting beside it.

“Like shit,” Rafe replies, pacing to the fridge. “Took hours to fall asleep.”

You feel guilty that he didn’t have a good rest, considering he’s only here because you were too frightened to be alone.

“You?” he says after a beat. The ice must be melting if he’s actually asking about you for once.

“My sleep was good,” you reply. “It helped having you here.”

Rafe’s cheeks get warm. Someone actually wanting him around is a foreign feeling.

By the time your conversation was over last night, the rain and thunder had dwindled. It couldn’t have been the storm keeping him awake. Curiosity pushes you to figure it out.

“Was the bed uncomfortable?” you ask.

“No,” he answers. He finds a glass and fills it with water. His throat still hurts from crying last night.

You watch him, his presence commanding as he leans back against the counter opposite you. The dark, shallow bags beneath his eyes are illuminated in the bright lights above you. He looks exhausted.

“Was the room too warm? Or too cold?” you say.

“Can you relax?” Rafe huffs, his tone almost playful.

He isn’t about to admit that he can’t remember the last time he fell asleep sober. And he’s definitely not going to tell you that the last thing he thought about before finally passing out was that his cheeks burned from how hard he was wiping his tears away.

“The least I can do is make sure you’re comfortable since I made you stay the night,” you say.

His brows furrow as he takes a long gulp, tipping his head back.

“Nobody can make me do anything,” he replies once he downs the water. You know it’s the truth. It makes the fact that he’s doing this for you all the more meaningful.

Before you can respond, your phone buzzes loudly on the countertop. Rafe sees your face fall when your eyes drop to the screen. You read the notification for a moment, then sigh and shake your head.

“He emailed me,” you say incredulously. “I blocked him on everything and he emailed me.”

Rafe leans over to see if you’ll let him look for himself. You slide your phone towards him and he picks it up to read Ty’s message.

What you have with him isn’t real. We both know it. Let me prove that I can treat you how you deserve. Please. I’m sorry for everything. I love you.

A part of Rafe is concerned you’ll fall for it.

“What’re you gonna do?” he asks.

“Block him there, too,” you mutter. “He does this. He’s mean, then he pretends like he changed, then he’s mean again… It’s the same bullshit over and over.”

Rafe blocks him for you and places your phone on the counter. You bite the inside of your cheek as the dread you always feel when Ty contacts you floods your every sense.

The despair on your face makes Rafe’s stomach sink. The next time he sees Ty, he’s beating the shit out of him.

“He’ll stop, okay? I’ll make him,” he says.

You’re still skeptical. Rafe definitely scares him, but Ty called him a bullshit rebound last night. He wrote that what you have with Rafe isn’t real. You’re not fooling him. And you’re afraid he won’t leave you alone until he believes you’re actually in a new relationship now.

“Yeah.” You exhale slowly. “Doesn’t sound like he’s falling for this, though.” You motion between you and him.

Rafe has to take a moment to catch your meaning. Falling for this. Your pretend relationship. Right.

“I didn’t tell anyone it’s fake,” you say, afraid it somehow got out. “Did you?”

Rafe shakes his head no and puts his empty glass in the sink. He scratches the back of his neck and looks at you again.

“Do you want me to keep crashing here until your mom and dad get back?” he asks.

You hate that your mind goes there, but you wonder when the last time he said mom out loud was. You shake away the thought.

“Not if you can’t get any actual sleep,” you respond.

Rafe typically gets irritated when someone can’t make up their mind. He wants everything done quickly, so he doesn’t have to stop and think.

But this is you and even though you’re scared of sleeping on your own, you’re considering how staying here affects Rafe and it gives him a heavy feeling of shame. He spent years avoiding the only person who never abandoned him. The only person who still gives a shit.

“I’ll just leave my stuff here,” he says, making the decision for you.

“Thank you.” You mean it. The thought of someone being here with you is comforting.

As usual, Rafe ends the conversation quickly and abruptly, leaving the room. You soon hear the engine of his motorcycle rattling loudly from outside, the roar fading as he drives away.

You hoped that he’d at least want to hang out with you now. You don’t understand why you keep expecting more from him. It just hurts you every time.

You don’t hear from Ty for the rest of the day. You manage to run some errands without worrying you’ll see him because even when Rafe isn’t with you, you don’t feel as scared knowing he’s in your corner.

The days of the week mean practically nothing on the north side of the island over the summer. There’s a party almost every night, this time at a house just down the street from you.

You invite your friends to your place, drinking as you get ready, deciding to walk over to the party. You turn up already tipsy, finding yourself looking for Rafe even though you know you should only really be doing that if Ty is bothering you.

When you walk into the loud, crowded house, seeing you reminds Rafe of why he isn’t smoking or drinking or snorting anything tonight.

He’s had countless fights while wasted, but he wants to have a clear mind when he sees Ty. He needs to make the fucker pay and not give him a chance to get even one punch in.

You meet Rafe’s blue eyes every so often throughout the night, glad you’re finally able to have fun again because you know he’s keeping you safe.

The second Ty walks in, even though he hasn’t come close to approaching you, you make your way to Rafe.

You stand close to him, placing your hand in his, acting like a girlfriend to someone who is only doing this because he feels an overdue sense of loyalty to you.

Rafe stills for a moment before he laces his fingers with yours. His skin is hot, making your heart flutter in a way you know it shouldn’t.

“Hey,” you say over the music. His ring presses against your thumb.

“Hey,” he says tensely. He’s not used to affection, especially in front of people.

But this is what he signed up for. He needs to act like a boyfriend and he’s not going to fuck this up. It’s the first real responsibility he’s had that he actually gives a shit about.

His eyes land on Ty and his plan to confront him takes a backseat when he realizes he doesn’t want to let go of you. Right now, he’d rather have his hand in yours instead of using it to throw a punch. It’s like every touch you give him leaves a heavier impact than the last.

You immediately notice how tense Rafe is.

“Can you relax?” you joke, imitating the way he said it this morning. Your heart warms when his dimples appear, framing a smile he can’t stifle.

“I don’t sound like that,” he says.

“You sound exactly like that,” you reply with a laugh, picturing how tired he looked in your kitchen. “Please tell me you got some sleep today.”

Again, the concern you seem to have never lost for him appears.

“I did,” he says. He crashed in his bed the second he got home.

“How come it took you so long to fall asleep last night?”

Rafe’s knee-jerk reaction is to avoid the question. Especially if it’s you asking. But he can’t forget how shitty it felt when you brushed him off last night at the beach, so he pushes himself to answer.

“Just, uh…” He looks away. “Couldn’t turn off my brain.”

You gaze up at him. It almost aches, how badly you’d love to know what goes through his mind.

“When did this start?” one of his friends amusedly asks, pointing between you two. You notice Ty close by, his gaze sharp as he eavesdrops. Rafe notices him, too.

You squeeze Rafe’s hand tighter, clinging to him. He notices that his entire body buzzes when you do that.

“What, was I supposed to call you?” Rafe responds.

“I’m just saying,” his friend replies with a laugh, “it’s like all of a sudden, you got a girl out of nowhere.”

Alarm stings every inch of your skin when you notice Ty’s posture straighten in your peripheral.

“Don’t sound so surprised, asshole,” Rafe replies lightheartedly, gently pulling his hand out of your grasp to drape his heavy arm around your shoulders, pulling you flush against him.

You follow his lead, wrapping your arms around his torso. The relief from how well he played it off and the comfort you get from how he’s holding you is overwhelming.

Rafe dips his head to speak into your ear, his cheek brushing against yours, his cologne fresh.

“Think he’s falling for it now?” he mumbles, voice lowering an octave. With the way he’s holding you, you might fall for it yourself.

“Yeah,” you breathe. You squeeze him tighter, not for show, but because you want to. You’ve wanted to hug him since the funeral, when he was a boy with bloodshot eyes in a crumpled black suit, but he never let you get this close.

He brings his other hand up to your face, cradling your jaw, his thumb rubbing over your cheek. His touch is so tender that you have to remind yourself it’s Rafe doing this.

You’re suspended, bodies curved together, cheeks brushing, like you’re playing a game to see who’ll let go first.

“And he’s staying away from you, right?” His breath is warm against the shell of your ear.

You nod, at a loss for words.

“Is he watching?” he asks. You can see from the corner of your eye that your ex is staring right at you.

“Mhm,” you hum with a nod.

At this point, Rafe is being selfish. This is close enough. You wanted him to act like you’re a couple and he’s done it. He can pull away now. Maybe he should keep his arm around you for a little longer, but he doesn’t need to be this close.

Instead, he lowers to press his lips against your cheek and you hug him tighter, and fuck, it feels so good that he misses it before it’s even over.

He can’t believe that his body yearns to be this close to you. You opened up the floodgates the second you put your hand on him the first time a couple of nights ago. How good would it feel if you were doing it for real?

You lean into his kiss. His lips are so soft. You wish you could feel them against yours. It’s all to make everyone think you’re actually together. You keep telling yourself that.

When your arms around him weaken just a little, you feel something at his back, protruding against your forearm.

Your eyebrows draw together as you pull back only a few inches to meet Rafe’s eyes, your mind going to the worst possible scenario. Your breath catches. It’s a weapon.

“What is that?” you ask quietly, nudging against the hard item tucked into the band of his jeans.

“What do you think?”

“Rafe,” you say. His jaw tightens. The moment is gone. The wall is back up. Your tone teeters on a thin edge, like you’re judging him.

“You’re surprised the psycho owns a gun?” he scoffs.

He didn’t brush off what Ty said like you thought he did. It makes your stomach turn that your ex’s lie actually stuck with Rafe.

You glance over to see Ty’s back as he storms out of the room. Part of you is relieved, but right now, you mostly feel anxious that Rafe believes a lie.

“I never called you that,” you reiterate to him quietly. “I’ve never said anything bad about you. You think you can trust what he says?”

“I’m not planning on using it on him, okay?” Rafe snaps. “Unless he asks for it.”

He wishes you didn’t notice it. If you didn’t think he was fucked up before, you do now. He’s pissed off and embarrassed and disappointed all at once.

You’ve been trying to reconnect with him for so long. If he gives in, you’ll see that he’s not even close to who he was when you knew him. He’ll just let you down.

He realizes he hasn’t kept his distance only because you’re a painful reminder of a time he wants to forget. It’s also because he’s sure you wouldn’t like who he’s become. And he can’t take the rejection.

You’re still, unable to believe that he actually has a gun. That he would use it. That these are the lengths he’s going to to keep you safe.

You haven’t lost contact with him, but Rafe checks out of the moment and pulls his arm away.

“He’s gone now,” he mutters. You get the message. He’s done pretending. You drop your arms and find your friends again.

Hours later, the party is dwindling, but far from over. Rafe has been sober the entire time, making him all the more antsy and irritable.

He thought he’d beat the shit out of Ty tonight, but he’s exhausted and he can’t stop shaking. Why the hell is he shaking?

Rafe loses his patience and approaches you while you’re dancing with your friends.

“Let’s go,” he says, holding your hand. The contact makes your head spin all over again. Even though you’d like to stay, you comply.

You notice Ty’s eyes on you when you leave. He’s pretending to be a good guy again, keeping his distance, but you know it’s only a matter of time before he cracks.

Once you reach Rafe’s motorcycle in the cool night air, he hands you his helmet and you take it without hesitation.

After the short drive, you walk up the steps to your front door together. But you soon stop in your tracks, eyes wide as you stare at the ground.

Rafe follows your eye line. Mud’s been tracked onto the porch in fragmented footprints.

“I can’t… I can’t remember if that was there before,” you stammer. “Did you see it this morning?”

“I don’t know,” he responds. He rushed out of here too quickly to have noticed something like that.

You look around, as if you can find an answer in the darkness surrounding your home. You would have noticed it after you ran your errands earlier today. Probably. Maybe.

It could have been you. Or Rafe. Or one of your friends.

Or Ty. He didn’t arrive at the party until late into the night. Could he have been creeping around your house? Why would he?

Rafe glances up to confirm that there aren’t any cameras aiming at the door. It pisses him off when he notices there aren’t any cameras at all. He quickly catches on that your breathing has grown faster.

“Come on,” he says, gently pulling you by the crook of your elbow. “Let’s go inside. It’s nothing.”

He doesn’t believe his own words, but there’s no reason to scare you any further.

“What if he was here?” you say, letting Rafe pull you to the door. He takes the key out of your hand and pushes it into the lock.

“Then I’ll shoot him,” he mutters.

“That’s not funny.”

“I wasn’t joking.”

The door swings open, prompting the security system to start beeping.

You flip on the light and enter the code as he shuts the door behind you. You’re so frightened and unnerved that you jam one of the buttons with the wrong finger, prompting a harsh error noise from the system.

“Can you do this?” you huff. You tell Rafe the five-digit code and he quickly enters it, arming the system again. You notice his hand is trembling.

“Are you okay?” you ask. You know it’s not from fear. Rafe isn’t afraid of anything. He must be high on something. “What’d you take?”

“Nothing,” he says with a humorless laugh. It dawns on him that his body is reacting to the lack of coke in his system. “That’s the problem.”

“What?” you ask.

Rafe sighs, double-checking that the front door is locked for your peace of mind.

“I can’t be wasted if that asshole tries me. I haven’t taken anything since last night,” he says. “But it just made shit worse.”

He realizes how messed up it sounds. How messed up it is that being sober for one night makes him shake like this. He has a problem. But he never really had a reason to get clean before now.

You watch Rafe checking the lock and like a riptide, everything crashes down on you at once.

The torment from Ty harassing you. The guilt from asking Rafe to take on this responsibility. The sadness from knowing that he’s only doing it because he feels a sense of obligation for you and wants nothing more.

“Bet you’re glad I have a gun now,” Rafe mutters. He turns to look at you, your expression grim. “What?”

“I don’t want to keep bothering you with this,” you admit, your heart racing with panic. “I don’t want you to have to sleep here and I don’t want you to have to drive me home all the time and… I hate that this is happening and that I had to drag you into it.”

His eyes travel over the anguish etched on your face.

“What, like it’s your fault he’s a piece of shit?” he says.

You chew on the inside of your cheek and look up to the ceiling, trying to keep your tears at bay. It’s still odd being alone with him, having him in your home.

Rafe hasn’t tried to make someone feel better in a long time. He hasn’t cared enough to. He takes a deep breath.

“I don’t mind doing this, alright?” he says.

“You don’t?” You take in the softness in his eyes that you don’t often see.

“Think I’d be here if I did?”

“I don’t know,” you say. “You used to do things you didn’t want to all the time for me.”

The Rafe that was your best friend always went along with whatever you wanted to play, wherever you wanted to go.

He grits his teeth, tearing his eyes off of you, trying not to think about how when he was a kid, if someone asked him who his favorite person was, he’d tell them that it was a tie between you and his mom.

“Don’t talk about how shit used to be,” he says quietly. And because he doesn’t want to see that hurt look on your face again, he adds, “Please.”

The mere prospect of talking about the past seems to actually give him pain. It dawns on you that you’re looking at a man who may have never processed what happened to him.

“Do you want something to eat?” you offer, changing the subject swiftly.

Rafe realizes he’s starving.

“Yeah,” he says.

A memory washes over you as Rafe sits at your kitchen counter, eating leftovers you heated up for him.

It was a humid summer day and you two were scarfing down the lunch his mother made for you after a morning of swimming behind his house.

Rafe always liked picking the wildflowers that grew in the grass that lined the beach for his mom. The ones he found that day were purple, sitting in a small vase she put in the center of the dining room table.

Every time he gave her a small bundle of uneven flowers, she had the same joyful reaction. Rafe always looked so proud of himself when she enthusiastically thanked her son.

It was just another happy day.

Until Ward came into the kitchen and like always, Rafe’s smile disappeared. Your best friend tended to shrink when his dad was around. Ward almost always found something to chide his son about. He never spoke like that to his daughters.

“Could you eat any faster?” Ward muttered. “Where are your manners?”

“Leave him alone, Ward,” Anne said with a sigh. His mother’s tone was only ever sharp when she was defending her little boy.

You remember watching her lean to kiss Rafe’s head, earning a small smile from him. Then she winked at you, trying to dismiss the tension from the room.

You wonder what Ward has said to Rafe ever since he lost the only person who stuck up for him.

You face the sink as you wash your hands, your back to Rafe, trying to stifle the tears that build as you imagine what the world would be like if the wreck never happened. Who would Rafe be if he never lost her? If a part of him didn’t die with her?

Is it crazy to think that you’d still be best friends, instead of two strangers pushed together in such an arduous situation? You miss her so much that it hurts and all this is yet another thing adding to the weight sitting on your shoulders.

Rafe hears you sniffle and when you finally turn around, you stare at the floor as you try to rush away.

“What is it?” he asks. Is he already failing at making you feel safe?

You freeze. You can’t tell him what’s really bothering you. Especially since he asked you not to talk about your memories.

“I’m just freaked out.” It’s not exactly what you’re thinking of now, but it’s true. This mess with Ty is a nightmare. “If he was really creeping around here… Ugh, I don’t know what he’s going to do next.”

Rafe chews slower as he observes you through narrow eyes. He’s no stranger to the pain of crying to sleep. He doesn’t want that for you.

You notice his hands are still trembling. You have no idea how often he does coke, but it must be an addiction if one night without it makes his body react like this.

“What else do you need?” he asks. It comes out sharper than he intended, like he’s asking what else you could possibly want from him after he’s given you so much.

Your lips thin as you stare at him from across the counter. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen someone look so miserable.

“Nothing,” you mutter. “Good night.”

You start to walk away but Rafe says your name to stop you and it sounds so good coming out of his mouth that your stomach numbs. When was the last time he said it?

You turn to look at him. His eyes dart down to his food.

“What if…” he begins, his fork loudly clattering against the dish. “Would it help if I slept in your room?”

You’re surprised. And soothed by the thought of him sleeping close by in case your ex does something as unhinged as break in.

Everyone else paints Rafe as rude and aggressive, but you knew it. You knew he still had some kindness in him.

“Yeah,” you say. “It would help.”

(part four)

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[lemonlover1110]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭

Zayne

Pairing: Zayne x f!Reader

Summary: When his son says that you're the favorite parent, all of Zayne's rules go out the door.

Warnings: Fluff

*First time writing for him and it's a dad drabble🥹 will definitely be doing an actual oneshot for him in the future

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“Liam, finish your food.” Zayne tells the three-year-old, pushing the plate towards the child. Liam pushes it away again, shaking his head in response. He’s eaten a good portion of the food, leaving behind the most important part. “You won’t grow big and strong if you don’t finish your vegetables.”

“I don’t want more.” The boy says, and Zayne sighs. How should he proceed? Zayne’s dealt with a lot in his life, though this has to be the hardest thing he’s dealt with so far. A human so small is causing him to gray earlier than usual.

“If you don’t finish, you won’t get dessert.” Zayne threatens, and it makes the child’s little eyebrows furrow. He crosses his tiny arms before claiming,

“This is why I love mommy more.”

Zayne doesn’t get hurt over trivial things. A child claiming that it has a favorite parent is something that is momentarily, and it’s often decided by which parent spoils them the most. So it shouldn’t hurt when his son says that you’re the child’s favorite parent, right?

“That’s fine. You’re still not getting dessert.” Zayne tries to play it off as if the words don’t sting. The child begins to eat his vegetables since he doesn’t want to miss out on the sweet treat. Even if he isn’t the favorite parent, he’s doing his job right.

Though things begin to change around the home, and you’re quick to notice. Zayne is more lenient, allowing Liam to get away with things that he would’ve gotten scolded for before. Many rules that had been set by Zayne have gone out the door. The child is doing just fine without the rules, but you can’t help but question your husband while you’re putting away the groceries,

“I thought you wouldn’t buy this brand of cereal for him because it’s too unhealthy.” You point out, examining the box of cereal that you hold in your hand. He hums in response.

“He pointed at it and said he wanted to try it so I got it for him.” He answers, and you furrow your brows. It’s so unlike him. You don’t know how you feel about this version of your husband, but you do miss him being overprotective over his son.

“What’s up with you?” You question, and he tries to act like this is completely normal behavior from him.

“What do you mean?” He responds, and you have to walk over to him. He’s in the middle of putting away something, and you snatch it from his hands and put it on the counter before your hands cup his face.

“Who are you and what did you do to my husband?” You watch him avert his gaze, which is a dead giveaway that something is wrong with him. “Why aren’t you being overprotective of Liam?”

“He said he loves you more.” He admits, and it makes you want to laugh, but you hold it back. It melts your heart to see just how much Zayne values his son’s opinion, but he should know that he shouldn’t take everything to heart. “ Maybe I’m doing too much, and I don’t want him to hate me.”

“Liam, come here, honey!” You yell, and while you wait for the three year old to make his way to the kitchen, you inform Zayne of a crucial detail, “I scolded him earlier for something.”

“What?” Liam asks as he enters the kitchen. You let go of Zayne and look at your son.

“Who do you love more, mommy or daddy?” You question, and the child looks back and forth between you and Zayne. And just as you predicted, he points to Zayne.

“Daddy isn’t mean.” Liam tells you, obviously still mad about what you did earlier. You roll your eyes while Zayne sheepishly smiles. And he really let his son’s words affect him this much?

“Why are you smiling?” You don’t even have to look back at Zayne to know that he is. He lets out a chuckle, relieved to know that Liam doesn’t actually have a favorite parent.

“Sorry, my love.” Zayne kisses your temple before reaching for the cereal that he just bought, and throwing it in the trash. He won’t be needing that anymore. “I have to clean out the pantry as well.” 

You walk over to the pantry to see what he means, and your eyes widen at the amount of junk food that he bought to please his son. You can’t help but laugh, noticing the lengths your husband will go to make sure that he’s the favorite parent.

[gay-dorito-dust]

You may request A batboys reacting to the death of the reader

First time writing for Tim, so he’s probs ooc in this one.

Dick feels as though he’s failed you.

He tries to act like he was fine but he was far from it and everyone knew it as they stepped on eggshells with him during this time.

Dick would often find himself sat on the very rooftops where he’d take you on countless dates or just to star gaze and talk as though you were still with him.

It was his own way of comforting himself with your loss but that was never enough to stop the tears that fell from his eyes when he spotted a bright star he’s never seen before until now, and laughs humourlessly.

‘I see you’ve finally made your way amongst the stars huh sweetheart?’ He’d say as your star would twinkle in response, making him chuckle. ‘You’re so beautiful, the brightest of your kind.’ He adds sombrely as he wipes his eyes with the back of his hand as he felt his heart sing out for you, only to receive nothing in return.

Reality was often disappointing but with you it was a fairy tale.

Waking up to you was a dream within itself and getting to do mundane things with you before heading off to work was something that could only exist in a daydream.

He knew Hayley misses you as badly as he does with how he’d hear the poor dog whine and whimper at the door, as if waiting for you to walk through it and tackle her with kisses and love like you always did, only to get nothing for hours.

‘I know, I miss them too.’ He says against Hayley’s fur as she whimpers and whines at the door. ‘I miss them so fucking much it hurts.’ He adds as he allows himself to mourn for you alongside his dog long into the night.

Jason blames himself for not being fast enough or strong enough to keep you protected and safe.

The apartment you once shared with him that only recently had started to feel like home to him now felt cold and haunted with the ghost of you, so much so to the point he avoids it at all cost.

Nothing felt right without you, everything felt wrong and unjustified that he became more ruthless then before on patrols just to let off some steam and would come back from them more beaten and bruised then normal.

He didn’t care, he couldn’t feel anything anymore with how numb he became after loosing you.

Dick and Roy would stop by to see how he was doing but each visit was the same with Jason refusing his older brother and best friend entry as he held one of your plushies tightly against his chest. He knows they mean well but he just couldn’t find it within himself to hear the same thing he’s heard from everyone else; It just felt disingenuous after a while and didn’t feel as though people truly understood the impact that you had on him throughout your time together.

Jason would become more destructive with himself and going headfirst into danger without a second thought and damns his teammates for dragging him out by the scruff of his neck as he fights and kicks out of their hold. He doesn’t want to be saved! He just wanted to be with you again, why couldn’t they see that?!

After loosing you Jason becomes more prone to angry outbursts and often lets them out on the wrong person but he couldn’t care less at this point, his favourite person was gone and he was left back where he was before you.

Lost and deeply afraid.

Tim would retreat from everyone and everything by cooping himself into his room, rarely to come out.

He’d rather rot in his bed and on his phone, looking through all the photos you’ve taken together and seeing just how happy you both were, all the while a pit in his stomach grew at the thought of all the plans you’ve made but would never get to do.

He hated how easily he gave you his heart and hated it even more at just how easy it was to loose you that he wishes that he could stop himself from meeting you for the first time, just so he could selfishly save himself from the best moments of his life and the inevitable heartbreak he’d soon suffer.

Tim would do anything in his power to get you back but knew that it just wasn’t possible.

He knew Jason was given life by the Lazarus pit but he wasn’t willing to subject you to that even if he was held at gunpoint. He’d rather you rest in peace than force you to live with the knowledge that you should technically be dead.

Tim would remain in his room, wondering about the what ifs and the what could’ve beens if you hadn’t died. Would someone have taken your place? Was your death an unchangeable fixed point in time that was meant to happen?

He would only be reunited with you in his dreams where he has saved you and you had gotten to live out the rest of your life happily, rather then left for dead in an alleyway not too far from the place where you were originally going to meet up for date night.

Damian dedicated his life to getting revenge.

He had lost the light in his life, so why should he think his adversaries should live when you weren’t even given the option?

There will be more bodies pilling up on the streets of Gotham at a faster rate than normal whenever Damian is on patrol, much to Bruce’s dismay.

His anger and grief was all consuming and that left little to no room for logic to make him stop and see what he was doing was no better than the thing that took you away.

Life was black and white for a long time for Damian and you were the colour.

You were the air he breathed and without you he was gasping.

He knew about the Lazarus pit in his grandfather’s possession and its mythical properties and how it gave Jason a second chance at life. However he was at a cross roads on using it for his own selfish gain, on one hand he could have you back and everything would be fine again, but on the other hand you wouldn’t be the version of you he fell in love with…

Damian didn’t know what to do. The grief, the anger, the sadness…it was all too much for him. He felt as though he apart of him was missing and he would never get it back, it just wasn’t possible.

Bruce feels as though nothing has changed since his parents death.

He may be older, faster, stronger and wiser but that didn’t mean nothing in the face of death, and your death only proved that to be true as he held you in his arms, holding you close to his chest as he quietly sobs into your cold neck.

Much like Tim, Bruce doesn’t take care of himself anymore and it was up to Alfred to make sure that he doesn’t keep over and die unexpectedly.

‘They wouldn’t want this for you sir.’ Alfred would say as Bruce slams his hands down on the surface of his desk. ‘And what would you know that they want for me Alfred, y/n’s dead and it’s my fault.’ He would bark and bare his teeth at the only father figure he had in his life, a father figure whom has seen this expression bore on the young master’s face more times then he could count, but it still hurt him to see Bruce in pain and heartbreak.

‘They would want you to take care of yourself, sleep proper hours, eat full meals, shower, reach out to anyone,’ Alfred began to walk towards Bruce and place a hand on his shoulder, where he could practically feel the unbridled anger and pain radiation through him that he kept under control. ‘They wouldn’t want you to wallow in pain alone, Gotham needs you.’

‘And I needed them.’ Bruce replied sharply, aggressively wiping his eyes with his hand as he looks over at a framed picture of you that he always kept nearby. ‘All I wanted was them.’ He adds softly this time as he looks at Alfred, lost and confused at what to do now that his anchor was gone. ‘I miss them so much Alfred.’

Alfred brings Bruce into his arms, much like he did when he lost his parents, when he lost Jason and now you, allowing him to burrow his face into the Butler’s shoulder and softly sob into the fabric. Alfred felt his heart break even more as he rubbed Bruce’s back in an attempt of bringing him comfort. ‘I know master Bruce, I know, but you’d be doing their memory a great disservice by destroying yourself.’ The older man started as he looked over at the framed picture of you and smiled soberly, you were a beacon to Bruce and Alfred wasn’t afraid to say that he viewed you as his in law with how happy you made Bruce and that was all Alfred could ever want for him.

Now that you were gone, Alfred couldn’t help but feel that the manor got just that little bit lonelier without you.

[the-travelling-witch]

summary: just some small hand holding headcanons ♡

pairings: katsuki :: hawks :: shouto :: deku x gn! reader

miscellaneous masterlist (i really need to give bnha it's own ml soon, i will infiltrate this fandom /silly)

update: i made a bnha masterlist

katsuki likes intertwining your fingers. at the start of your relationship, he was hesitant to do so, afraid he could accidentally hurt you with his quirk or scare you off with how hot and rough they are (not that he ever told you as much). so when you slowly warmed him up to the idea, he held your hand very carefully at first.

by now, however, his grip on you is firm and self-assured, pulling you closer to him in crowded areas or just enjoying the feel of your hand in his calloused one. the pro hero has also resigned himself to being your own personal hand warmer in the winter, cupping your freezing fingers between his palms with only minimal complaining.

keigo likes playing with your hands. whether you’re watching a movie on a rare night in or you’re in a restaurant with your hands resting on the table, chances are keigo is reaching over to cradle your hand in his, a boyish grin on his handsome face.

sometimes it’s really just him fiddling with your fingers to keep his own busy. but in instances where it’s just the two of you, he’s tracing his thumb along the length of your fingers and mapping the lines on your palms, culminating in the featherlight kisses he flutters against your knuckles and wrist.

shouto likes linking your pinkies. sure, he’s much more confident in your relationship than at the beginning, where he’d basically wait for you to initiate affection for him to know this was okay. back then, it was his way of asking for affection in whatever way you would see fit to show him at the moment.

but even after learning more about both you and himself, as well as the social norms around dating, he has taken a liking to the gesture. it is sweet and low-key enough to not draw much attention if you’re out and about, but still a good way to ground himself and make sure you’re still there with him.

izuku likes it when you play with his hands. even as an adult he still has the habit of losing himself in his rambled tangents at times and taking his hand in yours is an effective way of snapping him out of it.

the gentle way with which you hold him, like he was a delicate thing, lifts the responsibilities of always putting other’s well-being before his own right off his shoulders. deku is too flustered to ever say it out loud but, when you lovingly trace and kiss the scars on his hands instead of looking at them as if they’re a flaw, his ears and cheeks feel like they’ve been set ablaze.

© the-travelling-witch 2024 - do not repost, translate, copy or edit; do not copy into an ai

if you like my content, reblogs, comments and asks are always much appreciated ♡

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[goldenroutledge]

never say goodbye

pairing: daniel ricciardo x reader

word count: 2.3k

summary: you remind daniel of who he is when he needs it most.

warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, swearing but a happy ending (i tried)

a/n: self-indulgent to unbreak my heart a little bit. [edit] it’s now been confirmed that he’s leaving. the void will never be filled. there will never be another danny ric :,)

i listened to michael giacchino’s bundle of joy from inside out while writing this. if i could put my feelings into music, it would be this <3

daniel ricciardo masterlist

Your heart aches seeing the expression on Daniel’s face; painstakingly bittersweet in showing his signature smile even when it kills him. It gives you at least a little comfort knowing that no matter what happens, nobody will take that away from him. As he recounts his time in Formula 1 in the interview, it is clear that his journey here has not only been a mere time in his life but it is a part of his being. The ebbs and flows, the triumphs and defeats he’s experienced over the last decade condensed into a few short yet symbolic sentences.

This might be the least talkative anyone has ever seen Daniel Ricciardo, who's otherwise radiating relentless positivity to a point that is undeniable. You know that’s still alive in him somewhere underneath it all. Maybe that’s part of why it hurts so much, he is someone so undeserving of such treatment, to be dismissed this way. Everyone can feel it, and even under the night sky of Singapore, the paddock is enclosed in its own bubble. When the bright lights go down and the noise turns to silence, you can only imagine how he’ll be when it’s just the two of you again, knowing that those with the brightest smiles hold in the heaviest tears.

It’s impossible to miss the solemn glances toward him or the way the interviewer’s eyes match the look in Daniel’s, searching in the dark for an end to this nightmare. Even from afar you can see the way he’s holding back tears, choosing his words carefully to keep the dam from breaking just a little bit longer. He musters a smile and a nod at the end of his interview trying to convey that it's going to be okay, he is going to be okay.

Before you know it he’s making his way back to the team’s hospitality. Claps and cheers interrupt your thoughts, and you glance around to see his team members and friends now surrounding you near the entrance. It’s hard for everyone to see him this way but they also can’t help but be astounded at the way his head is still held high. He thanks each and every one of them with gratitude, before locking eyes with you at the very end.

Unexpectedly, your eyes are filled with tears at the sight of him. A quiet sob leaves your lips as he scoops you into his arms, swaying you both soothingly. “I’m sorry.” You whisper, barely loud enough for him to hear and for reasons you can’t quite explain. I’m sorry I can’t keep it together. I’m sorry you have to be so strong. I’m sorry this is happening to you.

Daniel knows everything you mean by that, and feels his throat swell up, pressing a long kiss to your cheek instead. You squeeze your eyes shut, letting yourself take in his embrace for a few moments before it’s over. A few tears fall down your cheek and you’re not sure who they belong to.

After a deep breath you pull away from him, returning a kiss to his cheek along with a proper smile of reassurance. As deeply as you feel for him right now, you feel just as much of a responsibility to make sure he’s taken care of.

“Meet you at the hotel after your debriefs?”

Daniel nods, eyes solemn as they drift behind you into the hospitality suite. He sighs, knowing what’s ahead of him. You figure it would be nice to give him a little time to himself, to stitch up his remaining wounds and take in what could be his last moments as a Formula 1 driver. To say a sudden goodbye to this paddock, his second home for the last 13 years, and to say goodbye to all of those that have been beside him, who have become a second family over those 13 years.

“Yeah, I’ll see you soon.”

Daniel gives you one last smile of reassurance, knowing that no matter how many times he tells you he’s okay, you won’t believe him. He pecks your lips softly, walking inside and waving to you from behind the glass door. You wave back, still struck with emotion, feeling like a parent sending their child into their first day of school. Instead of the moment being a new beginning that’s filled with hope and joy, it’s a moment of bittersweet ending filled with sorrow and sadness.

You can only hope that whatever’s waiting for him on the other side of this, he’s happy. You make a promise to yourself that you’ll be there through all of the grief and the restlessness it will take for him to get there.

-

Back at the hotel, you sit quietly for a while, gathering your thoughts. It certainly wouldn’t be in your best interest to scroll through the endless articles and videos of a heartbroken Daniel giving interviews. Though seeing him secure both the fastest lap and driver of the day makes you smile. P1 or P18, he is beloved by everyone inside of the paddock and out. He infects others with a unique energy that can’t be replicated. One could only dream to help him truly understand that.

The unzipped suitcases in your hotel room were taunting, as if they could know how badly you didn’t want this to be the last time you both have to pack up and leave a race weekend. But the thought of Daniel coming back and having to do all of this himself was even more painful. Begrudgingly, you began to organize the contents of your luggage.

Underneath one of Daniel’s hoodies were a collection of bracelets and trinkets from fans given to him over the last two weeks. Yet another reminder of something he’d be saying goodbye to. These gifts weren’t simply material things. They were symbols of the love and adoration people had for Daniel. They were a representation of the inspiration he gave to so many around the world. And not only to them, but to his friends, his family members, and to you.

This moment felt like deja vu as you vividly witnessed him say goodbye once before when his time ended at McLaren. And then the spark of hope began to glow brighter once again when he was welcomed back to Red Bull as a reserve driver, and then as a driver for RB.

It was a journey you’d been capturing for quite some time now on your own camera, moments that you weren’t ready for Daniel to see just yet. Of course the end of his career was bound to come, but you believed you’d have more time and you’d have more experiences turned memories for him to look back on. You find the camera in your handbag before gathering your laptop and USB. If now wasn’t the right time, you didn’t know when it would be. The clock tells you that you only have a couple hours, maybe more depending on how long he spends at the track. Thanks to the extra surge of emotions you’d been feeling tonight, the memories from your camera and a video production class you took in school many years ago, you’re able to pour it all into a little gift for him.

-

After watching it once through, you uploaded it onto a spare flashdrive. Luckily you had one that would’ve otherwise been used to store photos for daniel3.jpg.

You barely noticed that hours had gone by, the clock now reading 1:46am. Your heart breaks for Daniel. Despite being apart from him you know how he must be feeling. Yet above it all, you knew he’d be leaving with a smile.

-

The door clicks open.

Exhausted, Daniel drags his feet inside. He’s relieved to see you stayed awake for him. There’s nobody he’d rather be alone with right now. Without a word, he relaxes into your arms that are open and waiting for him, and his for you.

Unsure of how to start the conversation, you decide that you should let the video you made for him speak for itself. You hold him for as long as he needs, feeling his breathing steady into a calm rhythm.

“I have a surprise for you.”

“Is it underneath this hoodie?” He teases suggestively, lips curling into a smile. He tugs at the bottom of the fabric to emphasize his point.

“Later.” You quip, taking his arm and patting a spot for him to sit next to you.

He looks utterly confused yet intrigued when you hand him a flashdrive, but puts it into the laptop anyway. “What is this?”

“You’ll see.”

Daniel clicks the play button on the black screen. The sounds of soft piano music is the first thing he hears before a picture of himself as a child illuminates the screen.

The voice of an interviewer plays over it, asking: “What would you tell your younger self?”

“Enjoy the butterflies, enjoy being naive, enjoy the nerves, the pressure, people not knowing your name… all that stuff. Enjoy the process of making a name for yourself, getting faster and faster with each lap, and meeting some great people along the way. Embrace the good ones, stay focused.”

A collection of pictures plays in sync with the audio of Daniel from his youth to now, edited in a perfect sequence. The clips show his best moments; his podiums, his shoeys, his radio messages, his laughs shared with fellow drivers, him riding into the Austin Grand Prix on Horsey McHorse, his fans cheering as he walks through Albert Park, hugging his niece before a race.

“You got to the dance in the first place doing what you do so don’t change too much. Don’t forget what got you here. Earn the parties, earn the drinks. Bring friends along, bring family along, don’t assume they’ll be a distraction, they might be something to take the weight off your shoulders on a race weekend, they’re also people to enjoy the moment with and to celebrate with, so don’t be afraid to surround yourself with people you care about and love.” The clips showed moments in the paddock with his fans, friends, family, and with you, always cheering for him.

The video shows him again, smiling wide as he reflects on some of the best lessons this life has shown him. “So, yeah. Get after it.”

Soft piano notes play once again, detailing ambivalent sounds that are yearning and wishful but also bring solace. Daniel is focused on the screen, so much so that he doesn’t pay attention to the tears that have started streaming down his face. In his eyes is love and gratitude for the journey he’s been on, and to you for reminding him of it in such a meaningful way. Your head rests on his shoulder carefully and you’re anxious to know what he’s thinking.

“You made that for me?”

“Mhm. I’ve been wanting to do something like this for you, I just didn’t know when it would be a good time to show you.”

“I guess there’s no better time than now, right?” Daniel mumbles, looking at you with admiration.

“I know you’ve been unsure of yourself for a while. And as much as I want to, there’s nothing I can do to change that. I don't always know what to say, so I thought, there’s no one better to tell you who you are than you.”

You take his face in your hands, gently brushing away any spare tears.

“But what I can tell you Daniel, is that I love you. I know you don’t want to be sad because you think you’ll be letting everyone down, but you could never let me down. You can be happy or sad or angry, you can shatter these lamps on the floor if you need to and I won’t be disappointed. If you let me, I’ll help you pick up the pieces. Whenever you feel alone, just remember you have me.”

Daniel can’t deny the way his heart warms at your words, an abundance of love and sincerity behind them. He tilts his head, pressing kisses to each of your wrists. “I love you, too. Even if I don’t deserve you.”

You scoff, harmlessly nudging him in response. “Shut up, they don’t deserve you. Fuck them all. That’s why I did that, to show you that there’s actually no one more deserving than you.”

“Yeah. Fuck ‘em all.” Daniel chuckles, looking down to hide the blush on his cheeks. You both sit there in a comforting silence, happy to be hidden away from the outside world for the night. With both of your busy schedules keeping you apart, times like these are especially important. There’s nobody you’d rather come home to, there’s nobody else that feels like a safe haven away from the cruel world that’s now turned its back on him.

“I can’t thank you enough, honey. I love you. I don’t know what the future holds… but I promise I’ll never take you for granted. How you always stick beside me, I’ll never know. It might be the end of an era in my career but I could never forget that I have you. You have me, too. When it comes to this,” Daniel gestures between the two of you, “I wouldn’t even know how to say goodbye.”

“And you won’t have to. We’ll never say goodbye.”

Your eyes twinkle and you press your lips to his, kissing him with a passion that can’t be put into words. Perhaps he didn’t get the fairytale ending he wanted and deserved in his career, but what he has here with you could easily pass as a fairytale of its own kind. It's what allows you both to sleep peacefully, knowing that whatever lies ahead, the only goodbye you won’t have to make is to each other.

a/n: comments, reblogs, and feedback is greatly appreciated! stay strong dr3 nation 💌

[spicyhamsamson]

I am. So fucking tired of Batman being portrayed as a bad parent and a toxic person. And it’s so goddamn widespread. Fuck, it might be as bad as the whole “Superman being a kindhearted Boy Scout is boring” take.

I get it, the man’s not exactly stable, he watched his parents get murdered in front of him and spent years of his life training to fight crime dressed like a giant scary bat, of course he’s not perfect.

But to say that Bruce Wayne isn’t caring, isn’t empathetic, to call him abusive…it just misses the point of who the character is to me.

Why do you think he fights crime? Yes, part of it is because he’s bitter and sad because his parents were cruelly ripped from him as a child, and he’s lashing out against the corruption of his city. It’s arguably the focus of his earlier years. But he learns to become more than that. He learns to bring hope, a chance to be better.

Harleen Quinzel is the Joker’s right hand lady, but she’s also a victim of an abusive relationship and a woman with a surprisingly strong moral compass and a love for animals, and wants to get better. That’s why we see time and time again that he has a noticeable soft spot for her, because he knows that she’s a good person at her core.

Harvey Dent is a man who will decide someone’s fate on a coin toss(and a pretty inaccurate depiction of DID), but he’s also Bruce’s close friend who clearly needs help learning to live with his condition, rather than try to get rid of it, and someone who he still goes out of his way to visit, even after everything, because he recognizes he’s not just a criminal with a weird gimmick, he’s a man who is struggling with a condition that he’s mishandled his whole life.

Victor Fries is a cold, emotionless man who will callously discard allies and blame them for being careless, but he’s also a man who’s either lashing out because he had the love of his life taken from him, or just desperate to make sure she isn’t taken from him, and is willing to do anything just to guarantee her survival. Of course Batman would understand, his whole life was defined by having people he loved taken away from him.

Even the Joker, arguably one of the most morally bankrupt characters in all of fiction, is someone that Batman has offered a chance to. After the guy shoots the daughter of his friend, a girl he cared for like she was his own kid, and paralyzes her from the waist down, he tells the Joker that he doesn’t want to hurt him. He wants to get him help. He looks at this monster who has taken countless lives and says “You don’t have to be alone.”

For fuck’s sake, he sat with Joe Chill in his last moments so that he wouldn’t be alone. Joe Chill, the man who murdered his parents, who took so much from him, the person responsible for all of the misery and suffering he’s gone through. And he sits with the man to comfort him while dies. Do you know how much emotional intelligence and maturity that must take? To comfort someone who arguably ruined your life?

And you’re gonna tell me the man who did that would abuse his kids?

That he’d hold up the young man whose death was his greatest failure, the boy he grieved, and say this?

That he’d look his goddamn son in the eyes and say this to him?

Why the FUCK do you think he took in Dick Grayson in the first place? It wasn’t because he saw the kid and thought “Ah. A potential soldier.”, it was because he saw a boy experiencing the same heartbreaking loss he had so many years ago, and wanted to make sure he didn’t end up as bitter and miserable as he was.

Why do you think he smiled when Tim Drake presented him a broken watch for Father’s Day? Because he was just happy to see the boy alive and safe.

DAMIAN LITERALLY POINTED AT A COW AND SAID “I’m keeping her. She’s Bat-Cow.” AND BRUCE JUST WENT WITH IT. DIDN’T EVEN NEED TO ARGUE WHY BRUCE SHOULD LET HIM KEEP HER. HE SAID “this cow is my pet now” AND BRUCE SAID “aight, bet”.

The thing about Batman is that he wants to make sure nobody else ends up feeling the way he does. That’s not just about stopping a mugger so a boy’s parents aren’t gunned down. It’s about giving his loved ones the support and care that he couldn’t have, because it was taken from him. It’s about comforting someone who just went through a traumatic experience and letting them know that they’re going to be okay. It’s about going to someone locked away in a cell who thinks that they’re a lost cause and a burden to society and telling them that he wants to help them get better. It’s about EMPATHY and COMPASSION.

That’s what makes him a HERO. He’s meant to inspire us, to show us that we can have that same empathy for others around us, that we can turn our suffering into hope for a better future.

I just wish more people at DC would start recognizing that. But I might as well follow that example myself. Maybe through this struggle of having to see this hero mistreat the people around him and act like a grade-A jackass, people will start to recognize that missing compassion, and slowly but surely, it might come back. After all, what is this post, if not trying to bring attention to the matter in the hopes of fixing it?

[theprettyarachnid]

dating logan howlett would include

a/n: i’m lowkey on a roll yall

warning: nsfw themes

🕷️ you’re probably one of the only ones who have seen logan’s soft side

🕷️ he almost begs you not to sleep in the same bed with him because of his nightmares but you won’t hear it

🕷️ in fact you’ve been able to calm him down sometimes, caressing his face and tracing his jaw line

🕷️ he’s still scared he might hurt you by accident though no matter how many times you’ve told him that you have regenerative abilities too

🕷️ logan loves when you wear his shirts to sleep and because it’s practically a short night gown, he still has a view of your ass

🕷️ you cut his hair because he doesn’t like the way a regular barber does it

🕷️ you’ve tried to convince him to watch your romance shows but when he does he always falls asleep

🕷️ logan snores a lot in his sleep

🕷️ he doesn’t like celebrating his birthday because it’s ‘just another day’ but it’s clear that he appreciates the effort you put into it

🕷️ you got him a dog for his birthday because you knew he wanted one and he hasn’t let it out of his sight since

🕷️ you got him one of those wolf/dog hybrids

🕷️ logan has a pretty high sex drive so it’s not unusual to wake up with him in between your legs

🕷️ claims that he smelled your arousal

🕷️ claw marks on your thighs while he’s eating you out and when you pull on his hair, he’ll moan almost sounding animalistic

🕷️ he takes you out on dates regularly and if you tease him about it he’ll give a gruff response of “it’s how any woman should be treated, especially you”

🕷️ sometimes logan doesn’t understand why you want to be with him but eventually he’s just stopped asking that question

🕷️ holds your hand when you two go on walks with the dog

🕷️ and just in general

🕷️ if you’re a plant person, i feel like logan would be terrible at taking care of them

🕷️ he just doesn’t have a green thumb so instead you get him a fake plant

🕷️ he laughs and calls it stupid but he actually loves it because it reminds him of you

🕷️ whenever logan wears his glasses, you can’t help but find it extra attractive and he knows this

🕷️ whenever you do or say something stupid, he flicks you on the forehead

🕷️ logan is very protective of you and you can see it in pretty much all of his actions

🕷️ his hugs are extra tight and his grip around your waist gets tighter whenever another man looks at you

🕷️ he kisses you like it’s the last time he’ll ever see you, especially when he has to go on missions, and it’s because he truly believes it may be the last

🕷️ logan sometimes hates that you chose him to be with because everyone he has ever cared for or known has gone through traumatic events and in some cases have died

🕷️ this is why you can’t take him pushing you away sometimes to heart because you know it’s because he thinks it’s better that way

🕷️ logan gives me warm body vibes so whenever you’re cold, you can snuggle up to him and he’ll warm you right up

🕷️ hates when you put your cold hands or feet on his bare back

🕷️ logan loves when you make him coffee or cook for him

🕷️ he likes his coffee black

🕷️ enjoys watching horror movies with you because you’re snuggled up in a blanket shared between you two and leaning up against his chest

🕷️ moments like that make him feel very at ease

[itgetsbetterproject]

On Trans Day of Remembrance, we honor the memory of those lost to anti-trans violence. We also asked our It Gets Better community what trans youth should remember, right here and right now. Here's what they said:

🏳️‍⚧️ "For my trans daughters and for every other trans person out there, You are perfect, perfectly perfect right now, in this messy moment, in this happy moment, in whatever moment comes next. You are loved by people you haven't even met yet. Do not get caught up in the hurt when there is so much joy to be found, do not let the noise hold you back, you are meant for greatness. For some greatness means waking up and having breakfast, going for a walk, doodling or thinking happy thoughts and that all in itself is great. Please believe me you are not alone." -lisasevajian

🏳️‍⚧️ "70 million people voted to protect your rights. You are valued. You are loved. Do not give up." -thethestralsociety

🏳️‍⚧️ "We have always been here, and we're not going anywhere anytime soon." -beansonofficial

🏳️‍⚧️ "You're seen. You're human. You are loved. You are not alone. Do not give up hope. You deserve all the best things in life and you should get to live them without fear, hate, guilt, harm, or silence." - destiny_d_melton

🏳️‍⚧️ "You are not alone even when it might feel that way. Things are hard and it can be so scary. But know that there are people who truly care who are fighting for you." -heatherand2girls

🏳️‍⚧️ "It gets better. Don’t give up. Gather the people you trust and support each other. You are a gift, you have a gift. Shine your light proudly and brightly. But know that you don’t need to. You are not responsible to change others perceptions or beliefs. You are loved, needed, and necessary." -michaeljohncreative

🏳️‍⚧️ "I love you so much and I will never cast you aside. You are NOT expendable." -fitnessvalkyrie

🏳️‍⚧️ "There is community out there for you always. Don't ever give up, we are here fighting with you." -transaffirmidaho

🏳️‍⚧️ "You only legally have to live with your bio family until you are 18, and then you can go make your own family. Also, high school only lasts 4 years. You can get through it!! It will be okay." -lisathecatdude

🏳️‍⚧️ "Keep going! As trans youth, we need to grow to be elders and to keep sharing our stories and to keep going!" -archer.39

🏳️‍⚧️ "Even in red states, you can find support and allies. We do care. Also, if you’re overwhelmed, it’s okay to focus on the community you feel safe with and take a mental break from advocating." - katseye325

🏳️‍⚧️ "We need you alive! You are our future. I made it to 29. You can be 29. My therapist is almost 60. You can be 60. Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness are our rights! You are seen, valued, heard, and loved." -Mr. Trans Indiana

🏳️‍⚧️ "Half this country still voted to support your rights! There are some loud voices spreading hate, but there’s so much more love out there. You have so much worth and value just being who you are. We’ll get through this and things will get better." -lady_hades_xiii

🏳️‍⚧️ "It will be worth it. All your struggle, all your pain. You’re going to get through this. It’s gonna be okay." -madd.0xx_

🏳️‍⚧️ "You are already role models to your peers, and to all the trans youth that come after you. You are the generation that will change the world, you already are the change the world needs…and your trans-aunty will always be here to support you, as my trans role models did for me. We are a family; dynamic, diverse, and inclusive: welcome to the family." -mxashleys

Read more and add your own here.