#he didn’t make her come but he is keeping her away from the rest of her family

[pathologicalreid]

hiii I love ur fics <3 I am OBSESSED with the prompt “can you come get me?” bc h/c makes me 💥💥💥 so I was thinking:

reader has been kidnapped by the latest unsub and the team is trying their hardest to find her but all the leads keep coming up empty until one day Spencer gets a call from her and the first thing she says is “can you come get me?” she sounds extremely upset and afraid so Spencer and Hotch leave to go find her. when they get there, she looks like she’s been through hell so they rush her to the hospital to be checked out, all the while they can’t seem to get any info out of her about what happened.

Spencer & reader could be platonic or romantic, whichever you like. (also I was thinking maybe hotchner!reader ? if that wouldn’t be too many things to ask for lol)

I love how you do angst and h/c, so keep up the good work and have a wonderful day <3

can you come get me? | S.R.

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: kidnapping, hospitals, stitches, blood draws, catatonia, disassociation, brief mention of sa, ohio mentioned, general cm violence (let me know if i missed any) word count: 4.56k a/n: i have no idea how this got so long but i love the plot of it so much that i couldn't cut any of it! i'm such a slut for the "you came"/"you called" trope that i couldn't help myself! i wrote this with the idea that it would be in place of the m*eve storyline (which means our lord and savior blake is here)!! anyways anon i hope you enjoy this - i love you!

Any external sound was completely ignored as Spencer flipped through the same file for the eighteenth time that day. In his periphery, he saw JJ and Rossi nod at each other before Rossi split away, walking up the ramp to where Hotch’s office was.

It took him a moment to realize JJ had made herself comfortable by sitting on the edge of his desk. She had her jacket neatly folded in her arms as she eyed the file he had, grief filling her eyes as she registered what he was looking at. “What are you doing tonight?” She asked, trying to keep her voice as light as possible.

The question was entirely pointless, she knew exactly what he was doing tonight, but in an attempt to get her to leave him alone, Spencer humored her, “I’m working late tonight,” he answered simply.

JJ’s smile faltered ever so slightly before she shook her head, “You’ve been working late all week, what if you come over tonight? Will’s making dinner. Garcia’s coming after she finishes her system update,” the attempt to get him out of the office didn’t go over his head, but it wasn’t going to work. “Henry would love to see you – maybe you could teach him a new magic trick.”

Peeling his eyes off of the paperwork, he looked up at the blonde, “You know I can’t.” He felt so close to an answer, he couldn’t possibly leave.

“Look, Reid, I get it, but you’ve been working crazy hours for the past month. Maybe taking a night off would be good. You can start fresh in the morning,” she tried to coax him into leaving the case be.

It hadn’t been a full month; it had been twenty-seven days. Almost four full weeks since you were taken. It had been one week since Section Chief Cruz had told Hotch that the BAU needed to start taking new cases, as the trail to you had run cold.

Considering you were Hotch’s daughter, that discussion had gone rather poorly. Cruz had been able to give the team leeway. Both Spencer and Hotch had fully intended on taking advantage of that leeway, and the rest of the team helped when they had the capacity.

Turning back to your file, Spencer shook his head, “I’ll go if Hotch goes.” He knew there was no way Hotch would be leaving the office tonight, the only reason Hotch went home anymore was for Jack, and he was at a sleepover tonight.

JJ’s shoulders slumped in abject disappointment as her eyes followed Dave as he exited Hotch’s office, the slamming of the door enough to make the lingering BAU agents flinch. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said, defeated.

Rossi wagged a finger at Spencer, “Go home at some point tonight, kid,” he instructed.

Waving a quick goodbye, Spencer resumed making notes in the margins of the papers that were making a permanent home on his desk. He looked up when Hotch exited his office, eyes following him as he brewed a pot of coffee in the kitchenette. The two of them acknowledged each other with a nod before continuing on with the hunt.

Both of them knew the odds, that you had been gone this long and there was a good chance that they’d never see you again. Despite that, Spencer would head up to Hotch’s office in about an hour, and the two of them would confer.

Eventually, the sun set, and a thunderstorm rolled in, the flashes of light coming in through the windows as he began to consider going for another cup of coffee.

Wiping a hand down his face, he inwardly groaned as his phone started to ring. Half expecting it to be JJ, he was surprised to find that it was an unknown caller. Clicking the answer button, he lifted the phone to his ear, “Hello, this is Dr. Reid.”

There was an eerie silence on the other end of the call, if he strained his ears, he could hear the pattering of rain. He tried to greet the other person again, but when there was no answer, he started to lower the phone to hang up.

“Can you come get me?” Your quiet voice came through the receiver, effectively knocking the wind out of Spencer’s lungs.

Fiddling with his belongings, Spencer gripped your file, “Where are you?” He asked urgently.

You sniffled, “I don’t know. A payphone off of twenty-eight.” If he strained his ears, he could listen to the rain. Spencer wondered if he could calculate how far away you were by the sound of the thunder where you were compared to where he was.

His chest ached at the exhaustion in your tone, imagining you had gotten approximately as much sleep as he had recently. That is to say, little to none. Pulling the phone slightly away from his face, he called out for Hotch, getting his attention and waving him over. “Y/N, can you see any mile markers or exit signs anywhere?” Spencer asked, bringing the phone back up to his ear.

“I can’t see much of anything,” you admitted. That made sense, your glasses had been recovered at your abduction scene. Spencer kept them in his bag with the rest of your belongings that had been released from evidence. “I feel lucky enough that I was able to find a pay phone,” you said, and for the first time, he noticed that you were whispering.

Glancing at the inside of his wrist, Spencer checked the time. JJ had mentioned something about Garcia staying in her office for a system update – what were the odds the tech analyst was still there? Stalking out of the bullpen, he made his way to her office, Hotch hot on his heels.

After knocking on the door, her voice rang out, “Enter, mere mortal.” Once she had recognized who it was, she greeted Spencer directly, “Ah, Dr. Reid, did you need a ride to JJ’s?”

“Can you locate a payphone based on the phone number?” He asked hurriedly, the longer you stood out there in the rain, the more danger you might be in.

A confused look was plastered on her face, but she turned back to her screens and started click-clacking away. “Most def, boy genius. Run me the digits,” she responded, pulling up some sort of database that Spencer didn’t recognize – probably for the best.

She typed the phone number just as quickly as he recited it, turning around and telling him that the pay phone in question was approximately thirty minutes away. You had only been thirty minutes away this entire time. “Send the coordinates to Hotch’s phone,” Spencer instructed, stepping toward the door. “Tell the rest of the team to come in,” he continued, “it’s Y/N.”

Each stage of grief flashed across Penelope’s face as she nodded assuredly, scrambling for her phone as she took care of notifications.

Impatiently, Hotch held the elevator door open as Spencer entered, keeping the phone up to his ear, “Stay on the phone,” he told you.

A desperate whimper came from your end of the call, “I don’t have any change. I found a few quarters on the ground, but I don’t have anything on me.”

“Stay on as long as you can, angel,” Spencer amended. “We’re on our way.”

The rain was worse than he had initially thought, but Mother Nature was no match for Aaron Hotchner. They were only about five minutes from the coordinates that Garcia had shared, and the phone call had dropped off before they were even on the main highway. The dropped call certainly didn’t help the rising tension in the SUV.

“Did she sound scared?” Hotch had asked for the nth time.

Not taking his eyes off of the map, Spencer nodded, “She sounded like she was stranded in the middle of the woods in Virginia, in a thunderstorm, and was using a pay phone as a lifeline.” His entire body was thrumming with nervous energy as they sped down the road, “but she’s alive.”

He didn’t miss the way Hotch’s knuckles turned white as he gripped the steering wheel. You being alive would have to be enough of a comfort to the both of them for now, but Spencer knew what your life meant to your father.

“There it is,” Spencer said, interrupting his thoughts with the recognition of a phone booth on the side of the road, in front of a seemingly abandoned gas station. In a moment of uncharacteristic recklessness, Spencer clambered out of the vehicle before it came to a full stop, an umbrella and jacket in tow.

Hesitantly, he approached the crumpled heap of limbs underneath the pay phone. It wasn’t a full booth, it had just enough coverage to prevent the payphone from short-circuiting. You had jammed yourself underneath it, trying to keep yourself as dry as possible.

Kneeling in front of you, he swept his sopping-wet hair from his face, “Y/N.” His voice was no more than a breath, he didn’t dare reach out to touch you — lest you not want to be touched. A strike of lightning lit your surroundings enough for him to note the bruise that had bloomed on your cheek.

As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he watched as your lips parted in recognition, “You came,” you whispered.

He nodded, “You called.” His heart soared as you shuffled yourself closer to him, allowing him to wrap the FBI-issued jacket around your rain-soaked frame. “Let’s get you out of this rain, alright?”

Standing up on shaky legs, Spencer helped you walk to the SUV where your dad was waiting, shining a flashlight to help guide you to the vehicle. Based on how heavily you were leaning on him, he could tell that your left leg was injured. Despite your injury, you stepped away from Spencer to hug your father.

For a moment, Spencer felt like he was intruding on a family moment, but he recalled all of the times he had been invited to join in Hotchner festivities these last few years and allowed his eyes to meet Hotch’s.

The two of them shared an understanding look as Hotch pulled away, “We should get you to a hospital,” he said, cupping your face with parental gentleness.

Spencer helped you into the SUV, unable to put any pressure on your leg, you depended on the handles to pull yourself up. As you maneuvered yourself, he tried to determine what your injuries were. His eyes scanned your body until he made his way back to your face, “Angel, keep your eyes open.” He felt as if he was asking a lot of you, but he didn’t know if you had taken a hit to the head. Falling asleep could do more damage. “Hey, Y/N?” He said, watching as your eyes fell shut and your head slumped forward. “Hotch,” Reid said urgently from the backseat.

Understanding perfectly, Hotch hit the lights on the SUV and turned on the siren. Flashes of red and blue signaled to other drivers that there was an emergency.

You were silent.

As soon as they had gotten you to the emergency room, your entire demeanor had changed. Spencer guessed that you had been in fight or flight when they had picked you up from the phone booth, and now that you were getting the help that you needed, all of the fight had vacated your being.

In the white fluorescence of the hospital, he could see how drained you looked. Once the doctors got their hands on you, you refused to let him or your dad near you.

Hotch was in the hallway, talking on the phone with your Aunt Jessica while he tried to arrange childcare for Jack so he could stay with you - the leader of your care team estimated you’d be in the hospital for at least a few days.

While you had been mobile when they came to get you, your energy had left along with your adrenaline, and eventually, the best course of action was to just let you sleep. That was how Spencer ended up sitting cross-legged in a stiff hospital chair, watching over you as you slept.

Respectful of your wishes, he kept a fair distance from you, but you’d be hard-pressed to convince him to let you out of his sight. There were tubes and wires going every which way from your body, oxygen, an IV, and electrodes monitored your life. Boiling you down to a collection of numbers that showed Spencer just how alive you were.

The doctors suspected you had bacterial pneumonia, but they were still waiting on the results of your chest X-ray to make a formal diagnosis. Your presumed leg injury had turned out to be a bruised hip bone – part of a sickening pattern that reflected that of someone who had been thrown down a flight of stairs.

A knock on the window to your hospital room caught his attention, causing him to turn his head and come face to face with Rossi and Blake. Opening the blinds so that he’d be able to keep an eye on you from the hallway, Spencer stood up and joined his colleagues in the corridor.

“What’s the report?” Rossi asked, nodding in the direction of your room, and placing his hands on his hips.

Spencer rubbed the back of his neck before responding, “The doctor said that all things considered, she’s in good shape, but…” Shaking his head to wake himself up, he crossed his arms in front of his chest, “She’s sick and was beaten. Right now, she’s sleeping. We have no idea she was running in the woods, so it’s not surprising that she’s exhausted.”

He continued on to list other maladies that the doctors had provided, dehydration, malnutrition, one cut on your arm that needed to be stitched, and that was just scratching the surface. Dave nodded understandingly, “but the sooner we get to ask her questions, the better.”

Shrugging, Spencer looked over at your father, and then back to you, “When she wakes up on her own,” he murmured, watching as a nurse checked on your IV. He didn’t want to risk waking you up or asking too much too soon of you. “Can I ask you a quick question?” He lifted a finger inquisitively to the nurse who was walking out of your room, scribbling something on your chart.

The nurse hummed in response, raising her eyebrows as she waited for him to ask.

“Do you think the infection has anything to do with her silence? She might be hurting so she isn’t talking?” He asked, it wasn’t unheard of, when people were in a lot of pain, sometimes they coped with silence.

While the nurse might have an excellent bedside manner, the three profilers took note of the concern in her eyes. “The silence might have more to do with her psychological well-being than her physical well-being,” she responded, it was a healthcare way of trying to appease them. Really, they didn’t know much better than the members of the BAU did.

Blake’s eyebrows shot up in curiosity, “Could it be catatonia?”

“In order to diagnose catatonia, she’d need to display three of twelve symptoms. Those are stupor, catalepsy, waxy flexibility, mutism, negativism, posturing, mannerism, stereotypy, agitation, grimacing, echolalia, and echopraxia. So far, she really only meets one of twelve,” Spencer answered.

Shrugging, the nurse pointed at Spencer with her pen, “What he said.” She looked down at the chart before continuing, “Her care team leader called for a psych consult, but we won’t really know one way or the other until she wakes up.”

Nodding, Rossi nodded in acknowledgment, “What else could it be?”

Pursing her lips, the nurse tilted her head to the side, “Peritraumatic disassociation is another possibility, but again, we won’t know until she wakes up.”

The waiting game began. As luck would have it, an FBI agent being abducted created a lot of paperwork, so Hotch was holed up in a conference room while Rossi and Blake worked on the profile. JJ and Morgan stayed back at Quantico with Garcia to look back at what information Hotch and Spencer had been gathering over the past twenty-seven – now twenty-eight – days.

Spencer stayed with you, tucking your blanket around you when he watched goosebumps sprout along your arms. He paid close attention to everything that the doctors and nurses said about your condition, relaying everything to Hotch via text message. They ran a kit on you, and the only solace was that there was a chance that they could DNA match whoever did this to you.

He left that last part out of his message to your father.

As soon as you started waking up, Spencer had to leave the room, watching from the hallway as medical personnel flurried around your bed. At first, he had assumed your aversion to himself and your dad was an overall aversion to men, but you didn’t flinch when it came to the male doctor who was checking your vitals manually.

A nurse peeked out from the door, “Are you Dave?”

Furrowing his eyebrows, Spencer cocked his head back in confusion, “No? I’m not – why?” He asked, gaze flickering back into your room as you scrawled something on the piece of paper that a nurse had handed you.

“She said she’d talk to Dave,” the inquiring nurse shrugged, turning back into your room, and adjusting your pillow beneath your head.

Still confused, Spencer slipped his phone out of his pocket, nimbly typing a message to Rossi before returning the phone to its home in his slacks. Trying to respect your peace, Spencer remained in the hallway, leaning back against the wall as he heard the familiar sound of Italian leather boots turning the corner. “Are you sure she didn’t mean Aaron?”

Spencer shook his head, mirroring the older man’s confusion, “She physically wrote your name out. She’ll only speak to you,” he answered, trying to hide his own pain for the sake of ridding you of yours. If you wouldn’t talk to your father or himself, it made the most sense that you’d talk to Rossi. You’ve known him the entire time your father worked in the BAU.

Shrugging, Rossi walked into your room and approached you with the care of a man approaching a deer. He remained this way until he made it to your bed, and Spencer watched as he smoothed your hair away from your face affectionately.

You leaned into his touch, and Spencer didn’t miss the cue. When was the last time anyone had touched you with love in their heart?

He had kissed you goodbye before you went on your run, just thirty minutes before your location turned off and your usual Thursday route turned into a hunting ground. With what you did for work, you switched paths frequently, but someone had been watching you, or at least, that was the conclusion the team had drawn.

Watching as Rossi spoke with you, Spencer noticed one anomaly – you weren’t speaking to him. Instead, all of his questions were answered with blinks or scribbling on paper.

The two of you went until a nurse came in, telling the both of you that they needed to run a few more tests. Taking his leave, Rossi told you something that Reid couldn’t quite make out and rejoined him in the hallway.

“What did you say to her? Just now?” Spencer asked, his need for any sort of contact with you becoming so desperate that he’d now accept it secondhand.

Frowning, Rossi placed both of his hands on his hips, “I called her piccolina, I used to call her that all the time when she was just a little thing running around the old BAU bunker.” Taking a moment, Rossi pulled out his little notebook and read through it. “White male, late twenties to early thirties, sometimes gone for days on end citing ‘work,’ but she never figured out what he did for work.”

Spencer’s eyes burned at the realization that you had been working your own case while being victimized, he peered in through the window as a nurse drew your blood.

“She said he drove a dark American sedan, making it either blue or black,” Rossi continued to list off, eyes following Blake as she approached the two of you. “Y/N said the car was filthy like he had been living out of it when he couldn’t get to her in the woods. The car had an Ohio party plate on it with expired tags.”

Blake arched a brow at the new information, “Party plate?” She said quizzically, looking at Spencer for clarification.

Nodding, Spencer looked over at his friend, “That’s the colloquial name for restricted license places. They’re given to people who are convicted of DUIs, which is actually called an OVI in Ohio. In Ohio, they’re yellow with red print, and the only state to have something similar is Minnesota where they call them whiskey plates because they all start with the letter W.”

“Well, he’s confident. Maybe too confident, driving around with expired tags and a license plate that already puts a spotlight on him,” Blake said thoughtfully, adding to the profile in her mind. “We should get this information to Garcia, maybe look for people who recently relocated from Ohio with those plates,” she suggested to Rossi.

Rossi nodded, skillfully flipping the cover back over his notepad and gesturing for Blake to follow him to the conference room, effectively leading Spencer to his own devices. When the nurse left to bring the vials of blood to the lab, he returned to your room, taking his seat on the edge of the room – as far away as he could get while keeping his eyes on you.

He looked up to your bed, catching you staring at him. As soon as you knew you had been caught, you turned your head to the other side, averting your gaze toward the window.

Every thirty minutes or so, Spencer moved the chair approximately five inches closer to you, by four in the morning, he had closed half of the space between you. He kept his eyes on you, watching as you stared thoughtfully at the ceiling. You had that crease between your eyebrows that told him you were thinking too hard, and he had to sit on his hands to stop himself from reaching out and touching it as if he could soothe all of your bad thoughts.

In the doorway, Rossi had appeared, garnering your attention as you propped yourself up on the flat hospital pillows. “We got him,” Rossi announced to the room, a reserved smile on his face.

Spencer watched as you visibly relaxed on the bed, your face softened as your eyebrows relaxed. Rossi explained some next steps, but he was only half listening, he could only focus on you.

Once Dave was gone, Spencer took a leap of faith and shuffled the chair to your bedside, “How are you feeling, angel?” He asked, taking up a muted tone.

You stared at him, blinking at him until, eventually, your face crumpled, and you leaned toward him.

Not missing a beat, Spencer stood up from his chair so that he could sit on the edge of your bed, meeting you in the middle, he gently wrapped his arms around you, rubbing small, soothing circles along your back with the flat of his hand.

In the past twenty-eight days, Spencer thought that being reunited with you could fix all of the hurt in his chest, but this, right here, was a different kind of pain. Tears sept through the fabric of his shirt just as soon as they fell from your eyes, and all of the hurt that he had felt before just morphed into a different kind of suffering.

His heart ached at the sight of you in this much pain, so much emotional turmoil that you had silenced yourself. What was he supposed to say in order to comfort you? ‘You’re okay,’ was wholly false, and ‘it’s alright’ felt like a cruel joke. You very clearly weren’t okay, and none of this was alright.

“I’m here,” he reassured you, his voice no more than a croak as he tried to swallow his own emotions. “I’m right here,” he repeated, continuing his ministrations on your back until you had cried yourself to sleep.

With your body in its weakened state, Spencer carefully adjusted you onto the bed, making sure none of your tubes or wires were kinked before settling back down in his chair and taking your hand in his.

Around the time the sun came up, your care team came through for morning rounds and woke you up to thoroughly inspect your status. Once they left you to your own devices – with the promise of food in half an hour – Spencer focused all of his attention on trying to coax you into speaking to him.

Tenderly, he dragged a finger across your forehead before continuing down the bridge of your nose, “I’d really like to hear your voice, sweetheart.” His voice was gentle, maintaining a subdued tone in the early hours of the morning.

He watched as you sighed, deflating all of the air in your lungs as you tipped your head to the side, interrupting his movements. “I asked him to do it,” you murmured, voice raspy from lack of use.

“To do what?” Spencer asked, heart beating a little faster at the sound of your voice. He watched how you nervously gripped a fistful of sheets and looked at him. Only you weren’t looking at him, it was more like you were looking through him.

You took a deep, shuddering breath before you answered, “To kill me.”

The confession weighed heavy on his shoulders, but it wasn’t regarding anything against you. It was in the realization that you had been in so much physical and emotional turmoil while in captivity that you had asked for your own death. That even for a moment, you sat in front of a killer and asked for him to end your life as an act of mercy.

Noting Spencer’s lack of response, you continued speaking, “That’s why he let me go. I begged him to just end it and that took away any appeal for him.”

Last night. You had pleaded on behalf of your own demise last night. Carefully considering his next words, Spencer met your eyes and replied, “That must’ve taken a lot of courage.”

You faltered for a moment, evidently not having expected those words from him, “What are you talking about?”

It made sense to him now, why you wouldn’t talk to him or your dad. He felt like such a fool. You had been ashamed because you felt like your abductor had diminished your worth by breaking you down. Spencer knew better, “You stood your ground. You faced your own death, and you chose that over further suffering. Dying isn’t an undignified act, no matter how it comes upon you,” he reminded you, smoothing your hair away from your face as he watched your lip quiver.

“Thank you for staying,” you croaked as emotion closed your throat.

Spencer hummed thoughtfully, swiping a rogue tear from your cheek, “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

#criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fic #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid angst #criminal minds angst #margot's requests #spencer reid hurt/comfort #criminal minds hurt/comfort

[moonlitdesertdreams]

Mine (All Mine)

Request: None A/N: Please enjoy some short smut and possessive!cooper. Nothing important otherwise :) Tags: Fallout, Cooper Howard, Cooper Howard x F!Reader, Cooper Howard x You, Ghoul x Reader WARNINGS: Canon-Typical language and violence, attempted SA, P in V sex, Cooper licking blood, 18+ MINORS DNI! Summary: Cooper doesn't share what's his, and he sure as hell doesn't let anyone take it by force.

Word Count: 2.4k+

(Gif Credit to @victoryrifle)

“Keep walkin’!” 

You stumble over the rusty leg irons binding your feet. The slave trader yapping in your ear proceeds to shove you once again, but you bite your tongue. 

Nothing could ever just go according to plan. 

Running low on both Vials and sustenance, you’d led a hacking Cooper into the nearest town. It was desolate, but what town wasn’t in this age? You weren’t planning on staying long anyway; you just needed to get Cooper somewhere relatively safe and barter with whoever happened to be running the pharmacy that day.

Too bad the entire town was run by Slavers, up to and including the old Mister Handy running its dingy medical outpost. You were sedated and down before the inkling to fight ever came along, left to wake up in a wood cage with your hands and feet bound. 

You went hoarse from screaming pointlessly at your captors. Your wooden prison was sat carelessly in the open, unbearable heat beating down. The whipping wind ensured that sand found its way into every crevice. There was no doubt your skin was scorched from the sun.

And they left you there, until the sun set and you could hear the roar of a raucous crowd from the town center. 

Cooper was back there somewhere, probably having hacked up a lung in the empty shell of a house you’d broken into on the outskirts of town. You were careful to board the door back up when you left, and hoped no one had retraced your steps. 

“I said move! You fuckin’ deaf?” A Slaver grabs you painfully by the ear and yanks. “Bein’ deaf drops your price.”

The other women you’re chained to - in a single file line behind you with very little slack on the chains - cower in fear. You glare at the man and decide headbutting him is the best course of action, knocking your skull into the soft part of his nose. 

“Wish I was so I didn’t have to hear you run your mouth.”

The Slaver cracks his most-likely broken nose back into place and smirks. “Maybe I’ll buy you myself. Teach you a damn lesson.”

He turns away then, letting the rest of the guards lead you down a narrow alley between two buildings. Creaky wooden stairs greet you, and you step up them without hesitation. If nothing else, you’d give the Slavers no sense of satisfaction by putting fear on display. 

The town square has been converted into a makeshift stage and audience area, where tens of people sit, stand and holler as you’re all led on stage. They all hold small signs with numbers, and it doesn’t take you long to realize it’s an auction. 

They start with the woman farthest to your left, yelling out how many caps they deemed her worthy of. It continues down the row until the auctioneer, who you realize had four eyes total on his face, stops in front of you. 

“Mint condition, this one is.” He yells into the crowd and slaps a firm hand onto your shoulder. “How many caps for her?”

You try to keep up with the people throwing numbers out, but there’s too many faces and not enough ambient light to see them all. Eventually the auctioneer moves away, and you’re left to stand there. The other women are given the same treatment, until each of them is labeled with a price and effectively sold to the highest bidder. 

The auctioneer makes an announcement about cap exchange as the crowd is dissipating, but you’re still bound in chains. Your eyes dart around, looking for any unbecoming figures that come towards you. Men meet with the auctioneer one by one, and are slowly allowed to leave with their prizes. The women are a mix of cryers and defiers, some simply accepting their fate with tears in their eyes while others scream and thrash as they’re dragged off. 

You look to the auctioneer when it’s only you left, trying to figure out what was going on. One slaver makes his way to you, grabbing at the iron cuffs  to unlock them. 

“Nah, man. Leave her cuffed.”

The slaver in front of you grins at the one who’d spoken. Coincidentally, the same whose nose you’d broken minutes ago. He steps into your field of view, and you realize he wasn’t bluffing when he said he’d buy you. Ice-cold terror flows through your veins at the helplessness of being cuffed, but you refuse to show it.

“Nasty, huh? Just how I like 'em’.”

Broken Nose grabs you by the collar and yanks you close enough that you can smell the teeth rotting out of his mouth. “Oh, I’m gonna like it. That’s for sure.”

In what is probably a poor choice, you spit in his face. Just like the headbut, it was impulsive and split-second. You don’t regret it, but you realize it’s not a great idea. Regardless, you weren’t about to go down without a fight. 

Unfortunately for you, now he’s not worried about damaging goods before a sale. The slaver backhands you, and the force sends you tumbling to the ground. You’re struggling to your hands and knees, tangled in ridiculously long chains and fumbling with your cuffs. Broken Nose kneels in front of you and grabs you by the neck. 

“Need a lesson in manners, huh?” He growls. 

You take your first good look at him. He’s probably ten years older than yourself, with yellowing teeth and greasy black hair that hangs in a stringy manner around his face. The bridge of his nose is bruised, yellow and purple all over. Dried blood is still caked around his mouth. 

“Fuck you.” 

He finally snaps, and grabs a hold of the chains. You’re dragged off the stage and pushed into the darkness of the alleyway. One fist latches into your hair, and the other replaces itself around your throat. 

“We’ll start here.” He shakes you, bringing your face within centimeters of his. “When I say something, you fuckin’ listen!” 

You’re on the ground before you know it, and large hands grab at the old leather belt around your waist. You kick and thrash to the best of your ability while bound, screaming like a banshee. The slaver manages to pin you down and crawl over top, one hand fumbling with the zipper of his pants while the other holds your cuffed wrists down. The sound of belts jangling encourages you to fight more, and you thrash upwards. He might be bigger than you, but he’s a sloppy fighter and lets one of your wrists slip free. 

Without hesitation, you swing the iron cuff and chain as hard as you can into his face. 

“Agh! You’re a dead bitch, you know that?” He stumbles to the side, leaning against a building for support and clutching his now-bleeding forehead. His pants hang loose, dirty boxers on display.

You’re on your back, covered in both your blood and his. Your chest heaves, and you stare down your would-be assaulter. 

“Y’know, I missed that last exchange.” A familiar drawl echoes from the back of the alley. “You mind repeatin’ it, boy?”

The Slaver snorts. “You want some? Go ahead and try. She’d be better off in the fuckin’ ground.”

“Oh, I don’t think I’d have to try.” Spurs clank down the empty alleyway from behind you, “Somethin’ tells me she’d come willingly.”

The Ghoul stands firm in his place, hand hovering over his gun like an old western standoff. Your head drops to the ground in relief. The slaver, though, looks more and more irritated by the moment. He glares at the Ghoul who’s now only a few feet behind you.

“Fuckin’ ghoul.” Broken Nose growls, and pulls a pistol. “Why don’t you get lost?”

Cooper takes a few more steps forward, sidestepping your body. The Slaver keeps the gun level with him. “‘Fraid I can’t do that.”

“Oh yeah?” The slaver gestures wildly with his pistol. “Why’s that?”

The Ghoul darts forward like a puma, ducking the shot that’s fired at him. You see a knife glint in the dim light, and hear it cut through flesh. 

“‘Cause nobody touches what’s mine.”

A flash of heat shoots through you in spite of the circumstances. You watch Broken Nose fall to the ground, barely alive as blood gushes from a gash across his neck. Cooper’s knife drops from his hand, falling to blood-stained dirt. He turns to you slowly. 

“You alright?”

He’s covered in blood, obviously pissed off, and has never been more attractive. 

“Fantastic.” You breathe. The fiery determination and blatant possessiveness on display by the Ghoul shoot bolts of want straight to your cunt. 

The Ghoul steps over Broken Nose’s legs to get to you. His eyes are dark, but do a once over to check you for injuries. 

“He touch you?” Cooper’s drawl is thick. So much so that it almost twists his words into a snarl. 

You push yourself to sit up. “Not anywhere delicate.”

Cooper hums and uses your chains to pull you up. Your legs are sore from kicking, and arms raw from the cuffs. “Whatta ‘bout this?”

You look down as he reaches to you and fiddles with the unfastened belt. His hands linger at the button of your jeans, tugging at the fabric. 

“Oh, he tried.” You shiver as Cooper’s fingers  dance over the skin of your stomach. “But I wouldn’t let him.”

His leather gloves fist into your shirt and yank you close. You trip over the chains and fall into his chest. 

“Damn right.” His breath washes over your ear. “Nobody touches you like that but me.”

You’d be lying if you said wetness didn’t gather between your legs faster than a speeding bullet. Cooper’s eyes jotted town towards your dangling belt once more before he used your bounds to spin you back against the wall. One of his knees jammed between your thighs, and his hands landed heavily on either side of your head. 

You wet your lips as he hovers mere centimeters away. The Ghoul’s eyes are transfixed on your chest and stomach, where your white tank top is bared and covered in red stains. He lowers a hand to brush up your stomach, between your breasts and through rivulets of crimson. It’s immediately stuck into his mouth, and you moan shakily as his tongue darts out to taste your attacker’s blood. 

Cooper turns his head and spits. “Slavers always taste foul.” 

You readjust yourself on his knee to send pleasant waves of heat to your core. “Cooper Howard?”

He looks down at you, hat brim drawn low on his brow and desire burning bright in his eyes. There’s a bulge visible just below his belt that makes you salivate. 

“What could you possibly want, darlin’?” His marred face leans in close, lips brushing your ears. Teeth nip at your earlobe, “Couldn’t be to fuck right here in the open where you was attacked by some other fella, now is it?”

Now, you know that sentence should give you pause. 

However, this world is fucked beyond belief. 

You whimper out your answer, and the Ghoul continues his steady ministrations down your neck and in that sensitive spot behind your ear. With your hands bound, you can’t do much more than tangle your fingers in his shirt and hold. 

When he resurfaces, your neck is wet with saliva and sweat.

“I’ll take care of you, babydoll.” He purrs. “Right here, right now. You just gotta do one thing for me.”

You fist your hand in his shirt, but are surprised to find the cuffs slipping away after he fumbles with them for a moment. A quick glance shows him pocketing a key, but you’re too worked up to focus on one thing for too long. 

“What do I gotta do?”

You really don’t mean to sound so desperate, but something about Cooper always has you heated and dripping as soon as he initiates anything intimate. 

“Just tell me.” He grunts as you tug at his belt with newly freed hands. “Who do you belong to?”

Oh, you’re fucked.

“You. Fuck, I belong to you.” You gasp as you free him from his pants. “I want you to use me to get off.”

A scarred hand wraps tight around your neck and forces your head upwards. “Damn straight.”

It takes no time to yank your pants low enough for him to enter you. You’ve flipped so your front side is pinned to the building, legs spread. Cooper takes long, slow thrusts at first before picking up the pace. Large, strong hands hold your hips steady. You brace yourself with your hands, moaning in time with his thrusts. He’s stable throughout, only growling pet names into your ear when you let out a whine. The Ghoul begins to stagger when he’s close, and it’s not long before you feel his release coating your walls and dripping out onto the dirt. 

You don’t realize how unstable and sore your legs are until he’s sliding out of you, filthy noises following. His cock pulses against your swollen slit before you fully collapse. 

“Easy now.” Cooper catches you, one hand attempting to fasten himself back into his jeans, “Seems that we gotta go back to camp, huh?”

Your mind is alight with want for him, and you whine in his absence. “Coop, please.”

“Oh no need to beg, sugar.” He fixes your pants as well, “I plan on taking good care of you when we get there.”

Back at camp, he fulfills his promise and more. 

You beg and plead for your release, and it’s granted with enthusiasm. 

And after it’s done, you both ache for sleep, to rest sore muscles and heal new bruises. Some from fights, and others from passion. A blanket of stars coerces you to shut your eyes, and you’re helpless to resist. This night could have ended much differently - namely, with a bullet in your head- so you think about how grateful you are to have the legendary Ghoul at your side, protecting you on your shared journey for the truth. Willing to fight through his own suffering and dependencies to keep you safe in spite of his rocky exterior. 

You like to think he’s a big teddy bear, but you didn’t dare put it out into the world while in his vicinity.

The thoughts are fleeting, and you fall into oblivion while tucked into the side of vengeance itself. It’s a place many others, even in this hellscape of a Wasteland, wouldn’t dare to get near. 

The big, bad Ghoul.

And he’s all mine.

thanks for reading, much love ❤

Read More: Fallout Masterlist

#Cooper Howard #Cooper Howard x You #Ghoul x Reader #fallout imagine #cooper howard #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #cooper howard x f!reader #The Ghoul x Reader #the Ghoul x you #cooper howard x oc #fallout tv series #lucy maclean #walton goggins #fallout fiends #possessive!cooper howard #fallout #fallout 4 #fallout new vegas #ghouls deserve love too

[lunajay33]

Save a Horse🍂

Summary: Wandering around in the apocalypse was hell until you came across a a ranch, finding a injured horse you helped it finding the owner and things getting a little heated with an older cowboy

Pairing: Cowboy Negan Smith x f!reader

Warning: Age gap, reader is in 20s Negan is mid 40s, p in v, praise, virginity lose

Inspired by @lanadelnegan stories🤎

•Masterlist•

The apocalypse hit and everything happened so fast, I was with my family at our farm for some time watching the news, listening to the horror stories on the radio, we thought that we could go unscathed since we hadn’t been affected and that all the food and water we needed was on our land but all that changed one night when a hoard of walkers ran down our farm, my parents were first trying to fight of the walkers, quickly being ripped apart their screams still lingered in my head whenever I thought about them, then it was my two sisters trying to flee but got surrounded taking them down as well, I was lucky enough to get to my truck finding an opening in the walkers and driving away from my home, leaving me all alone on the road

Now it’s been 2 years going from place to place just trying to survive, to find a reason to keep living in this cruel world, I’ve been able to dodge as many walkers as I can, that wasn’t the main problem anymore, the food shortage was what dwindled my hope

My truck had broke down a while back so now I’ve just been wandering on foot, walking through the trees trying to get some shade from Georgia summer heat when I hear a groan and thud, I follow the direction of the whines on a left of what have might caused it, walkers, people, god knows what now a days

Rounding a tree I see a horse laying down on the ground, I approached slowly not wanting to spook it having experience with horses back on the farm, kneeling in front of it petting its soft black mane

“Hey girl, what are you doing out here all alone?” She didn’t look injured she was laying down fine, maybe she just got hot it was one of the hottest days I’ve ever lived in even in Georgia

I took out one of the bottles of water I found poring some of it over her face to help cool her down then poring the rest in a bowl I had in my bag and she was quick to drink it

After some time I stood up taking her lead rope trying to get her to stand up, I couldn’t leave her here all alone for some walkers to eat her alive maybe she came from somewhere near by

Walking through the trees she would occasionally change our course more like she was leading me than I was her until we got to a break in the trees, a ranch in perfect condition, a few horses grazing the field, little sheep’s hoping around, a chicken coop and a cozy little cabin like house right in the middle of the land, a brown bronco truck parked out front

Opening the gate, closing it behind me and the horse so the other animals wouldn’t get out like she did somehow, when a deep voice stopped me in my tracks

“See ya brought Missy back, been wondering where she went off to” coming down the porch steps was a older man, cowboy hat, white shirt, blue jeans and boots, maybe it was the lack of human contact or even interactions but damn was he fine, I didn’t realize he was right infront of me till he cleared his throat breaking me out of my oogling

“Oh yeah, I found her out in the woods she must had heat exhaustion so I gave her some water” my stomach feels like it’s in knots, I haven’t felt like this in so long, he’s said a few words and I’m entranced by him

“A nice and pretty girl might just have to keep ya around darling” he smirked making my knees weak, but I still have my values I’m not just going to jump his bones even though the urge is so strong

“Oh I mean if you’re able to take me in I’ll earn my keep, help around the farm, anything I just…..I can’t stay out there alone any longer” I said praying he’d give me a chance, some hope

“Ya sure you know what you’re doing around a farm?” He asked as he looked me up and down, lingering on my chest

“I grew up on a farm, I know what I’m doing”

“Hmmm well come on in, see where you can stay” I let Missy go so she could run off with the others, following him inside, it was bigger on the inside than it looked on the outside, cute kitchen, wooden accents around the house, he kept walking down a hallways till he stopped at a room waiting for me to go in first, it was cozy, I don’t care if this place was trashy as long as I can be stress free and have someone to keep me company

“You like it?” He asked from the doorway

“I love it, thank you” I said as I sit on the bed letting out a long awaited sigh

“How long were you out there?”

“I don’t know time is hard to keep track of out there, maybe 2 years”

“Damn girl, 2 years did you atleast have someone out there?”

“My farm fell early taking my family with it when the walkers came, so it’s just been me until now”

He gave me a pitiful look it made the blood rush to my cheeks

“Come on darlin, supper should be done, should get some food in you” he said waving me out of the room and Im quick to follow him to the kitchen where I sit at the table as he dishes up some food, fresh food something I haven’t had in well forever it feels like

He sits across from me at the table taking his hat of showing his dark brown hair streaked with some grey, biting my lip to stop myself from fantasizing about running my hands through his hair, pulling on it as I feel his beard scratch against my legs

“So what’s your name darlin, like to call you something other than sweet names” he smirks obviously realizing my constant leering but he didn’t make it easy

“I’m fine with your little names but it’s y/n”

“You got a spark still considering how long you’ve been out there, how old are you even?”

“20 you?”

“Let’s just say I’m old enough to be your father”

“Not a problem for me” I said under my breath

A few weeks went by and I did what I said, working hard around the farm, waking up early to collect eggs from the chicken coop, feeding the horses and sheep, picking any ripe berries from the garden all before he was even up, no different from today, I laid berries on our plates and scrambled some eggs finishing right when he comes out of his room, scruffy hair, boxers and a black tank top showing off his tattoos, yes I earned my keep but the tension between us was growing stronger and stronger everyday, every touch, every long night of staying up talking I have to do something about it

“Morning Negan sleep well?” I asked as he sat across from me, our usual spots since that first day

“Great darlin, would’ve been better if you were next to me all night” he smirked, he’d do this tease me and act like it was nothing but it was something to me especially when I’d stay up late at night touching myself thinking of the things he’d say

“Negan you’re driving me crazy you know that” I said chomping on a strawberry

“You think I don’t hear you?”

“What?” My face flushed, please god don’t let it be what I think it is

“At night, when you think I’m fast asleep, I hear you moaning my name, whimpering when you can’t make yourself finish” he said his voice getting deeper as he leaned further across the table

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I gotta go……..go clean up the hay” I said flustered and completely embarrassed standing up and leaving the house to the barn

OH MY GOD this is so embarrassing, he’s heard me touch my self to him what is wrong with me, it’s only been a week and I can’t control myself, maybe because he’s everything I want, strong sexy makes my knees weak and panties wet, plus I have so much pent up sexual frustration, growing up on a farm and not being allowed to date led to me now, a horny 20 year old fantasizing about a man who generously gave me shelter and food, I’m a mess, a horny mess that wants to ride this man all day long

I get to the barn pitchforking any loose straw back into the pile trying to figure out what I’m suppose to do now, how do I face him again after he’s heard me moan his name

“I can hear your crazy thoughts from here darling” I look to the barn door seeing him dressed in blue jeans, cowboy boots, his cowboy hat and a brown plaid

“I can’t take it anymore Negan, obviously you know that now, please just……..”

“Just what baby?” He asks his voice deeper again as he gets closer gripping my waist, his hands alone engulfing me

“Just touch me”

He leans down grabbing the back of my thighs lifting me to straddle his hips, my arms wrapped around his shoulders now face to face

“You sure you can handle this sweetheart?”

“I need it, I need you to fuck me please I’ve been so good” I say as he litters my neck with sloppy kisses

“You have, such a good girl for me, guess you deserve a big reward for that” he smirks as he squeezes my ass, laying my down in the hay pile

“Fuck you got me so hard, you know how hard it was to not bust into your room hearing your sweet moans just begging for me to plow this pussy?” He grips the bottom of my sundress hauling it off over my head leaving me in just my panties, my tits completely exposed

Hearing him groan as his hands roam my body, from my hips up my stomach to caress my tits rubbing his thumbs over them making my panties even more soaked

“That feels so good, doesn’t feel like this *fuck* when I try” I whimper my body feeling like it’s on fire

“No one ever make you feel good darling?” He says as he leaves kitten licks against my nipples feeling like lighting shooting from them to my clit, trying to grind against his thigh between my legs

“No, no one’s ever…..”

“No ones ever touched you, you’re a virgin?” He continues to suck hickeys down my stomach stopping at the hem of my panties

“Only you” I moan needing more

“Don’t worry I’ll make you feel good baby” he removed everything he’d wearing going to throw his hat in the pile of clothes but is top him

“Stop!……keep it on”

“You like cowboys? Wanna take a ride?” He smirks as he pulls down my panties leaving us both naked

“I mean I did save your horse, it’s only right to ride the cowboy” I say as I flip him over to straddle his hips, his dick standing big thick and prominent, he’s really gonna stretch me out good

“Oh ya it’s only right” he laughs squeezing my hips hard as he helps me move them back and forth grinding on his dick getting it wet

“I need it please”

“Take your time darling” he says as he lifts me up so I’m hovering right above him feeling his tip gently pushing against me

I slowly push down feeling the pressure and stretch, it hurt god it was way bigger than my two fingers

“Fuck baby you’re so tight” he grunts

“Is it…….is it all in, you’re so big I don’t know if I can take much more” I moan uncontrollably, all this sexual frustration finally breaking free

“Just a little more, come on be a good girl and take it” he helps push me down the rest of the way till I feel his skin flush against my clit

I sigh I relief that I got it all in but the sting isn’t pleasant

“Take your time cowgirl, wanna get you nice and stretched before you try and ride your cowboy” he laughs as he sits up kissing my neck again and rubbing my clit to help distract the pain

“God I can’t wait” I say gripping his shoulders as I start moving up and down, slowly at first feeling him deeper and deeper each time

“Fuck baby this pussy is gonna be the death of me” I take his hat putting it on holding it with one hand just like I would when riding a mechanical bull, bouncing and gyrating fast and harder and deeper feeling him hit that spot where it makes me see stars and screaming his name over and over as I feel that tension build up in my lower stomach

“Come on cowgirl, cum on my dick, make yourself cum, let it out” he says meeting my thrusts over and over driving even deeper

My hearing goes fuzzy feeling like my whole body is lit up with pleasure, it’s never felt this good before doing it by myself, soon feeling a warm liquid shoot up inside me, dripping down in between us making a sticky hot mess

Coming back down to earth from that mind blowing orgasm I feel his hands roaming up and down my back, his chest pressed against mine

“Did I do it right” I moan biting my lip slowly grinding on him

“Damn darling, that was the best fuck of my life, yeah you did it right, look great doing it to, could get us to this” he says laying back in the hay hands behind his head

I sat up feeling him slide out whining when he popped out his cum dripping onto the hay as I lean down against his chest

“I want more”

“Damn baby girl, they were right good girls really are the most frustrated”

We spent the rest of the day in the barn, him taking me in every position imaginable, everyone better than the last until we were exhausted and my pussy ached so good

“Glad you found my horse that day”

“Me too Negan”

I want this man desperately damn, I’m newish to writing this kind of story so if you got any tips lmk

#twd fanfiction #daryl dixion imagine #twd daryl #daryl dixon #twd x reader #twd fluff #twd negan #daryl dixon x reader #negan smith x you #negan #negan x you #negan smut #negan x reader #negan imagine #negan fanfiction #the walking dead negan #negan smith #negan smith x y/n #Negan cowboy #negan smith smut

[cntloup]

Mafia!Simon x Bartender!Reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

“What the fuck happened?” Kyle asks as he steps towards Johnny who’s standing at the door to Simon’s room in the hospital. 

‘This shouldn’t have fucking happened!’ Simon shouts followed by the sound of glass breaking. 

“Calm down now, Simon. We'll find her-” Price says and gets cut off by Simon wincing and groaning as he tries to get up from the bed, his hand clutching his wound on his abdomen. 

“You need to rest. I sent some guys to get some information about her whereabouts. Laswell is working on it.” Price tries to reason with him and gently pushes his shoulders to keep him on the bed. 

“This fucking happened on my watch! And I need to fix it!” Simon hisses in John’s face while pulling away from his touch, eyes burning with rage, threatening that he won’t stop at anything to get you back. 

“You’ll only make it worse! Now calm the fuck down and let me deal with it!” John retorts, getting dangerously closer to him, showing that he’s just as serious as him. 

Simon gathers all his might to keep his composure and not break down... or not break everything down that is in sight and keeps him from getting you back. 

“You were unconscious! This is not your fault-” John starts, “Whose fault is it then?” Simon cuts him off.  

“Whoever the fuck that took her! There's nothing you could do then, or you can do now! You need to heal first. I need my best man by my side. Let me deal with gathering the info first while you get better. Then, I'll come to you to unleash hell on the fuckers!” John remarks, placing his hand on Simon’s shoulder. 

Simon knows deep down that he’s right... but also knows that if they delay, some horrible things might happen to you. They have no idea who took you away, where you are... and what they’re doing to you. It makes his blood boil with pure fury at the mere thought of anyone laying a hand on you. 

“I can’t just sit here and do nothing!” Simon utters in frustration, “You should! We can’t have you slow us down now, can we?” John says, making Simon shut his mouth, but his mind runs a million miles an hour with thoughts of what could happen to you if they get there too late. 

The door opens and two of John’s men enter the room, informing them of the trail they found about who might have taken you. 

“The bloody Russians? I fuckin’ knew it, John! I told you not to do it! And she did too. She probably knows something. That's why they took her.” Simon shouts and gets off the bed, not caring about the agonizing pain that razes through his body. 

“I didn’t fuckin’ seal the deal with them! And that’s why this whole fuckin’ thing happened!” John raises his voice and throws his glass across the room. 

"You didn't?!" Simon asks, a shocked look etched on his face, "No!" John replies, "That's why they took her. They found out she knows something. They know you two were against the whole deal."

The sound of glass shattering and the shouting alert the staff, but Kyle and Johnny prevent them from entering. 

The room is filled with heavy tension and pure rage as they all go through what led to this and what should be the next step. 

#simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #cod x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost x reader #ghost riley #ghost simon riley #cod fanfic #ghost cod #cod ghost #ghost call of duty #call of duty #cod mw2 #cod #mw2 #cod modern warfare

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Just Keep Breathing

Sam and Dean & little sister!reader, Castiel & Winchester!reader, Rowena & Winchester!reader

Requested by Anonymous (x2)

Synopsis: You get sick from a mysterious illness, and you just can’t seem to get better.

“Finally!”

Dean’s voice was the first you heard as you stumbled into the bunker after an insanely long school day. You were somehow sweating and freezing at the same time, and it felt like you might collapse any second.

“Grab a book, there’s a ton of lore to go through,” Dean continued. “We’re looking for more info on witches, seems like there might be…” Dean’s voice trailed off when he looked up to see you all but slumping down the stairs. “Hey kid, you ok?”

“Mm-hmm,” you huffed in response as your backpack dropped to the floor—had you done that? You didn’t remember making the decision to take it off, it seemed to just fall off your slumped shoulders on its own.

“Ok, commere.” You blinked and there was Dean, his hand lifting to your forehead and his brow drawn in concern. “Jeez, you’re burning up.”

At Dean’s words, Sam looked up.

“She’s sick?” He asked.

“Yeah.” Dean removed his hand and lowered himself to one knee to look at your downturned, unfocused gaze. “Sweetheart, look at me.”

You tried to focus on Dean’s eyes, but your gaze refused to settle.

“Yeah ok,” Dean sighed. “Let’s get you to bed.”

You let Dean lead you to your room and tuck you into bed. He even helped you take your shoes off when your fingers fumbled with the laces.

“Did you eat today?” Dean asked as you settled in.

“I…” you wracked your befuddled brain. “I had lunch…but then I threw it up sometime after sixth period.”

“Ok.” Dean cringed. “You get some sleep, I’m gonna go make you food.”

“Nooo.”

Dean turned in surprise at your desperate whine.

“What? What’s wrong?”

You grabbed at his sleeve and tugged.

“Don’t go,” you sniffled. “I don’t want food, I just want you to stay.”

“Ok, ok,” Dean relented, figuring that once you were asleep he could make you something. “You better not get me sick,” he said, only half kidding, as he sat on your bed. When you reached out to him, he went to put his arms around you, but the second his hands touched you, you flinched away.

“That hurts!” You were starting to cry now as you backed away from your brother.

“What hurts?” Dean was baffled. “I barely even…” he trailed off as he pressed the back of his hand to your head again, ignoring the way you hissed and tried to flinch away from him. “Jeesh, it’s even worse now,” Dean mumbled. “Just lay back now, you gotta get some sleep, ok?”

“Don’t go,” you begged.

“I’m not going anywhere, just take it easy sweetheart,” Dean promised. “Get some rest.”

Dean waited until he was sure you were asleep before he went to talk to Sam.

“She asleep?” Sam asked, not even looking up from the lore book he was studying.

“Yeah…” Dean’s voice trailed off as he stood there awkwardly for a moment. “Sam, something’s wrong.”

“Wrong? What, with Y/N?”

“Yeah. I don’t know how to explain it…she was getting hot so fast, and when I tried to touch her, it was like I burned her or something. I don’t know, I guess I can’t be sure, but something about her getting sick doesn’t feel…normal.”

“Ok.” Sam nodded. “Well, you call around at the school and see if there’s a bug going around. I’m gonna hit the lore a bit more.”

The boys didn’t speak as they got to work.

…

Sam was heading to the kitchen when he heard you calling for him. He detoured into your room, his heart constructing when he saw you—you were pale and sweaty, the sheets sticking to your skin. He couldn’t tell if your cheeks were glistening from tears or sweat—it was obvious you were in pain.

“Hey honey,” he greeted gently. “Did you need something?”

“Can you stay with me?” You pleaded. Sam didn’t hesitate, coming over to sit on your bed. You reached out to hold his hand, but when your fingers touched his you hissed and pulled away.

“Something wrong?” Sam asked, remembering what Dean had said.

“It hurts.” Now there was no mistaking the tears on your face for sweat—Sam had never seen you so upset and in pain. “It’s like-like my skin is on fire and-and I just want a hug but when anybody touches me it just—it just gets worse.” You were out of breath and choking on your words by the end, and it took every ounce of Sam’s will to ignore his big brother instinct and not pull you into his arms—the last thing he wanted was to hurt you worse.

“Stay right here, I’m coming right back,” Sam said as he stood. You didn’t say anything, you just watched curiously—and a little worried—as Sam left. Sure enough, he returned a minute later with a bowl full of water and a glove.

“Ok, I’m gonna try something, hold still,” Sam instructed.

You started to giggle when Sam pulled the glove on and plunged his hand in the bowl. He grinned at you, happy to hear you laughing again.

“Ok now, hold still,” Sam insisted. “This is serious.” But he was still grinning as he took his dripping, gloved hand and pressed it against your forehead. “How does that feel?”

You closed your eyes in contentment as the cool water hit your skin and the gentle cloth brushed against your forehead.

“Better,” you told Sam with a smile. “Thanks, Sammy.”

“Anytime,” Sam said.

The two of you stayed like that for most of the afternoon, with Sam comforting you and trying to cool you off with the wet glove. Sam was determined to do anything he could to make you feel better while Dean was trying to investigate the cause of your illness. He’d also been calling Cas all day, but he hadn’t gotten an answer.

Dean was just about to give up on the books and catch a few hours of sleep when he heard Sam calling for him. He followed the sound to your room, where he found his little siblings resting on your bed.

“Can you sing me a song?” You asked, shyly picking at your sheets.

“Uhm…” Dean swallowed, a little uncomfortable. “Sure sweetheart.”

Sam relented his spot next to you so that Dean could climb in. He started off just humming “Hey Jude,” and within minutes you were fast asleep.

“You were right, Dean,” Sam said when he was sure you were asleep. “I don’t know what it is but—but it’s bad.”

“Ok well we don’t need to panic,” Dean assured him, noticing Sam’s rising anxiety. “She’s been sick before, let’s just give it a little longer and see what happens. Maybe Cas’ll finally come around and set her straight.”

“I don’t remember,” Sam mumbled.

“What?” Dean asked.

“Her getting sick. I barely ever remember her being sick.”

“Dad always sent you to school whether she was sick or not. I usually stayed behind to take care of her.” A ghost of a smile passed across Dean’s lips. “Most of the time I had to convince dad that I’d caught whatever she had so that he’d let me stay with her. I never wanted to leave her when she was sick.”

Sam was quiet for a long moment before a thought occurred to him.

“I don’t ever remember you sick.”

At this, Dean shrugged.

“I usually just powered through it. I had a job to do, after all.”

Sam was about to comment on that when his eyes suddenly snapped to you.

“Dean, is…is she breathing?” Dean jumped up as Sam moved closer to you. “Dean she’s not breathing!”

Dean blocked Sam from getting in the way and grabbed hold of your shoulders.

“Hey…hey!”

You jolted awake when Deans shook you, taking a great gulp of air the moment you were awake.

“Hey…ok…” Dean breathed a sigh of relief, holding you in his arms until he heard you crying as you tried to pull away. “You ok?” He asked as he let you go.

“It still hurts,” you sniffled. “What…what happened?”

“You stopped breathing,” Sam said. “It…jeez kid, you scared us.”

Dean noticed that your breaths still sounded labored.

“Are you ok?” He asked.

“It…it kinda hurts,” you muttered almost to yourself as you rubbed at your chest.

“Breathing?” Sam met Dean’s eyes—they were terrified.

Your only response was a tiny nod as you continued to take shallow breaths.

“I’m gonna try Cas again,” Dean said, standing from your bed.

“I’m…” Sam hesitated, as though he didn’t want to tell Dean what he was thinking. “I’m gonna call Rowena.”

“Rowena?” Dean demanded. “Why?”

“Because we don’t know what this is, Dean!” Sam insisted. “For all we know, she got cursed! We were looking into witch activity in the area. Maybe Rowena can help.”

Dean backed off.

“Fine. Call her.”

…

“I can’t heal her.”

“That’s because it’s a spell, you idiot.”

“I can’t be sure of that.”

“Well I can!”

“Ok, ok,” Dean interrupted Rowena and Cas’s argument. “This isn’t helping anything. Rowena, what can you do?”

“Not much I’m afraid,” Rowena sighed. “I can’t undo the spell.”

“Well can you at least tell us what the spell is?” Sam cut in before Dean had a chance to get angry.

“That’s easy enough. It seems to be some kind of…anti-body spell.”

“What does that mean?” Dean demanded.

“It means that her body is slowly starting to reject what it needs or wants the most. Basic needs like food, water, probably even sleep, will start to hurt her.”

“It hurt when I touched her skin,” Sam interrupted.

Rowena shrugged, and continued. “I suppose the need or desire for physical affection counts. It will get worse, though. Things that she can’t live without will be too painful for her to do. Eventually even breathing will be unbearable.”

“It already hurts to breathe.” Everyone had all but forgotten you were there until you made yourself known. Your voice came out in a terrified whisper, but everyone heard you clearly.

“We’re gonna fix it,” Dean asserted. “All we have to do is find the witch, right? Then kill her.”

“It might not be that simple,” Rowena sighed. “I mean, it could’ve been anyone. For all we know, they put a spell on Y/N to make her forget them.”

“Then what are we gonna do?!” Dean demanded.

“You and Cas try to find that witch,” Sam jumped in, trying to find a way to keep panic down. “We already have a head start, since we were pretty sure one was in the area anyway. You know where most of the strange activity was, start there. Rowena and I will stay here, try and see if there’s an undo spell.”

Dean didn’t hesitate to agree. If he wasn’t so preoccupied worrying over you, he would’ve been very proud of Sam, stepping up while he was panicking. Now that Dean had a direction, he was calmer—he was ready.

“Ok. Let’s go.”

…

“Please don’t leave me.”

Dean and Cas had already left, and Rowena and Sam were halfway out of your room when you tear-strained voice reached Sam. He turned to face you, and his resolve to hit the books in the library crumbled when he saw you, shaking in fear and taking shallow, painful breaths.

“Bring me some books to look through,” he muttered to Rowena before coming to sit on your bed.

It was silent in your room for a few deafening seconds, before your shattered gaze met Sam’s and you spoke, breaking his heart.

“I don’t wanna die, Sammy.”

“Hey,” Sam turned to face you, resisting once again the urge to pull you into his arms. “Me and Dean are never gonna let that happen. You know that, right?”

“It-it hurts to breathe,” you cried. “And it keeps getting worse. I don’t—I don’t know how long I can do it.”

“Hey, hey…” Sam was reaching for you when he remembered that that would only make you hurt worse. His hand froze in the air, halfway to your face. “I…” Sam‘s voice cracked. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Don’t…don’t say that, ok? You have to keep fighting, ok? We’re gonna find a way to fix this, but you just have to keep fighting.” Sam was so desperate to hug you that he pulled his sleeves over his hand to cover his skin and pulled you into his arms. You allowed it for several seconds, wanting so desperately to just sink into his arms. But you couldn’t.

“That…” you struggled to get the words out; you didn’t want to say them. “That hurts, too, Sammy.”

Sam flinched back like he’d been shot, looking down at you in utter defeat.

“I’m…I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

The despair in the room was total.

…

“I’ve got it!”

Sam regretted his outburst when you jolted awake. Rowena had warned the both of you that sleeping might end up making you hurt more rather than feel better, but you had all but passed out from exhaustion and pain, and Sam didn’t have the heart to stop you. Even in sleep, or body and face twitched in pain periodically.

Now that you were awake, it was obvious that Rowena was right; it had made it worse.

“What—“ your breathing was labored as each breath pained you. “What happened?”

Rowena stepped into the room, having heard Sam’s declaration.

“I found the spell,” Sam insisted, holding the book up. Rowena approached him with a dubious frown. However, once she started to read the spell she slowly nodded.

“This might just do it,” she said.

“I’m gonna call Dean.”

…

Dean and Cas returned within an hour.

“Not a single lead,” Dean said, annoyed. “So this had better work.”

“Let’s hope so,” Sam sighed, looking at Rowena. She nodded.

“It’s a good thing that this bunker is well-stocked,” she said. “I believe we’re running out of time.”

Your gaze turned downwards when everyone glanced at you at Rowena’s words. Sure enough, your breaths had been getting shallower and shorter in your failed attempts to make them hurt less. You were also weak and pale from the lack of food and water you’d had over the past two days.

“Do it.” Dean was the first to look away from you as he spoke to Rowena.

Rowena handed you a cup filled with a mixture of herbs and things you didn’t want to know about. Your lip was quivering as you lifted the cup to your lips—you’d avoided food and water for a reason; if breathing was like a stab to the chest, how would swallowing down a potion feel?

Sam’s heart was breaking as he watched you struggle to swallow through the pain, and Dean couldn’t even look.

As soon as you had the potion down, Rowena started reading a Latin incantation from the book. Sam watched you carefully as Rowena finished it. He crossed his fingers behind his back, holding his breath as he hoped that your own would become less labored. Instead, your eyes widened in surprise as your breaths became even more panicked.

“What’s happening?” Dean demanded, his eyes flashing from you to Rowena. “What did you do?!”

“I-I don’t understand…” Rowena muttered, flipping through the book. “It should have…”

“Sam…De…” you whimpered.

Dean’s panicked eyes met Sam’s, then yours, before they went back to Rowena.

“Found it!” Rowena breathed relief, before her eyes once again clouded with worry. “Oh no.”

“What?” Sam and Dean demanded in unison.

“The-the counterspell…it takes an hour to work, and as it works through the curse, the curse…fights back.”

“What does that mean?” Dean’s breathing sounded almost as labored as yours as he struggled to keep down his fear as well as his anger.

“It means that it’ll get worse before it gets better. If we…if we had found this at the beginning, it would’ve worked easily, but…”

“But she might not survive an hour like this,” Cas finished for Rowena, realizing what she was saying before either brother.

“What can we do?” Sam asked.

“Nothing.” Rowena shook her head. “This spell was her only hope, so…so we just have to wait and see if she outlasts the curse now. It shouldn’t take any more than an hour.”

“Ok,” Dean said, coming to sit by you. “You can do this kiddo, ok? We’re gonna be right here, you’re gonna be fine.”

The seconds crawled by one eternity at a time. Every time Dean thought you couldn’t look more in pain, your face twisted again as you tried over and over to take a deep enough breath to satisfy your starving lungs. Once it reached fifteen minutes left, Dean noticed that every minute or so you stopped breathing completely.

“Hey, c’mon.” Dean resisted the urge to cup your face. “C’mon keep breathing, you can do it.”

Suddenly you were reaching your arms out to Dean, and he was backing away.

“I-I don’t want to hurt you,” Dean said.

“Don’t…care,” You whimpered. “I…n-need y—“ you couldn’t seem to get out full words, but Dean didn’t need anything more.

“Ok, yeah.” You were in Dean’s arms in a second. “Ok, I’m here sweetheart. I’m here, you just gotta keep breathing. Keep breathing for me.”

You burrowed against your big brother despite the pain, trying all you could to keep breathing. The pain was so blindingly unbearable that you started to feel your vision blur and blacken. Sam was the first to notice you drooping in Dean’s arms, and he reached down and pulled your face away from Dean’s chest so he could look at you.

“Hey, you gotta stay awake honey,” Sam insisted.

“Don’t let her sleep!” Rowena commanded. “Her body will stop breathing automatically if she passes out.”

“Hey, hey,” Dean’s gentle taps to your face felt like full-on punches, but they did the trick. Your eyes fluttered open once more, and your hands gripped onto Dean even harder. Sam had joined Dean on your bed, his one arm wrapped around your shoulders from behind while Dean continued to hold you in his lap. Their touch was like fire on your skin, but never had a burn been so welcome.

“Keep breathing,” Dean was repeating over and over, and without that mantra you truly would have stopped ten minutes ago.

“Seven more minutes,” Cas announced.

You went to take another small breath, and you couldn’t keep the cry of pain in when it was the worst pain yet. It hit you so hard that you felt the darkness returning.

“No no no, hey,” Dean pleaded. “Breathe kiddo, you’ve gotta keep breathing.”

You’d barely even noticed that you stopped. It felt so good to stop. The pain of your unfilled lungs wasn’t nearly as horrible as the pain of breathing.

The relief was so great that you barely even felt when the blackness finally took over, and you slumped in Dean’s arms.

…

“No no no no…” Dean was shaking you over and over, but you were out cold. “Come on, breathe!”

“Six minutes,” Castiel said.

“She won’t last that long,” Sam breathed.

“It-it’s not an exact science,” Rowena cut in. “It might…maybe it will work a little faster.”

With nothing else to do, the four watched, barely breathing, as your body lay unnaturally still on your bed. Cas was watching his watch like a guard dog, counting the seconds until you would have brain damage…until you could die…

The great, gasping breath that escaped your lips as you sat up had all four onlookers nearly crying in relief. Sam and Dean had already been crying, but even the witch and the angel couldn’t hold in their emotions anymore as you began to breathe deeply again, tears of relief streaming down your own face.

Dean held you in his arms without fear, and you clung to him without pain. Sam’s arm was still around your shoulders—he hadn’t moved an inch.

“You’re ok,” Dean breathed as you cried on his shirt, and no one was sure if he was reassuring you or himself. “You’re ok sweetheart, I’ve got you.”

You refused to let go of your brothers, having spent two days unable to take comfort in them when you needed them most. The three of you stayed like that for so long that eventually Rowena left, but Cas stayed to watch over the Winchesters he had sworn to protect—to watch over the one he’d almost lost.

He watched silently as the three siblings fell asleep—you first, then Sam, then—once he was sure that his little brother and sister were ok—finally Dean.

He watched, knowing that they had almost lost everything today.

He watched, knowing that they would only be closer because of it.

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl

#dean winchester #the winchesters #dean and sam #dean winchester x reader #supernatural dean #dean winchester x you #winchesters x reader #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #winchesters x sister #dean winchester x little sister!reader #dean winchester x sister #sam winchester x sister!reader #spn sam winchester #sam winchester x little sister!reader #sam and dean #sam and dean x child!reader #castiel & winchester!reader #castiel x winchester!reader #castiel & reader #castiel x reader #spn castiel #castiel #sam x sister!reader #dean x reader

[king-bumis-armpit]

Separation Anxiety

Written for Maiko Week 2024 - Separation

Summary: Mai takes Izumi to her family’s reunion, and Zuko stays home. It's a horrible time for both of them.

Author’s Note: I really thought I was going to stick to the prompt this time, but then the first part sort of got away from me. And I really had to hold back because my inner Kataang was about to unleash. I was about to write a whole mini-fic about them inside of this one, but I exercised restraint. I did not however exercise restraint on my thoughts about Mai’s upbringing. As a result, this is way longer than I intended. Oh well… I hope you enjoy! :)

TW: Anxiety about being parents and misogyny from Mai’s family members. I made Michi kind of awful. But there’s a happy ending, I promise!

WC: 4,276

Zuko took a deep breath and stared at his large empty bed. It had been a long while since he had to sleep alone. He sat down slowly, as if the bed might vanish at the last second before he made contact. He leaned back and tried to get comfortable, but he ended up tossing and turning until his memories overtook him.

— — 

When he and Mai were newlyweds, they agreed never to spend more than a week apart at a time. Sometimes the obligations of royalty made this vow difficult to keep, but they had managed. In fact, Zuko had been in Yu Dao when Mai found out that she was pregnant. They had been trying for some time, so Mai was ecstatic when she told him. 

Her excitement was contagious, but anxiety quickly infected him as well. He couldn’t stop thinking about what could have happened to her while he was away. What if she had fallen ill? Or what if an Ozai loyalist cell re-emerged and attacked her? Thankfully, most of the organized movements had died down after Azula had willingly turned herself in. But that was another consideration, what if Azula tried to get revenge on Mai while he was gone? He knew that Mai was more than capable of protecting herself, and normally that was enough to allay his fears, but the new worry for their child fractured his restraint. 

Zuko doubled Mai’s guard and silently promised himself to stay by her side for the rest of her pregnancy. He knew that his actions would probably annoy his wife, but surprisingly she was not the first to complain.

“Zuko, she’s pregnant, not helpless,” his mother chided him. She had cornered him in one of the hallways about a week after his return from Yu Dao. “There are always going to be circumstances beyond your control, but Mai is fully competent to go about her daily life without a small army. You need to give her space to breathe. Give your baby space to grow.”

Zuko relented and recalled the extra guards he had assigned, but then he added a pair of covert guards to keep watch without being stifling. For her part, Mai found the incident somewhat amusing. 

As they ate dinner together, she commented on the change: “Yesterday, I had a whole coterie. Today all I get are a few extra shadows.”

Zuko sighed. “Mom told me I was being overbearing. But I’m worried about you. What if something happens? You’re my whole world Mai.”

Mai turned red. “I’m impressed that anything you say can still make me blush after you impregnated me, but here we are.” Zuko chuckled, and Mai continued, “Normally I wouldn’t be cool with extra guards out of nowhere. I’m your wife and your equal, so I would like to be included in the conversation the next time you think about changing up my security detail.” 

She gave him a pointed look, and Zuko took her hand. “I’m sorry. I should have asked you first. We can ditch the elite guards if you want.

Mai’s eyes softened and she brought his hand to her cheek. “No, it’s okay. I’m not angry this time, I just want you to talk to me about things like this in the future.” She kissed his palm and set their hands on the table.

Zuko smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I didn’t want to upset you. I’ve never seen you so happy. And I’m happy too! I’m just…”

“Zuko, I’m scared too. I really want this baby to come out healthy. I’ve been carrying this list of foods I can’t have anymore, and I read it at least five times before I eat anything,” she admitted sheepishly. Mai produced said scroll from one of her dart holsters of all places. Zuko felt himself fall even more in love. The whole thing was just so Mai.

After that conversation, the pair discussed their concerns much more openly. In the worst moments, they both feared that they would take on the worst qualities of their parents. Zuko started to feel phantom pains in his scar that hadn’t plagued him since he was a teenager. They made pact after pact to hold each other accountable and to love the baby no matter what and to keep them safe. 

But even talking about their fears in the open helped to lift the burden. The anxiety didn’t dissipate, but it became easier to bear. Zuko loved talking to Mai’s bump when she began to show. Mai teased him for being silly, but he knew she secretly loved it. They redecorated the palace nursery to be less austere and more inviting. And Aang and Katara often visited with their son Bumi. 

When Mai went into labor, Katara helped her through the whole process until Princess Izumi had safely arrived. Aang was on babysitting duty. Not for Bumi, who Aang considered to be his full time sidekick, but for Zuko, who could only watch his wife’s agony for so long until he needed a dad to dad pep talk. 

Thankfully, Zuko managed to collect himself in time to meet his baby girl in her first moments. Mai had suggested the name Izumi, and Zuko immediately knew that it was right when he saw her tiny red face. She captivated his heart from her first breath and– after a brief embrace from Mai– Zuko was the first person to truly hold her. When the nurses took her for her health check, Zuko almost refused. Looking at her perfect little face, he realized that he could never become his father. He swore to himself on that day to always be by her side when she needed him.

— — 

Zuko gave up on trying to sleep and began to pace in his room. Without Mai, his bed was too cold and too big. Michi, his mother in-law, had insisted that she and Izumi attend her family reunion. Zuko had been invited, but his advisors had already scheduled the large annual conference of the provincial governors for the same weekend. He didn’t want to sabotage Mai’s opportunity to see her family, but he had desperately wanted her to stay.

And little Izumi was only four. Would she be sad when he wasn’t there to wake up with her at sunrise as he had been for the past four years? Since his job and his nature as fire-bender necessitated early mornings, when Izzy was a baby they decided that Mai would be in charge of bed time and night-time feedings and Zuko would take over in the wee hours of the morning. This arrangement worked surprisingly well, and continued long after Izzy started eating solid food. Zuko loved that he always had a few hours with his daughter. In the early days, he had a crib installed in his office so he could get a start on the his work after she fell back asleep. Now she was big enough to run through his forms with him. Zuko didn’t want to put any pressure on her to be bender or not, so he would alternate between Firebending forms and other martial arts. Would she practice them without him? She didn’t have any of them committed to memory but she would often try to show off to Mai with gusto. He smiled at the thought.

But he quickly frowned again, knowing he wouldn’t be there to see. “Ugh!” he grabbed his hair and berated himself: “Don’t be such a coward! You’ve slept on the road with nothing but a stolen ostrich horse. You can handle two nights with them.”

He walked over to Mai’s vanity and sat. He picked up a book that she recently finished reading and thumbed through the pages. Then, he picked up her jar of perfume and sprayed it experimentally. He inhaled her signature scent and sighed. 

Truthfully, he was worried about her well-being away from him too. He wasn’t arrogant enough to assume that she couldn’t go-on without his presence for a few measly days, but he knew how her mother and grandparents could be. Even when she was little, he recalled how Michi would nitpick at her posture or her expression or her word choice. He was ashamed that it took him so long to realize just how conditional her parental affection was. 

In retrospect, it made sense why she loved her uncle just as much as he loved his. When he first met the Warden of the Boiling Rock, he didn’t quite see the appeal. The man was terrifying and brutish and he had a nasty power-complex. But it all fit into place when he saw them together at the wedding. Michi had been chiding Mai for getting her wedding slippers dusty during their first dance, and Zuko was about to ask her to leave. He couldn’t believe that she chose that moment to undercut her daughter, but the Warden stepped in. “Oh knock it off! This is her palace, not a prison yard. How about you go get a drink while I dance with my niece.” And just like that, Mai’s super traditional and stuck-up uncle led her in the camelephant strut. They were both a bit clumsy, especially Mai since her robes were constantly in the way, but their rare and radiant smiles made the moment perfect.

Aunt Mura was another advocate for Mai, but her support was more quiet and diplomatic. A hand on the shoulder here, and words of encouragement there. Mura was so much more gentle and less acerbic than Michi, that it was easy to forget that she had been raised with the same unfair expectations. She approached her sister with more empathy than Zuko was willing to extend.

Zuko hoped that the pair of them would keep Michi in line. Unfortunately, from his limited contact he knew that Mai’s grandparents might also pose a problem. He had a sudden and unpleasant vision of Mai’s grandmother and Michi making comments about Izumi’s behavior. He gritted his teeth. He knew Mai wouldn’t stand for it, but it set him on edge. 

Mai had really come into her own as a Fire Lady. She was always very calm in a crisis, but she spoke passionately about the issues that moved her. She would let her excitement show when her projects came to fruition. She learned how to be vulnerable in order to build trust with their citizens.

His biggest fear was that she would return, and, after their separation, some of that precious progress would be undone. And that Izumi’s light would shine a little dimmer in turn.

He stood from the vanity and shook his head, as if he could dislodge the poisonous thoughts. Normally when something caused him to worry, he would talk about it with his wife. Now he was at a loss. Maybe a nice walk in the cool night air would clear his mind. He could visit Druk in the stables. He muttered to himself as he made his way, “She’s an adult. She doesn’t need you breathing down her neck.” 

— — 

Mai was on the verge of tears. She needed Zuko desperately. 

They had left early that morning in an airship for the Southern region of the Fire Nation where her grandparents lived, and Mai was cautiously optimistic. Since she woke up so early, Izzy slept for the two hours of travel time to the house. It was a lovely opportunity to talk to Tom-Tom, who– at the age of 17– was often busy with school these days.

But everything changed when they landed. Her grandparents greeted her formally, but more warmly than they ever had. And she soon discovered why: this was her first visit to their hometown as the Fire Lady. When she entered their home, she was dismayed to find a throne and a receiving line! Thankfully, Tom-Tom offered to watch Izumi and get her some food, while Mai was forced to meet the Mayor and all of her grandparents' friends. After an hour of accepting well-wishes, backhanded compliments, and personal requests, he uncle arrived. He walked up to her confidently and insisted that she and Izumi take tea with him and Mura. Apparently being the Warden of the Boiling Rock gave him the authority to terminate her indentured servitude.

Tea was a brief affair. However she re-entered the gaggle of distant relatives and vaguely important people with her uncle on her arm, and Tom-Tom again stepped in to watch Izumi as she played with the other children. Mai loved her little brother to bits, but this experience made her appreciate him all the more. She was thirteen when he was born, so she felt fiercely protective of him when he was little. And he was thirteen when Izzy was born, and she could see him return all of that love and shower it on her. The thought made her emotional. 

Dinner came late, well past Izumi’s normal bedtime, but it was a blessedly private affair. Her grandparents; her mother, aunt, and uncle; and herself, Tom-Tom, and Izumi. Oh, and the Mayor, but he spent a significant portion of the night wooing Aunt Mura so he was easy enough to tune out. Uncle showed Izzy magic tricks with his napkin, and Mai smiled. She had nearly forgotten how he used to do the same for her. He would have been a good father if he hadn’t chosen such a demanding profession. She regretted that she had only seen him a handful of times since her wedding.

Mai’s grandparents kept her in conversation. To her surprise, they praised Zuko and his reforms highly. At first she was pleased, but then her mood began to sour. 

“I don’t know how you pulled a match like that. You were always so sullen as a girl,” her grandfather remarked.

Mai felt her mother’s keen stare and tried to laugh it off. “Well… he always said he liked how I hated the world.”

Her grandfather frowned and she worried she misspoke, but her grandmother interjected, “Oh happiness is overrated. True contentment comes with status. You did well to act in a manner pleasing to him.”

Mai felt her stomach turn. She never acted differently for Zuko. He challenged her preconceived notions sometimes and helped her see different points of view, but she didn’t blindly follow him like an animal. Was that how she appeared? Izumi wasn’t hearing this was she? She looked at her daughter, but, no, Uncle was telling her a story about a prison riot. Somehow, that was probably a healthier message for her impressionable child.

Michi joined the conversation, “Oh mother, it’s all thanks to you! I took your advice and got her into the palace early. Her friendship with Princess Azula was most beneficial. She was the natural choice to be Zuko’s consort.”

Mai felt suddenly nauseous. Her friendship with Azula was strained in a lot of ways, but it was built on a genuine foundation. They had both loved sparring as girls, along with Ty Lee of course. They would sneak from the stuffy functions her mother dragged her to. Michi couldn’t take credit for any of that, and she certainly couldn't take credit for her love with Zuko.

Mai gripped the edge of the table, prepared to tell her off. “Actually!” she began confidently, and all of the eyes in the room turned toward her. Apparently her Uncle had finished his story and Mura had politely rebuffed the Mayor. But it was the full and undivided attention of her grandparents that got to her. She remembered why silence and falsity were her friends. Mai quickly thought of an excuse for her outburst. “Zuko wanted me to tell you how sorry he is that he couldn’t make it. He sends his love.” 

“Darling, told us that before.” her grandmother replied. “He is the Fire Lord, you should not expect him to attend your family affairs.”

Mai wilted. “Of course, grandmother. But he asked me to tell you, so I wanted to relay his words.”

Her grandfather smiled, “Yes, a good wife echoes her husband.” 

Mai snuck another look at Izumi, praying that she was not listening. Luck seemed to be on her side, as the little princess was absorbed and– covered in– the noodles on her plate. 

Mai got them out of there as quickly as she deemed socially acceptable  and washed the noodles off of her little girl.. She cursed herself for her cowardice. She was the Fire Lady! She could have left whenever she damn well pleased, but she turned into a child the second she entered that house. 

To make matters worse, as soon as she and Izumi entered their chambers the little girl began having a meltdown.

It started innocently enough: “Where’s dada?”

Mai pursed her lips. She had tried explaining to Izumi before they left that daddy couldn’t come with them this time, but the thought was unimaginable to her. They had always traveled as a family, and she had never had to sleep without a goodnight kiss from daddy before Mai began the bedtime routine.

Mai tried again to explain, “I’m sorry turtleduck, but he’s not here right now. He had to stay at the palace and run the country. We’ll see him in two more sleeps.”

Izumi teared up. “Not here?”

Mai held her, “No. He’s not here, but he’s safe and so are we. You’ll see him soon.”

Then the wailing began in earnest and it did not stop for what felt like hours but was probably minutes. Mai tried to be soothing, but firm. For better or worse, she couldn’t capitulate to her daughter’s request this time. No airships or secure transports were running at this hour. And Zuko would probably spontaneously combust if she rented an animal and attempted the overnight journey alone. 

Mai felt the tears prick in her eyes too. Since her parents were so strict, she had no gauge for how to react to this situation. Was she being too indulgent by letting her daughter cry? How could she stop it? What could she say to make her happy again? All at once, the floodgates of self-loathing had opened. She was the co-ruler of a country, why did she let her grandparents walk all over her in front of her daughter? And how could she foist Izumi on to her baby brother all day? It was his family reunion too. 

She needed Zuko. He would calm Izzy down. Spirits, he would calm her down. 

There was a knock at the door. Shit! Their rooms were in the farthest part of the manor to give the Fire Lady privacy, but someone had obviously overheard and complained. There would be rumors all over the town about how bad of a parent she was. Or it was her guards checking in. The poor guys probably wanted to make sure she was okay. She tucked Izumi behind her, and palmed a knife– just to be safe– and opened the door.

For a second, she thought her brain was deceiving her into seeing what she wanted to see.

“DADA!” Izumi screamed happily.

She ran around Mai and jumped into his arms. “Hello turtleduck.” He laughed and kissed her head as he made his way into the room. “I hope I’m not intruding on girl time.” He smiled at Mai.

She took a deep breath to try to compose herself and smiled back at her husband. “Of course, not. Our princess was just demanding your presence.” 

“Oh!” Zuko seemed genuinely surprised. “Well then, I’m glad I arrived just in time.” He tucked Izumi into her bed, across the room from Mai’s– and now Zuko’s– larger one. She must have been exhausted from her early travels, because, as soon as she knew that both of her parents were in the room, she fell asleep. Mai marveled at her instant calm.

Zuko stroked her hair a few times and then turned his attention to his wife. He walked over to her and delicately pulled her into an embrace. “I’m such a loser,” he whispered, face buried in her neck, and it felt so out-of-the-blue that she nearly snorted.

“What on earth are you talking about? I need more information to know if I disagree,” she retorted.

“Hey!” he protested quietly, and pinched her arm, but she could feel his smile on her skin. His breath tickled as he spoke: “I couldn’t handle one night away from you both. Let alone two.”

Mai caressed his cheek, and guided his face so they were looking into each other's eyes. “Then I must be a loser too because I was about to cry before you got here. Izumi was sobbing because she missed you so much and my family–” she stopped abruptly.

Zuko took hold of her hands and she could feel the fire in his eyes. “What did they say?”

Mai slumped her shoulders and allowed herself to lean against him. “It’s not important.” That dreaded touch of apathy colored her voice, but then, but a glimmer of broke through. “It’s really not important because you’re here now.”

Zuko wrapped his arms around her and kissed her passionately. He finally pulled away, “At least give me a list of names.”

Mai chuckled quietly, she didn’t want to wake their daughter. “The usual suspects.”

That told Zuko all he needed to know. The pair went about their nightly routines, before climbing into bed. Zuko longed to kiss her more, and fill her with reassurance, but he was prevented by the presence of their daughter. He settled for wrapping his arms tightly around Mai and burying his face in her hair.

But suddenly she broke away and sat up. Zuko pouted up at her.

“Wait! Wait a minute! How did you get here?” she looked at him in awe. 

He smiled cheekily. “You know I’ve been practicing flying with Druk.”

Mai crossed her arms. “You did not fly him all the way here from the Caldera! His previous flights were twenty minutes at most. My poor baby is probably exhausted.”

Zuko laughed. Druk may have been bonded to him by the sacred fire, but the dragon was bonded to Mai by something else. The two were so protective of each other that it was almost comical. 

“Oh don’t worry,” Zuko reassured her, and pulled her back into his arms. “Your big old baby loved it, and your family’s servants gave him the best room in their stables.”

Mai huffed. “Okay, but if he’s sore tomorrow, then I’m using you as a pin cushion.”

“It would be my greatest honor.”

Mai rolled her eyes, but she snuggled in closer.

— — 

The next day, Mai checked on Druk first thing. To her own surprise, she was the first member of her immediate family awake. She left Zuko a note. (Her notes always began, “I don’t know how to tell you this, but I’m leaving,” even if she was just taking the five-minute trip to her favorite fire flakes stand. It had become an inside joke between them.) 

Druk truly was in a great mood. Mai’s family ordered the finest cuts from the butcher as a special treat. If there was one thing she could count on her grandparents to do, it was suck up to royalty.

She stopped by the kitchens and put in a special request, and then she made her way to the airship service. By the time she arrived back at the house, breakfast had begun. She slowly took her seat, allowing her mother's glare to linger.

“Young lady,” he grandfather began. “It is bad form to arrive late to a meal. “Especially when royalty is present.”

Mai pretended to be chastened. “Oh, I’m so sorry grandfather. But I wanted to put on a surprise for my dearest husband.” She strongly emphasized the word. “As you and Grandmother were saying, such a visitation to my family is quite beneath him actually.” Zuko whipped his head to his in-laws. Mai could tell he was seething, but this was her moment to reclaim power. She knew he would follow her lead, and so she continued, “As such, I thought it would be a lovely surprise if we all took a trip to the nearby southern beaches.”

Mai’s grandmother scoffed. “Those aren’t nearby. You’d have to take an airship to get there.”

Mai nodded, “Yes and I chartered one. Unfortunately, it’s quite small. They only had ten open seats.”

Mai’s mother tried to cut the tension. “Oh well… That’s still enough for all of us, and we can even bring the Mayor. Perhaps the day can be salvaged, but you really should have asked your grandparents before doing this.” 

Michi didn’t want to look bad in front of her parents, and Mai almost regretted what she was about to do. She replied: “You’re not taking into account the guards. We’ll need four to be safe I would say. I’m so very sorry. I assumed that grandfather and grandmother would be too weary to travel so far, so I didn’t list them on the tickets. And Uncle and Auntie have so few opportunities to see Izumi. I hope you understand, Mother.”

Michi flushed red, but she wouldn’t dare have a dramatic and drawn out argument with Mai so publicly. The Warden chuckled to himself, “Now this is an escape plan I can get behind.”

Zuko looked at his wife with a newfound admiration. He knew there would come a time when they were separated again, but he did not want to dwell on it. In this moment, they were together. And they were stronger because of it.

#maikoweek2024 #maiko week 2024 #atla maiko #atla mai #atla zuko #maiko #mai #zuko #atla #avatar the last airbender #mai x zuko #zuko x mai #Michi #Tom-Tom #Aunt Mura #Mai's family #Mai is a good mom #Zuko is a good dad

[munsonsmixtapes]

Teach Me

Steve x fem!bi!reader

word count: 1,671

cw: mention of pregnancy

Part Eight: The Final Lesson

Six Years Later

“Higher,” you commanded as Eddie and Robin hung the banner. It read “Happy birthday, Callie!” and as far as you were concerned, this was going to be the happiest birthday she ever had. She was finally entering her teen years, the age you were when she was born and you felt the need to throw her a giant birthday party since it was such a big age and because she had never had a party before.

You also thought she deserved something for enduring all the bullshit with your parents. She had been so brave and strong her whole life and you knew that a little party wouldn’t make up for the trauma, but you still hoped she enjoyed it. It consisted of her two favorite things: Star Wars and Spider-Man, and there had been a freezer full of ice cream sandwiches that you were willing to let her have as many as she wanted since it was her special day.

“Everything looks great, honey,” your husband, Steve, rested a hand on your shoulder as he looked around the heavily decorated backyard of the home you shared.

You had only dated for a year before Steve popped the question and you got married a couple of years after that. In that time, you and Steve bought an apartment together and fixed up a room for Callie so she could come live with you and get out of the hell-hole the two of you were supposed to call home. Your parents were very eager to sign their rights away so you could become her full-time guardian and that said everything you needed to know.

The three of you moved into a giant house twenty minutes outside from Hawkins and you couldn’t have been happier. There had been nothing keeping any of you there, except Eddie, Wayne and Robin but your house was a short distance from them so they came over every week and the six of you had dinner together like the giant family you were.

“Do you think she’s gonna like it?” You knew for sure that she would, but couldn’t help but worry about it. Because if you didn’t worry, who would? It didn’t feel right to be calm. You had spent the majority of your life worrying about everything, what was one more thing?

“It’s got all of her favorite things, of course she’s going to love it.” Steve’s voice was soft and reassuring like always and you immediately felt yourself calm down as he was speaking to you.

“But what if-” Steve rested his hands on your shoulders, looking you directly in your eyes.

“Honey, I know you want this to be perfect, but you need to stop stressing. It isn’t good for the baby.” You both looked down at your very pregnant stomach and you just smiled, knowing that she was just a product of how much you and Steve loved each other. “Now go sit down and I’ll handle this, okay?”

You mumbled a few curse words under your breath before heading to one of the chairs that was at the table that was set up on the patio. You sat gently as Steve handed you a cup filled with lemonade along with a chocolate chip cookie that was sitting on a napkin.

He had been so good to you throughout your entire pregnancy, always there when you needed him. Whether you needed him to help you up from a chair or to put on your shoes, he was right there by your side and you couldn’t have been more grateful for him.

You were due any day now and even though the doctor insisted that you rest, you’d have been damned if your little sister didn’t have the best fucking party in history. So there you were, a week until your due date, running around, getting last minute things for the party when you should have been in your bed, watching reruns of your favorite show.

Robin, Eddie, and Wayne had wanted to say something about you being so active, but Steve had advised them against it. Pregnancy had made you very irritable so it was best for them to just keep quiet until the baby came. Besides, you had already gotten an earful from Steve and didn’t need anymore criticism.

You drank your lemonade and ate your cookie like Steve had instructed while he went over your checklist to make sure everything was done exactly the way you liked it. He knew exactly how much you wanted everything to be perfect and he was going to make that happen no matter what it took. You had always taken over everything and the pregnancy had made you tired that Steve felt like it was his turn to do something for you.

Your ears perked up when you heard the front door open and you hurried to get out of your chair to greet Callie and Steve and Wayne rushed to help you up. Once you were out of the seat, Steve rested his hand on the small of your back while he led you to stand right in front of the banner, Robin and Wayne joining the two of you. Eddie and Callie stepped through the open sliding glass door, a giant stuffed elephant in her arms.

“Happy birthday!” the five you exclaimed and she let out a squeal as she looked around the decked out backyard at all of her favorite people. This was definitely the best day of her life and she couldn’t have been more grateful for her sister who she knew had put it all together.

Eddie had kept her occupied by taking her to the fair that had come into town while the rest of you set up the party. By the large bag of popcorn in one hand and the elephant in her other, you could assume that she had a good time. Her face lit up as she realized what was going on and she made a beeline for you, hugging you the best she could with your protruding stomach.

“Thank you, y/n!” She squealed, squeezing you tighter.

“Anything for you, bug,” you replied, your hand giving her head a scratch. “Happy birthday.” She finally let go of you and went around to give everyone else hugs, saving Steve for last. She didn’t really like him at first, feeling protective of you, but now that she had seen how much he cared for the two of you, she decided that he wasn’t half bad. What she’d never tell anyone was that she had a soft spot for him. She managed to have him wrapped more around her finger than Eddie and she took full advantage of that.

You watched your husband and sister embrace and felt yourself tear up at the sweet moment they were sharing. She was whispering something into his ear and you wondered what she was saying that was making him laugh so much. They definitely had a unique relationship, more like siblings as opposed to uncle and niece, but their dynamic never failed to get a laugh out of you. You loved seeing them argue over frivolous things with such seriousness, wondering how they could keep straight faces.

“Happy birthday, Cal,” he gave her back a little rub before letting go.

“Thanks, Steven,” she replied and he just rolled his eyes at the dumb nickname.

The party was very much a hit with the five of you enjoying your food and engaging in conversation. Callie was having the time of her life, opening her presents, letting out little gasps every single thing. You leaned your head on Steve’s shoulder, your heart warming, watching your now grown up sister enjoying the party that had been just for her. She was gushing over the Darth Vader helmet Wayne had gotten for her, trying her best impression, getting laughs from everyone.

You looked around the backyard and smiled to yourself, never imagining that that wears where you would have been six years prior, surrounded by every single person who you considered to be your family, the happiest you had ever been. And it had all been thanks to the man next to you. He had shown you exactly the kind of life you had deserved and you let yourself have it, no longer thinking that you didn’t deserve it.

Your thoughts were cut off by a loud splash hitting the concrete. You looked at all of the eyes on you and looked down to see that water had come from you. Your water had broken and of course, the baby couldn’t have waited just a few hours until the party was over and it was no longer Callie’s birthday anymore. Just your luck.

“Eds, grab the bag from the nursery,” Steve called out and in one swift motion, he picked you up and rushed around the house, opening the gate, in too much of a rush to close it behind him. He paused when he didn’t have his keys, but the car miraculously unlocked and he looked up to see Robin standing in the front doorway, jingling the aforementioned keys. Steve opened the door and gently set you inside before catching the keys that Robin had tossed his way.

“I swear to god, you’d lose your head if it wasn’t attached to you,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “We’ll see you at the hospital, dingus.”

As soon as Eddie got the bag into the backseat, Steve got into the driver’s seat of the car and quickly cranked the car, pulling out of the driveway to head to the hospital. In just a few hours, you were going to be parents. You had never had the title before, but Callie gave you plenty of practice. You were practically her mother, the only thing you hadn’t done was actually give birth to her. Neither of you had any idea what you were doing, but you’d figure it out. You always did.

#stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x bi reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fluff

[bugs013]

“Bruises? Really?”

Janis ‘Imi’ike x fem!reader

Not my pics/gif

Warnings- a bit of suggestive content but no smut, kissing, hickeys, Reader is short tempered, i believe that’s all but correct me if i missed anything!

A/N- this is a part two of “she’s my girlfriend.” It’s better if you read it first! This is kinda short but this will become a series so stay tuned for a part three!

“Guess who’s ungrounded!” You said, walking up to Janis and Damian who were sitting at the tree the three of you normally sat at. “What? How? I thought you were grounded for two weeks?” Janis asks confused but happy. “I was but i got an A in my calculus class finally so mom and dad agreed i can be ungrounded early.” You said as you sat down next to Janis, getting a kiss on the cheek from her as you did. “You got an A? Who’d you cheat off of babe?” Damian says, partially joking though he had a point, you didn’t normally get A’s unless Janis helped you, which she always does of course. You roll your eyes playfully. “Oh shut up.” He laughs. “So i can come over after school?” Janis buts in. “Of course!” You say happily, Janis hadn’t been able to come over since you got grounded. “Great!” You kissed her then rest your head on her shoulder as you watch her draw.

~~~~

You and Janis have been at your house for a few hours, you did some homework together first just to get it out of the way before then you cuddled up and watched movies, the innocent cuddle time slowly turned into a steamy make out session.

A few hickeys start to form on your neck as Janis sucks and bites her way down to your collarbone, it wasn’t until your shirt was halfway off when you suddenly heard. “Y/N?” Your moms voice shouted as she was almost to your door. Shit she was home already? Both yours and Janis eyes widened before Janis quickly hopped off of you and got back in her starting position next to you as you fixed your clothes. “Hey Y/N- oh hey Janis.” Your mom spoke as she walked through the door. “Hi.” Janis says quietly, both your breathing still a bit shaky. “Me and your dad are going out so you’re alone tonight, money for pizza is on the counter alright?” She says before she the notices the marks on your neck, she squints. “Did you get in a fight again?” She asks sternly. “Huh? What no?” She walks over and points at your neck, your heart skipped a beat, realizing what she meant. “Oh- OH, it’s bruises, from the fight with Regina? Remember?” You said nervously. “It’s been a week and some days, they’re still there?” You shrug. “I guess some take longer than others to go away.” She gave a confused look but just shakes her head and tells the two of you good night before leaving.

Janis busts out laughing the minute your mom was gone. “Bruises? Really?” She laughed. “That’s the most cliché excuse ever!” You rolled your eyes and shove her playfully. “Oh shut up, it’s your fault you can’t stay off of me.” She laughs before laying back on top of you again and kissing you. “Well sorry I’ve missed you, you know you missed me too.” She smirks. You grin up at her. “Of course i missed you.” You kiss her. “Now keep going.” You say with a smirk. She smirks back. “Hm, what do you say?” “Please?” You say, pulling her closer if it’s even possible. “Mhm, you’re lucky i need you as much as you need me.” She says then goes right back to where she left off.

~~~~

“She’s such a bitch.” You said, glaring at Regina from down the hall. “Girl, you better relax before Janis-” Damian starts before he’s interrupted by Janis. “Before Janis what?” Your eyes snap over to hers and she can already tell something is up. “What happened?” She said, standing in front of you now. “Nothing, i’m fine.” She rolled her eyes. “Yeah good luck, i’m out!” Damian said then walked away. “Baby come on, we said no lying remember?” You sighed. “It’s Regina.” “What happened? Did she do something? Say something?” You glanced at the blonde before looking back at your girlfriend again. “She saw me in the bathroom last period. She was just being her annoying self and i was so tempted but i didn’t touch her or even speak to her.” Janis looked a little surprised. “You didn’t even speak to her? Really? Not a single word?” You shrug. “I made my tongue bleed a bit from biting down on it but i still managed to keep it under control.” “Wow,” She hugs you tightly and kisses you. “I’m proud of you.” You laughed a bit. “Proud of me? Babe it’s not that serious.” “No, no hush because it’s very serious! You kept your anger under control and that’s a big step for you! I’m so proud of you love!” You roll your eyes but that doesn’t stop your smiling, you liked hearing her say she was proud of you, you didn’t hear that often so it felt really nice. “Now come on, let’s go to lunch, it’s pizza day!” She said taking your hand.

Lunch went by pretty normally until suddenly a new girl walked into the cafeteria, the poor girl walked around and tried to find somewhere to sit but failed, she ends up going to the bathroom and hiding in a bathroom stall. The three of you share a certain look before you silently decide to get up and go get the girl.

As you walked into the bathroom Janis looked under the stalls until she saw the one she was in. Damian knocks on the door. “You ok in there?” “Uh, yeah?” Cady says. “‘Cause we’re afraid you’re either doing drugs or having a toilet baby.” The door opens and Cady sees the three of you standing in front of the door. “Hi! I’m Janis!” Janis says with a smile and Cady gives a little awkward smile. “This is Damian, he’s almost too gay to function.” “But i push through, i manage.” Damian says. “And this is Y/N, my girlfriend, she’s nice just don’t get on her bad side.” You nod with a light smile. Cady smiles a bit back at the three of you. “You’re…Cady right?” “It’s Cady.” She corrects Janis pronunciation. “Yeah i’m gonna call you Cady.” The three of you then walk out and Cady follows behind.

The now four of you stand in the cafeteria, you Janis and Damian take turns explaining the different clicks when finally the last one was left. “And, who’s at that table?” Cady asks looking at the plastics table. “Oh no no no, we call them the plastics ‘cause they’re shiny, fake and hard.” Damian explained. “Yeah, that’s Gretchen Wieners, she knows everything about everybody.” Janis states pointing at the girl. “That’s why her hairs so big,” Damian starts and you lean in and whisper dramatically with air quotes knowing what Damian would say next. “It’s full of secrets.” Damian narrowed his eyes are you for stealing his line and you just laugh, Janis shakes her head at the two of you. “And that’s Karen Shetty, she’s the dumbest person you’ll ever meet.” “One time i saw her put a d in the word orange.” Damian adds. “Now what table do you fit at?” You said, you kinda just wanted to go back to normal, having a new person in the group just felt odd to you, it’s always been you, Janis and Damian, that’s just how it was. “Can i just sit with you guys?” Cady asks which shocked all of you, you looked at Janis and Damian who shared the same confused look as you. “I…I actually don’t know, we’ve never been asked that question before. Could she?” Janis says with a confused expression, you shrug and look at Damian, he didn’t say anything for a moment then he says. “We are very exclusive. But i think we can make an exception.” Cady smiles then of course Regina’s heels come click clacking into the cafeteria. You roll you eyes and walked over to your usual lunch table, Janis and Damian soon followed leaving Cady to meet the queen bee alone. “You,” Cady gives a confused look. “Yeah you, come here.” Cady looks back at the three of you, you kept your head down but Janis and Damian tried to usher Cady to stay but of course she went right on over to the plastics. You scoffed as you looked up to see Cady walking away. “Welp, she’s a lost cause.”

~~~~

Later that day you happened to get caught up in a classroom talking to a teacher about some dumb missing assignment you have. Janis texted and said her, Damian and Cady will be waiting outside for you. When you finally got out of the classroom you somehow ran into someone while texting Janis, odd because almost everyone was out if the school by now so who did you hit? “Excuse you?” Oh great. Regina George. You roll your eyes and started to walk away but she grabbed your arm, that pissed you off. “Leaving already?” You jerk your arm away. “Don’t touch me.” She smirks. “Aw why not, you love it, a pretty, popular girl like me touching a lesbian, freak like you? You’re probably hot for me huh Y/N?” Your blood boiled, you tried ,you really did, to take deep breaths and walk away but you couldn’t, you got in her face. “Ok you’re gonna listen to me and you’re gonna get this through your thick fucking skull. I hate you, i fucking hate your guts. You will leave me and my friends alone or i will break that pretty face of yours understood?” Regina couldn’t lie, that look in your eyes, the way your voice changed, it was kinda scary, though she tried to hide it, rolling her eyes. “Whatever, i do what i want.” She the walked away. You let out a sigh as she walked away, you honestly scared yourself sometimes.

“Babe! There you are, what took so long?” Janis says walking up to you and wrapping her arms around you. “Hey, just some missing work I’m supposed to get done.” You shrug. “It’s nothing.” Janis could tell something was up but she didn’t question it, yet.

#janis ‘imi’ike #janis ‘imi’ike x reader #mean girls 2024 #auli’i cravalho #mean girls

[weneeya]

hi! I read a few of your haikyuu fics and thought they were really cute, and I had an idea for a fic. what about some kageyama/reader fluff where the reader is a competitive swimmer and struggles with pre-meet anxiety and he tries to help her calm down? :)

trying to help w/ kageyama m.list | rules

note. hi!! thank you sm omg i'm so happy to read that you like my writings about haikyuu i could cry thank you for your request!! always great to write with my boy

You had been a swimmer for a few years already, but you never learnt how to deal with the anxiety that was messing with your mind each time you had a competition, or something like that. It was a bit complicated for you to take care of this sometimes, but you were kind of used to it. No one knew how to help you, and you didn’t want any help anyway. Until him. 

Kageyama Tobio was a boy you met in highschool. He was part of the volleyball club, and he became one of the main players during his first year. It was quite impressive, you had to admit it ; even if you knew nothing about volleyball. You talked with him a few times at different moments, but nothing more. 

But slowly, you and Tobio grew closer to each other. And after some time, you started to go out with him. It was a bit complicated at first, because the poor boy didn’t know how a relationship was working ; but he was making a lot of effort and you loved this about him. He was trying to take care of you as much as you were doing with him, and it was making him more adorable in your eyes. 

You were currently alone outside, not so far from the pool. You were trying to breathe as slowly as possible, while you were hiding your face between your hands. You had a competition in a few days, and the usual anxiety had made its comeback in no time. It was getting worse lately, and you started to worry about not being able to control it as you wanted when it needed to be gone. 

You heard a few steps coming closer to you, but you decided to ignore them. Maybe the person was just passing by, or else they would understand that you wanted to stay alone. But when you heard the voice coming from next to you, your heart almost stopped. 

“Hey, are you okay? Is something wrong?” It was Tobio, and the slightly worried tone of his voice broke your heart. You put your hands away, slowly turning your head to look in his direction. A soft smile appeared on your lips, and quickly sat back correctly. 

“Tobio, sweetie! Everything’s fine, don’t worry,” you started to say, and the little frown on his face made you understand that he wasn’t believing you even a little. He wasn’t the bed at reading people’s emotions, but you were obviously anything but fine right now. 

“It’s your competition again?” He softly asked as he sat right next to you, slightly tilting his head to the side to keep looking at you even from here. Your only reaction was to sigh slowly, and Tobio almost thought he did something wrong. Until you rested your head against his shoulder, your gaze fixed on the pool in front of you. 

“I’m just so stressed… What if I ruin everything?” You started to say, and your voice got a little shaky with those words. Kageyama simply wrapped an arm around your shoulders, holding you close to him. He wasn’t the best at this, but he hated to see you being like this. 

“Impossible. You are one of the best out there, I don’t see how you could ruin anything.” You slowly raised your eyes to look into his blue gaze, and you could see how serious he seemed to be. Tobio wasn’t the type to lie, because he was bad at it, even if it was to help someone. So you knew that he thought each one of his words. 

He kept on making compliments and stating facts about your talent and how good you were at what you were doing, and you slowly felt the anxiety fade away. While he was talking, you put your hand on his cheek before leaving a kiss on the other one. You looked at him and a soft smile appeared over your lips. 

“Thank you Tobio, you’re the best,” you said before resting your head on his shoulder once again. He felt his heart skip a beat, and a blush ran over his cheeks without you being able to see it. He simply rested his head on top of yours, trying to ease his poor heart. You really were going to kill him one day, but he loved that.

thank you for reading!!

#kageyama tobio #haikyuu kageyama #hq kageyama #kageyama x reader #kageyama headcanons #kageyama hcs #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu hcs #hq #hq x reader #hq headcanons #hq hcs

[creamecream]

“You stink at being a dad!”

“Poor Marci, are you sad?”

“Not as sad as you without your powers,

I didn’t come to fight, for once do something right,”

“I steal souls, were you expecting flowers?”

“I only need ya’ cause I came here for something!”

“I’ve given you everything by giving you nothing!

I did what I had to do,”

“No, you only did what’s best for you,”

“Well you could learn a thing or two, when push comes to shove, you do what you gotta do,”

#marceline found out where eliza was and came to get her daughter #she’s not coming back mom sorry yelling at grandpa is not helping #marceline is very much like ‘give her back! you can’t just take everything from me dad!’ #he didn’t make her come but he is keeping her away from the rest of her family #doesn’t help that marceline when she finds eliza goes ‘alright time to come home enough of this!’ #she does not believe her about jericho nope couldn’t be her little boy #need to draw jericho on his own more but right now have more eliza #adventure time #finnceline #fan character #fan child #eliza #wip

[sunrizef1]

Girl back home

Pairing: Logan Sargeant x wife!reader

Warnings: cursing (I think)

Authors note: this took forever, but now I can actually work on whiv now that I’ve finished this

Summary: Everyone keeps trying to set Logan up, but no one bothers to ask if he's already got a girl (surprise! he does!)

Word Count: 4.2k (jesus)

“What about her? she’s pretty,” Alex asks as he points at the five hundredth model to walk past the Williams garage that day.

If it hadn’t been his home race, Logan might have walked away an hour ago when Alex’s pointing started but instead, he stayed, choosing to endure Alex’s unrelenting matchmaking.

“No, Alex. I’ve already said no to about 50 other girls you’ve pointed out, what makes you think she’d be different,” Logan groans, his head leaning back to rest against the wall behind them.

Alex purses his lips, a frown on his face, “Why won’t you let me get you a girlfriend?”

Logan pauses to stare at the ceiling of the garage for a second before he turns his head to face the man next to him, “I don’t need a girlfriend.”

“Yeah sure man, I’ve seen you stare quietly at a wall by yourself more times than you’d probably admit. If that doesn’t scream “I need a girlfriend” then I don’t know what does,” Alex shrugs before turning back to face away from his friend, his hand coming back up to point at a pretty-faced blonde girl making her way past the garage, even smiling when she locks eyes with Logan, “Ooh what about her? She seems to like you!”

Logan just hums in response, his eyes closing as he leaves Alex to talk to himself.

In reality, Logan truly didn’t need a girlfriend. He had something even better, a wife. Who also happened to be you. You had met when you were kids and had been in love ever since. You liked to joke that it was love at first sight but every time you said it, Logan would wonder how much of a joke it really was.

You had been there for every step in his career, through the wins and the losses, through karting to Formula racing. So when he proposed after the end of the f3 season in 2020, no one close to you was really surprised.

You got married shortly after, neither one of you wanting a big, flashy wedding. Instead, the wedding was small but still nice, just some close friends and family in attendance. Even Oscar had been there and he made sure to reference the event to everyone who wouldn’t understand when around Logan. He loved to talk about the “party” Logan had in 2020 to the other drivers who, frankly, had no idea what he meant.

When he got his move to Formula One, you were over the moon for him. You didn’t worry about long-distance. You had made it work in the past and you both had total confidence in each other to make it work. You continued your degree in engineering and he continued his career in racing. You tried to make it to races when school would let you, which wasn’t often, and he was more than happy to fly you out when he could.

Logan genuinely loved you more than anything. With that being said, this meant that he did not have the time of day for anyone trying to set him up with the Instagram model of the week who had decided to visit a garage.

But at the same time, he also didn’t feel the pressure to share your marriage with anyone. He didn’t really know any of the other drivers very well and if they wanted to know more about him, they could ask. It’s just that no one ever did.

Except, it seems, when they wanted to set him up.

“Hey, Logan!” A British voice calls out to the American, whose head shoots up at the uncommon voice.

“What’s up, mate?” The blonde asks Lando, pocketing the phone where he had just been texting you to ask about your engineering final.

Lando grins and places a hand on the American's shoulder, raising his voice to be heard above the sounds of the paddock, “I was talking to Oscar and he mentioned something about your love life and something about you being lonely, I don’t really remember what he said but anyway, I’m talking to this girl and she has this friend who I think would be perfect for you.”

Logan’s face drops at the brunette's words, a frown replacing his smile, “I’m cool Lando, thanks though.”

Lando furrows his eyebrows, disbelief written on his features, “You sure, mate? She’s sooooo fine.”

Logan just nods his head in response, backing away from the McLaren driver slowly, “Yeah I’m sure Lando, you have fun thinking about your girlfriend’s friend though.”

Lando doesn’t seem to catch the diss as he just glances up and down at Logan before shaking his head and turning on his heel to head back to his garage. Logan sighs before taking his phone back out of his pocket to see another text from you. A grin breaks out on his face as he sees your name.

Logan hadn’t talked to very many of the drivers on the grid, often feeling on the outs of a lot of conversations. So he’s even more surprised to see Charles Leclerc making his way toward him at a club. A club he had only agreed to come to so he coule be Oscar's designated driver, by the way.

“Eyyy, it’s the American!” Charles says, the alcohol clearly present in his voice. The lights are too dimmed but if they were brighter, Logan would be able to see the lipstick smudges around his white collar.

“Hey, Charles,” Logan replies, scepticism laced in his voice. The Monegasque leans closer to him, the drink in his hand sloshing around in the cup.

“I have something to tell you,” Charles slurs a bit, leaning dangerously before a pretty brunette comes up and grabs him, based on her lipstick shade compared to Charles’ shirt, she had already been more than acquaintances with him before this conversation.

Logan glances at the pair before responding dryly, “Oh no.”

Charles grins before pointing back to where he had come from, a dark-haired girl sitting at the table, “That’s Natalie.”

“Navaeh,” the brunette pipes up to correct Charles as he nods in response.

“Yeah, Nivia. Anyway, she’s a friend of mine and she’s been eyeing you all night, thought you’d want her number.”

Logan rolls his eyes at the very clearly drunk couple in front of him, increasing his headache from the pounding EDM, “What an assumption there Charles. I’m actually good though.”

“What?” Charles asks, squinting to see the blonde under the club lights.

“No thanks,” Logan smiles tightly before moving to step around the couple and probably tell Oscar that either they were both leaving or Oscar was getting an Uber, “You guys have a good night though.”

The couple is already too busy sucking face to realize he’s left.

“I just don’t understand why they keep trying to set me up, I’m perfectly happy with you,” Logan complains to you over the phone a few nights later.

You were sat in your dorm, engineering work strewn across your desk and your roommate at a party somewhere. You were trying to get as much work done as possible before Logan came to Austin for the GP so you could spend the weekend with him.

“I mean, have you told them you’re married?” You ask, trying to stifle a yawn as your hand moves to write down the equation for the problem in front of you.

Logan shakes his head, the movement almost imperceptible through the small phone screen, “Nah, but it’s just that no one’s asked you know? I’m just waiting for someone to say “Hey Logan, you got a girl back home?” Before they try and set me up with some Instagram model they know.”

You smile softly as he talks, his hands moving to mess with his blond hair periodically. He eventually looks back to the screen once he’s done ranting and is met with your smiling face filling his phone screen, “What?”

“I love you,” you say warmly, your grin practically splitting your face.

Logan blushes before laughing and shaking his head to hide the redness on his face, “I love you too. I’ll see you next week yeah?”

You look down at the now-completed homework in front of you. Homework that could’ve taken about 2 fewer hours if you weren’t on call.

“Yeah I’m done with this. I’ll turn it into my professor tomorrow and after that I am free. When do you get in?” You ask, shuffling the papers together and sliding them into your bag before moving out of your chair and flopping onto your bunk, sleep clouding your eyes.

“Uhh,” Logan pauses, glancing at his suitcase. In reality, he was supposed to get in twenty two hours and six minutes from when he hung up the call, his flight leaving in three hours and arriving in Austin after a 16 hour flight and a 2 hour layover in DFW followed by an hour long flight to Austin. He would effectively be arriving about a week before any of the other drivers. Besides maybe Daniel. But he couldn’t say any of that. He wanted to surprise you, especially now that you had no work to do. So instead he just hums, “Next week I think.”

“That’s great, babe,” you yawn, a small smile on your lips at the idea of him being back with you again, “I can’t wait to see you.”

“Yeah?” Logan grins.

You hum, your eyes drifting closed slightly, “Yeah.”

Logan notices your less-than-awake state and finally decides to end the call, “Goodnight, I love you.”

You yawn again, your eyes fluttering shut, “Good morning Logan, I love you too.”

The call ends quickly after and Logan glances at the time, grinning when he sees the 8:24 am displayed on his phone screen. You’d both had to deal with the difference in time zones for so long, you probably had all the time zones memorized. Or at least you remembered enough to call out good morning instead of goodnight while he was in Qatar.

His flight touches down twenty-two hours later and the first thing he does is call you.

“Hey what's up?” It's about 10:30 in Austin and the only thing you were doing was picking up barbeque from this place on the edge of campus that your roommate had been raving about.

“Not much, just bored,” Logan replies, his eyes scanning the background of the face time call for where you could possibly be this late.

You glance down at your phone for a second to do the same, eyebrows furrowing, “Where are you? It looks dark.”

Logan glances around slightly before replying, “In a car,” he wasn't lying, he really was in a car. Just one that was ubering to your campus instead of one with his team in Qatar, “Where are you? It's like 10 pm over there.”

“Just picking up some food,” you reply, eyes looking over the moonlit sidewalk that threads through the well-kept grass that surrounds you.

“This late?”

You laugh, “I slept through dinner.”

Logan smiles before sliding forward slightly when the car stops, “Are you just going back to your dorm?”

You look around quickly, “Yeah it's like a quarter mile back though.” You tighten your grip on the bag in your hand, the plastic having started to slip. Maybe your Ugg slides hadn't been the best choice for this walk but you'd manage.

“Oh yeah I know where you are, I remember eating at that place last time I was there,” Logan pulls his suitcase out of the trunk and tips the driver, checking periodically to make sure you hadn't clocked him.

“Yeah yeah, really good stuff and the owner remembered me today, guess I've been there enough times,” You laugh, starting to move back in the direction of your dorm once again.

By the time you had stopped to readjust the bag of food and your shoes, Logan had already started to speedwalk in the direction of your dorm. As he walks he passes enough drunk college kids to fill the football stadium they had all visited so many times.

You're walking pretty slowly, enjoying the moonlight shining brightly on the campus. Your shoes definitely weren't making you any faster to be fair.

“You turn your assignment in?” Logan asks, hoping you don't notice his eyes darting around the campus in search of you.

You nod, reaching a hand up to rub at your sleepy eyes, “Yeah, he even gave me extra credit for turning it in so early.”

Logan nods absentmindedly and you raise an eyebrow as you watch him do it before his eyes lock on something and he abruptly ends the call, “I've got to go, love you!”

You stand staring at your phone with a confused look on your face for a moment, words dying on the tip of your tongue. Weird.

You shake your head before moving to walk again, Logan's weird actions at the forefront of your mind.

Before you can even take a step, someone calls out your name and you turn quickly to see Logan standing there with the biggest grin on his face.

You gasp and wrap him in a bone-crushing hug warmth spreading through you from his arms. You move to spread kisses all across his face and for a few minutes, you both just stand there, not having seen each other in a few months and taking the time to readjust.

“I missed you,” you mumble into his shoulder, unexpected tears starting to spring from your eyes.

He just sets you down before wrapping a hand around the side of your face, “I missed you too.”

You bring a sweater-clad hand up to wipe away a tear before grabbing the food in one hand and grabbing his hand in the other, starting to lead him back to your dorm.

He grabs his suitcase as you start moving, “Is your roommate here?”

“No, you know how she is. She'll be with her new boyfriend for a few weeks so we're fine,” you wave away his question as you walk toward the building a few hundred feet away.

He smiles in response, “Hope you got enough food for two.”

You just laugh joyously.

A week and a half later, you’re stood in the hotel room Logan’s team had provided him, the room much nicer than your cramped dorm room. You had spent the last 12 days exploring Austin with your husband, making up for the time spent away from each other.

You had accidentally slept through Logan’s departure for the morning, waking up to a text explaining that, with your busy class schedule, he wanted you to get as many days of sleeping in as possible but he had gotten you breakfast and it was currently sitting in the kitchen.

You smiled at the text, appreciating Logan’s thoughtfulness. In the kitchen was a coffee from your favourite coffee shop as well as a McGriddle from McDonalds, which, no doubt, hurt Logan to order considering he wasn’t allowed to eat them.

You quickly ate the food, texting Logan to thank him. He texts back surprisingly quickly, considering he was supposed to be in a meeting.

He filled you in on how his morning had gone before asking when you’d get to the paddock for the race. You replied that you’d be there soon, quickly sliding on a light jacket over your tank top and jean shorts, preparing for the Austin heat.

Considering you had never been in the COTA paddock before, you would rather be in any situation other than your current one. There were about three hours until the race and you had no idea where the Williams garage was. You had gotten in just fine but, for some reason, you couldn’t find the blue of the Williams employees anywhere.

Logan wasn’t answering his phone, which you expected considering he had already been reprimanded for being on his phone during a meeting once this morning. Now you were left by yourself, trying to navigate the busy paddock.

You were somehow in a sea of orange, eyebrows furrowed. You turn in a quick circle, eyes setting on a curly-haired man in an orange polo who you take a few quick steps towards, hoping he can help you with directions.

“Excuse me,” you call out to the man who turns around swiftly, eyes pulling across your figure before landing on your face.

“How can I help you, love?” The man replies, a British accent laced through his voice and a sharp grin on his rosy lips.

You glance around slightly, leaning away from the man’s hungry gaze, “Do you know where the Williams garage is?”

He nods his head but keeps his eyes locked on your face, his smirk unfaltering, “Yeah, yeah, it’s just down that way.”

He points to nowhere in particular, moving to lean against the wall you’re standing near, “What’s your name, darling?”

You have to hide the smirk that tries to escape you at the fact that this man clearly has no idea you were married and also clearly thought you’d be an easy girl to flirt with considering his unwavering confidence.

You tell him your name and a grin breaks out on his face, “Pretty name, I’m Lando.”

Ah, so this was Lando. You had only ever seen him with his helmet on and from what you heard from Logan, his current behaviour made perfect sense. Logan hadn’t talked a lot about the Brit but he had mentioned him a few times considering he was Oscars teammate.

You hum, glancing around amusedly around the garage. You and Lando talk for a few more moments before a shorter figure clasps a hand on his shoulder. You lock eyes with the newcomer, grinning when you see a familiar boy standing behind Lando.

"Hey Osc," You smile at the Aussie. Oscar glances sideways at Lando, eyes shifting across his face before they turn to you. You just smile sweetly at the man who reciprocates the grin back at you.

"Hey," Lando glances confusedly between the two of you at Oscar's response. When Lando's confusion goes on a bit too long, Oscar turns and swings an arm around your shoulder, effectively moving the both of you away from the still-confused McLaren driver.

"I assume you're looking for Williams, then?" Oscar asks, running his free hand through his hair which had already begun to stick to his forehead from the Austin heat.

You hum in affirmation, sliding your sunglasses down your nose as the two of you step into the sun to make your way to your husband's garage.

Oscar makes conversation as he pulls you along, talking to you about how his season had gone and also asking a lot of questions about your engineering classes.

“I’d do a video for you, shock all your classmates,” Oscar says when you tell him you had to do a presentation explaining the engineering behind a piece of machinery and you had chosen a Formula 1 car.

You laugh, shaking your head as you do, “Yeah? I'd take you up on that, but I have a driver who'd be much easier to get a video from.”

Oscar snorts, smiling as you reach the Williams garage, “Lando?”

You roll your eyes as the name leaves his lips, hitting the back of his head with the small bag in your hands, “Don't get me started on Lando. You know he tried to set Logan up with one of his friends?”

Oscar furrows his eyebrows, “What?”

“Yeah, Lando said you told him Logan’s love life was lonely or something like that,” You reply, glancing around passively in search of your husband.

Oscar somehow manages to furrow his eyebrows even deeper, mouth opening and closing in disbelief, “That’s not what I said at all.”

“Tell him that.”

You both walk into the garage after that, you move to make conversation with Benny who’s sat to the side, surprise crossing his face as he sees you.

Oscar, though, spots Logan and makes his way to him quickly. He clasps a hand on the blonde's back who turns to face him with a grin, “What’s up Osc?”

“Lando was flirting with your wife,” Oscar states flatly, trying to push down the grin on his face.

Logan blinks a few times in an attempt to understand what the Aussie just said, “What- why?”

“Don’t think he knew she was your wife, mate.”

Logan rolls his eyes before turning around slightly to resume his conversation with his engineer. He stops mid-turn and swings back around to Oscar quickly, eyes wide, “My wife’s here?”

Oscar laughs at the American's face, stepping out of his line of sight so he can see you conversing with Benny.

Logan grins, sliding past the other boy to step toward you as quick as he can, wrapping his arms around you from behind. Oscar can’t hear what you two say to each other but he can see the love painting your faces as Logan plants a kiss on the top of your head. Benny smiles at the two of you, walking away to let you two talk.

As Oscar leaves the Williams garage, he briefly debates telling Lando you were married, especially to Logan, but he eventually decides not to. He’d figure it out eventually. Also might help to have him learn the hard way.

You sat in the garage for the entire race. But when Logan ends the race in eight, you’re jumping up happily to follow the Williams employee guiding you to where he’ll be.

The moment he’s done being weighed, he runs over to you, pulling his helmet off and unzipping his suit to his hips.

He grasps the side of your face, pulling you to him as he kisses you softly. He pulls away slightly and rests his forehead against yours, lifting a hand to grab the one you have against the side of his face, fingers brushing over your wedding ring.

“Thank you for being here. I love you.”

You can’t help the lovely laugh that escapes you, throwing your head back a bit to escape the heat rising on your cheeks, “I love you too, dork. I’m so proud of you.”

He smiles before leaning to catch you in another kiss.

Lando had finished the race in 4th. Not bad considering who had finished in front of him. He’d already talked to his team so he was now just roaming around, looking for someone to talk to.

He locks eyes on you and takes a few steps toward you before someone comes running past him. He looks over to see Logan grasping your face in his hands before pulling you down into a kiss.

He can’t help but stand in shock for a few moments although he can sense a couple people walking up next to him. He glances beside him to see Charles and Alex, both also staring at Logan in disbelief.

“What the hell?” Lando asks, to no one in particular. Luckily, or unfortunately, for him, someone has an answer.

“Are you lot staring at Logan and his wife?” Lando doesn’t look over to catch the amused look on Oscar’s face as he asks the question. But Alex does, and he furrows his eyebrows at the younger man.

“Sorry?” Alex asks the Aussie who just smiles and turns back to the couple, still smiling in each other's embrace.

Charles is the first one to notice anything and he smacks the other two on the head when he does, “They’re both wearing wedding rings.”

Alex blinks for a second, caught in the strange reality that he hadn’t noticed his teammate wearing a wedding ring the whole season. He pulls out his phone to go through old photos and low-and-behold, Logan’s wearing a ring in every single one.

“Jesus Christ,” Lando mumbles, running a hand through his damp curls, “I flirted with her.”

“Yeah,” Oscar nods, hands on his hips, “I probably wouldn’t talk to Logan for a while if I were you. Unless you want to find out how they do it in Florida.”

Lando gulps at the boy's words, of course, having no idea how they “do it” in Florida but only assuming he’d end up with a black eye. Oscar has to stifle a laugh, knowing Logan would most likely just laugh it off if Lando genuinely apologized. Not that Lando would.

Oscar's eyes drift across the trio of confused drivers, most likely all going through their memories of the times they had tried to set Logan up.

“You told me he was lonely,” Lando finally whines out, turning back to Oscar who shakes his head.

“I told you he was lonely because his girlfriend couldn’t make it to any of the races. If you would listen, you would’ve heard that part.”

Lando has no defence to that and turns his head back again to watch as Logan laughs at something you said, fingers intertwined together.

When the news spread across the paddock the next day, Logan received a lot of incredulous texts from drivers and employees alike, all shocked that he was in a relationship, let alone married.

Logan didn’t read any of them, he was too busy hanging out with you.

Except, of course, the message from Oscar that included three specific drivers all with their eyes wide as they stared at him and you.

——————————————————

Tags: @casperlikej @evie-119

#scheduled #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x female reader #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 smau #logan sargeant x fem!reader #logan sargeant x you #logan sargent x reader #logan sargeant x reader

[salaciousdoll]

· · Just in: Gojo Satoru just found out he’s a chubby chaser like the rest · ·

･˳ . ⋆ Reporting From Gojo Satoru x Chubby!Fem!reader ･˳ . ⋆

୨⍣୧ ⁺⁎˚ ⋆━━ Warnings : Smut, Dirty talking, pwp, fluids( squirting, cum on body and inside), creampie, heavy body worship, Gojo calling you a cry baby and chubby bunny, words of affirmation, pet names ( such as doll, Angel, etc.), missionary position, stretch marks mentioned, reader is shoko’s nurse assistant( guess you could say it’s the original verse/ au in a way idk), please enjoy yourself. Wc: 800

ෆ ‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿ ෆ ̟ ̇ ┈•ﾟNote from Maydayaisha: This is for my chubby girls who doesn’t feel like their fave or anyone would love them. I wrote this with myself and other chubby/plus size babes. Love you all so much and just know I’m here for you all. Anyways, love you and enjoy my first time Drabble I decided to do! Also please note I did this in 45 minutes so it’s not gonna be perfect at all. <33

“ Give it to me, baby doll.”, Satoru moans into your ear as he presses your body underneath his. The cushion of your body was something he needed to drown in. He couldn’t get you off his mind the moment he saw you working alongside Shoko as her nurse assistant.

Your eyes were shut tightly as your dried-up glitter lip gloss lips opened in a big O. You couldn’t take him and he knew you couldn’t because of the whispery moans falling from your pretty lips. “ Cat got your tongue, Angel. Too much f’ya.” Gojo rose up off your body— watching you shake from how deep he was inside of you. He chuckled whilst rubbing your clit— your legs were about to close but his hand stopped it, “ Ah ah Ah, no, keep them just like they are, pretty. Shit! You’re fucking squeezing me.”

“ Sato-Ahh~ I can’t— I can’t please pull out for a minute. Lemme - ugh! Mmm.”, Your moans were a ballad to him, a beautiful ballad. Gojo leaned down to kiss your bruised, puffy lips as he slowed down his strokes. Only then long stroking inside of your sloppy cunt. His cum was already painted over your pussy and he still had the energy to keep going. It was so painfully good because you two have been at this for about— shit who are you kidding you lost track.

Gojo knew he was digging inside of your stomach because of your juices traveling down his big cock, “ fucking pussy is eating on my dick. You’re that eager to take me in your stomach, Yeah? Don’t leave me hanging here love, Answer me.” You were speechless and couldn’t even talk— especially when he rolled his hips in a perfect circle, pausing to fuck his dick inside of you with the speed you never knew he had.

Tears danced in your pretty eyes, eventually dancing down your big apple cheeks causing Gojo to lick them off as he snapped his hips into yours. Your body vibrations were the topping to his cake. “ Got your breath took away, huh? Didn’t answer me-mmm- but you’re still so pretty for me, perfect pussy taking me deep.” Gojo slapped your pussy with his clean, pretty hands. “ You’re crying too? Such a big baby while taking my cock. Come on, just a little more for me, cherry pie.”

Gojo rose up again, smiling at you, “ No matter what anyone says, you’re beautiful, fucking gorgeous to me, especially when you’re taking my cock inside of that warm pussy of yours. Gotta say, Angel, you’re holding on so well.” His words of affirmation did nothing but make you squirt on his dick like a fire hydrant on a hot sunny day. “Perfect. Perfect. Perfect. Gojo was chanting the words like the crowd chanting for their teams on a game night, only whispering it against your face when he bent down again. His moans were getting louder as he braced himself to cum anywhere in or on your body.

Soon Gojo’s long, slender fingers intertwined with your chubby fingers as his white hair clouded his vision from seeing you squirm and come undone underneath him. He stopped fucking you with a loud and long groan, pulling out of you when some of his cum got inside of you. He wanted some of his fluid inside of you and on top of your chubby body. Your pretty tummy with stretch marks was now being drowned with his white , thick cum. Gojo’s body was shaking drastically as he stroked his cock above you, “ Fuck, Shit! So so good. My chubby bunny. Such a good- mmmgh!- little slut. My good little slut.”

He stopped stroking his thick, pretty cock once all of his cum came out of his body and onto yours. Yours and his chest was rising and falling harshly. His red flushed face was an art you admired even through diamond like a vision from your pretty teary eyes. Gojo chuckled— watching you try to get your vision back by whipping your eyes. His big, rough hands grabbed your wrist, you should’ve known from his little smirk on his face, he’ll say the one thing you hated being called during sex, "My little crybaby as well.”

Gojo was now just staring at your body with his blue Crystal like eyes. He studied the different areas your stretch marks appeared at. He licked his lips at your body rising and falling slowly now. Your cute double chin was so admirable to him. He was in love with you. Maybe even obsessed. He fucking adored your chubby body. If this is what it means to be a chubby chaser then he’s at the top of the list. Maybe even in the VIP section with Geto, Toji, and Nanami.

Tagging: @shunsuist @happygoluckyalexis @honeybleed ( my baby I am so sorry for not tagging you when I put this out, forgive me) @mastermindenoshimaalicia @cybercandy1 @simpingfor-wakasa @angelshub and anyone else who wants to be tagged in drabbles

#gojo satoru #gojo satoru smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #chubby reader #plus size reader #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #x black reader #black reader #jjk x black reader #jjk x chubby reader #anime smut #anime x chubby reader #anime men x reader #jjk drabbles #jjk imagines #satoru gojō x reader #angelshubnetwork

[luxaofhesperides]

Soulmark AU + Sleeping Beauty ; requested by @candeartist422!

For the last few years, Duke’s been waiting for his soulmate to die.

It sounds cruel to say it that way. But the waiting is more painful, he thinks, than just mourning a lost love. It’s not like most people ever meet their soulmates anyways; his parents weren’t meant to be, but they still loved each other and had a life together. He wishes he could turn his focus away from his soulmate, but Duke is a romantic at heart and has always wanted to find the other half of his soul.

But since he was fourteen, his soulmark has dulled, fading in and out of color. What was once a vibrant blue crystal star, with eight points and a swirl of watercolor hues around it, dimmed more and more until Duke was sure he was watching his soulmate die slowly. 

His soulmate didn’t die then. Whoever they are got better, his soulmark gaining color, but it never went back to the way it was. For years after, Duke would check at the beginning and end of each day, keeping track of when it faded and when it regained its color. 

He thought his soulmate was sick. In and out of hospitals, fighting to stay alive.

And then it went nearly colorless. 

Duke doesn’t remember much about that day. He knows he woke up, brushed his teeth, the lifted up his shirt to check his soulmark in the mirror. The blue was almost completely gone, the star on his left hipbone nearly gray with how colorless it was. He started at it for a moment, shocked, and reality slid away from him as he retreated into the safety of his mind, fully dissociating. 

Bruce had found him when Duke didn’t show up for breakfast. He held him and offered quiet words of comfort that Duke couldn’t understand, but just having someone with him lessened the hurt of losing his soulmate. 

Seeing the color come back the next day, faint as it was, hurt even more.

A year later, Duke still can’t break the habit of checking his soulmark twice a day. It hasn’t changed at all, still faint and dim, but carrying just enough color to show that his soulmate was still alive. At the very least, they were still breathing, but his chance of ever meeting them is basically zero. Still, he can’t help but hope, wishing that he could meet them even once before they die and leave him forever. 

“Same as ever,” he murmurs to himself as he brushes his thumb against his soulmark. He’s terrified that he’s forgotten how beautiful the blue of it was when his soulmate was healthy. 

Duke doesn’t let himself think on it too much anymore. Though his thoughts often turn to his soulmate during quiet moments like these, the busy nature of Gotham is usually more than enough to pull his attention back to the here and now. There’s no use in obsessing over his soulmate anyways; they’re just going to die, sooner or later, and Duke knows he’ll never get to meet them. They’ll just be another empty space in his life, right next to his parents. 

“Come on, Thomas, focus,” he tells himself firmly, then gets dressed and heads down to the kitchen for breakfast.

The manor is quiet. It usually is in the mornings, with everyone from the night shift dead asleep and trying to get as much rest as they can before they have to start their day. Not that many of them stay in the manor these days; Duke and Damian are the only permanent residents at the moment, but Steph usually stays half with her mom and half in the manor during the summers when she’s home from college, and the others drop in whenever they feel like it. 

Bruce lives more in the Batcave than the manor, so he doesn’t really count. It’s also why Duke is surprised to see Bruce awake and dressed like a normal person, drinking coffee in the kitchen as if this is a normal occurrence. 

“Morning,” Duke offers.

“Good morning, Duke,” Bruce replies. “Sleep well?”

“Well enough. Alfred out or something?”

“He may have kicked me out of the Batcave to clean it up a bit,” Bruce answers tiredly. “Want me to make breakfast?”

Duke has heard the horror stories of Bruce’s attempts to make edible food in a kitchen. In the interest of not dealing with food poisoning, Duke shakes his head quickly and says, “Nah, it’s fine. I was kinda wanting to eat out for breakfast. Get out there as me, and not a mask, you know?”

“Mind if I join you? Alfred may forgive me for not sleeping if I willingly go outside.”

Duke laughs. “Sure man, as long as you pay.”

“I’ll drive, too.”

“What, don’t trust me behind a wheel?”

Bruce gives him a tired look, eyes dead and dull. “I have taught all my children how to drive. The day I willingly let them take the wheel when I am not actively dying is the day I’ve been replaced by a robot clone of myself who doesn’t know better yet.”

“That is… very specific. Is that a thing you usually worry about?”

“I’m Batman. I have to worry about everything.”

Yeah, that tracks. Duke wouldn’t be surprised if he has at least five contingency plans for that scenario, should it ever happen. “Well,” he says, “Right now, all you need to worry about is having your wallet and driving us down to The Foodie Nook. I’ve been craving their breakfast plates for ages.”

Bruce doesn’t object to his choice of restaurant and follows Duke down to the garage, grabbing a random set of keys and pointing it out to the many cars he owns. One near the front blinks its lights as it unlocks and Duke cheerfully tosses himself into the passenger seat as Bruce opens the garage door. 

The drive into Gotham is smooth. They don’t hit traffic until they reach the bridge that leads into the city proper, taking them away from the quiet of Bristol. The morning is busy, but not enough that Duke worries about being out as the Signal to help keep the peace. It’s a normal type of busy, one borne from people going about their lives, feeling safe enough to go out. 

The Foodie Nook is entirely local and very popular, so the parking lot is nearly full. But they expanded their space last year, which means he and Bruce don’t have to sit outside while they wait to grab a table. Bruce keeps conversation light and casual, well aware of the many listening ears around them, and it’s nice, feeling normal for once. 

Well, as normal as life can be with Bruce Wayne™. The server who comes to lead them to a table realizes who she’s talking to after she gets a proper look at them while holding open the door and promptly stutters over her words. 

“No need for any special treatment,” Bruce laughs lightly, “We’re just here for breakfast. Nothing special.”

“Of course,” she replies, cheeks red. “Um, right this way! We’ve got a table by the windows for you. Just two, yeah?”

“Yup! Just two. Thought this was a good day to spend some time with Duke. He’s a great kid, you know, I’m glad I was given the opportunity to foster him.”

The sunny, cheerful Bruce Wayne persona is so different from the usual Bruce he works with that it feels like he’s standing next to a stranger. But his words are sincere and warm his heart, filling up the gaps that his soulmate has left. 

“Here you are!” their server announces, showing them to their table. “I’ll be right back with some menus.” She’s gone in a rush, and other customers glance over before quickly averting their gaze. 

It’s one of the unspoken rules of Gotham: give the Waynes their privacy while they’re out in public. Questions and conversation are for public events only, but if they see a Wayne out and about during a normal day, everyone leaves them be unless spoken to first. Duke used to follow those rules as well when he was just another Gothamite. It’s strange being on the other side of that now that he’s in with the Waynes.

Duke barely has to look through the menu when it’s handed to him. The breakfast plates are his favorites and he gets one every single time he comes to The Foodie Nook; stacked full with breakfast foods from around the world. As a kid, he loved the Mexico Plate, but these days he’s craving either the Brazilian Plate or the Vietnamese Plate.  

He can’t decide on which one and thinks about tossing a coin to decide, but seeing how that’s Two Face’s whole thing, he decides to hold off and settle the matter with eenie-meenie-minnie-mo. 

He gets the Vietnamese Plate.

Bruce, on the other hand, reads through the entire menu like it’s a novel, then leans over and says rather loudly, “Duke, what’s a tort-illa.” 

The pain he feels hearing that is only worsened by the amusement in Bruce’s eyes. He’s doing it on purpose, playing up the Brucie act for the public so he can psychologically torment Duke. A few nearby customers choke back laughter, turning away to hide their smiles. 

Duke shakes his head and says, “Don’t worry about it. It’s just food. Don’t ask any more questions, I just want a peaceful breakfast.”

“Well then,” Bruce replies, “I suppose I know what to order now.”

As if she was summoned, their server reappears before them, cheeks still looking a little flushed. “Hi! Ready to order?”

She writes down their orders quickly, valiantly keeping a straight face at Bruce’s mispronunciation of tortilla, then heads off to deliver their orders to the kitchen. 

Rather than draw out a conversation with Brucie Wayne, Duke settles for playing a few idle games on his phone; his current favorite is one quiet cat cafe game where he directs cats into fulfilling cafe orders. 

Bruce, despite being out in his civilian identity, is working. He’s on his Batman phone, which looks the same as his other cell phones except this one has a bat symbol sticker just barely hiding a Superman sticker on the phone case. His brow is slightly furrowed as he reads whatever file he’s accessing from the Batcomputer. It’s a little worrying but it could be anything. Bruce makes the same expression when he reads one of Tim’s snarky comments getting quoted in the news.

But that’s not Duke’s problem! He’s here to enjoy his breakfast and it will take the end of the world itself to remove him from his seat before he’s done eating.

The game takes most of his attention until their food comes out, and by then Bruce has tucked away the smallest of his Batman mannerisms. They enjoy a normal, peaceful breakfast. Bruce ends it by asking their server if she has any debt that’s weighing her down, then giving her a tip that’s at least five thousand dollars above that. 

She does cry and Bruce hugs her. It’s very sweet. 

As soon as they get back into the car, his easy going smile drops and Duke knows some superhero nonsense is about to take over his day. 

“Duke,” Bruce starts, seriously, “I received a message from Zatanna.”

“Don’t drag this out,” Duke says, “Just give it to me straight. What terrible thing is about to happen to us?”

“It’s nothing too big. They just recently defeated a magical being who had been tearing apart secret government facilities in Illinois. He had both magic and a high tech weapon, which they confiscated and are delivering to me. The government agency he was fighting was suspiciously interested in the weapon, and based on their behaviors and newly revealed work, Zatanna made the decision to turn the weapon over to us so it doesn’t fall into the wrong hands.”

Bruce smoothly merges into traffic as he speaks, getting them onto the road back to the manor. There’s a look in his eyes that means he’s keeping a lot unsaid, and Duke knows without a doubt that whatever this government agency was doing is bad if Zatanna needs Batman to act as extra security. 

He’s not sure about her decision to trust the weapon to be safe in Gotham, either. Sure, Batman will keep it as safe as he can, but with their luck, it’ll end up in the hands of a Rogue and lead to a lot of death and destruction. 

As soon as they cross the bridge and return to Bristol, Bruce steps on the gas and the car tears down the road. Without any other cars to worry about (or traffic laws), it takes barely two minutes to reach the manor, when the gates open for them and let them into the garage. 

Alfred waits for them by the door, looking them over with a critical eye. “I see you have managed to go outside, Master Bruce. What’s the special occasion?”

“Just breakfast,” Bruce answers. “I’m heading back down to the Batcave. Zatanna will be here soon to deliver a weapon.” He’s gone before Alfred can say anything more, hurrying down the hall and turning the corner, disappearing from sight as he heads towards his office. 

“I see we have yet to break that bad habit of his. Did you enjoy your morning out, Master Duke?”

“Sure did, Alfred. I’m, uh, also going down to the Batcave. He’s definitely not telling me a lot about what’s going on, so I’m just going to read about it over his shoulder. I’ll be back up for lunch, though!”

“And perhaps you’ll be able to drag Master Bruce away from that cave of his,” Alfred comments wryly as he walks with Duke towards the office. He gives Duke a nod, then splits away from him, returning to the kitchen where Duke can hear Damian speaking to someone, probably Tim by the annoyed tone of his voice, and mentally wishes Alfred luck in handling them.

Duke sets the correct time on the clock in Bruce’s office and heads down to the Batcave, taking the steps two at a time. 

Bruce is already at the Batcomputer, shoulders tensed, when he arrives. 

“More bad news?” he asks as he makes his way over.

Bruce doesn’t bother looking away from the screen as he says, “More details about the fight. It seems the magical being called himself a ghost and was going on a rampage due to a betrayal. He says they nearly killed his son.”

“Oh, yikes.”

“And two of the scientists working with the government agency said that he stole their son and is keeping them from saving him.”

“Yikes,” Duke says with more feeling.

He doesn’t get to hear anymore details about JLD’s fight with this ghost when he catches a flicker in the corner of his eye. Duke turns and stares at the empty space in the Batcave near the medbay and watches as colorful magic gathers and swirls in dizzing circles. The portal opens a moment later and Zatanna steps out, looking exhausted and lightly singed. 

“Batman,” she greets, holding a white gun that looks like it belongs in an early sci-fi movie from the 60s. “The GIW is trying to arrest us. Constantine keeps burning their badges and documents so it shouldn’t be a problem, but they are determined to get this back. I wouldn’t be surprised if they came after you next. They’ve got some way of tracking things, but I didn’t have time to get any details before I had to leave.”

Bruce takes the gun from her hands carefully, looking it over with a sharp gaze. “Why would a ghost want to use a gun?”

“I don’t know. He had a variety of powers, too.”

“What does this do?”

“Shoots ice. He never let it go and nearly burned me alive for taking it before we subdued him.”

“We’ll keep it locked up,” Bruce promises. 

Zatanna sighs. It looks as though a physical weight fell off her shoulders. “Thanks. I’m going to head back to stop Constantine from getting into a fistfight with the GIW agents.”

She opens another portal with a waved hand and a muttered spell. Bruce is already walking away to set the gun down on a work station, so Duke is the one to wave Zatanna goodbye. 

By the time he reaches Bruce’s side, the gun is already dismantled, all pieces neatly set aside. Sticky notes denote which pieces go together and in what order. It looks the same as most guns, save for the aesthetic, but the heart of it is a glowing blue orb, large enough to cover the entirety of Bruce’s palm, and it brings a chill to the air.

Duke stares at it and feels his soulmark burn ice cold.

“Duke?”

It’s in his hands. He doesn’t remember reaching out to take it, but it’s in his hands. He can’t take his eyes off of it, cradling it gently and bringing it closer to his chest. 

It’s the same blue his soulmark once was. Before his soulmate began to fade, before every day became a waiting game to see how long his soulmate will last before they die. 

This has something to do with his soulmate. He’s sure of it. 

He won’t let anyone take it from him. 

“Duke. Give that to me.”

He doesn’t feel like he’s in his body. He’s detached, floating somewhere outside his body, puppeteering his limbs, making them move without feeling the motion. Shadows condense around his feet and Bruce takes a step back, wary. 

“Duke,” he says again, but Duke can’t find any words, can’t draw on his voice, can’t even look away from the bright, bright blue of the orb. It pulses lightly in his hand like a heartbeat. 

Bruce reaches a hand out. 

He’s pulled back by shadows before he can get close, and Duke holds the orb against his chest, right against his heart, and feels the cold seep into him. 

“Duke. I need you to look at me.” This time, Bruce’s voice has Batman’s growl in it, a heavy command that he can’t help but instinctively follow. He looks up and meets Bruce’s eyes, but he can’t focus. All his awareness is in his hands and the heartbeat of the glowing orb.

“I have to protect this,” Duke manages to whisper. “I… I think it’s alive.”

“Okay. Let’s get you to the medbay so you can sit down. We’ll figure this out, Duke.”

Bruce slowly, carefully, sets his hand on Duke’s shoulder. He keeps his attention away from the orb, so Duke allows it and lets Bruce guide him to the medbay and onto one of the medical cots. Bruce leaves him after a minute of quiet fussing, muttering about calling Zatanna.

Whatever. None of that matters when the heartbeat of the orb grows stronger, steadier, and Duke feels it match the beat of his own heart.

Time slips away from him. Distantly, he hears people move around the cave, speaking in low tones. A hand presses against his shoulder, warm, then moves away. 

The orb in his hand moves. 

Duke blinks slowly, then claws his way back to awareness, pushing past the haze that’s fallen over his mind. The orb turns over in his hand, then cracks right down the middle. The glow grows stronger, washing the medbay in blue light and a symbol appears on the orb.

It’s his soulmark. 

Later, he won’t be able to say why he did it. There were no thoughts, no reasonings, no explanations. Duke simply moved on instinct and lifted the orb up to his face and pressed a soft kiss against it. 

One moment, the orb was still.

The next, it had burst in a flash of light that blinded everyone in the Batcave, and then a thin, injured teenager had fallen into Duke’s lap. 

Hands immediately grab him, pulling him away from Duke. The teenager puts up no fight, eyes barely open, but he reaches for Duke weakly. On his wrist is the bright blue snowflake, the color strong and vivid. 

“That’s me soulmate,” Duke whispers as he watches Bruce and Tim set the boy down on another medical cot. 

“What?” Tim says, turning to face Duke, concern clear on his face. 

“That’s my soulmate,” he repeats, louder. Then, panicked, he pulls up his shirt enough to see his own soulmark; the color is still dull, weak, barely there, but it’s more blue that it has been in a while. He doesn’t need to say anything. Tim sees the dullness of his soulmark, looks at the boy, and puts the pieces together on his own.

“I’ll call Doc Thompkins,” he says, already moving to fix everything. Bruce remains where he is, making sure the boy is tucked in and breathing steadily before he returns to Duke. 

“Are you alright?”

Duke swallows roughly, unable to tear his eyes away from the boy. He’s pale and thin, as if he’d been starved, and there’s frost beginning to spread on the bedsheet from his fingers. “He’s my soulmate,” Duke manages to say. “He’s been dying for two years.”

Bruce’s eyes a hard, a determined light in them. “We’ll save him,” he promises. 

If anyone can, it’s Batman. 

If anyone can, it’s them, Batman and the Signal, and their entire network of family and friends. 

Duke’s been waiting for his soulmate to die all this time. Now, he’s going to save him.

#ghostlights #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #prompt fill #my writing #i dont really know much abt jld so they are not really in here #just duke trying to live his life and have a nice day with bruce #when his soul mate gets thrown at him in the form of an ORB #(ghost core but they dont know that yet) #dannys gonna have to answer so many questions once hes awake bc not many know abt realms beings #its gonna be rough for him bc he's been asleep for 2 years in his core bc he was never safe enough to recover #until duke gave him a boost (plus the power of soulmates really helped him) and he woke up #in a cave with his soulmate and a whole crew of superheroes #what a thing to open ur eyes to. rip danny lol #thanks for the prompt!

[thewriterg]

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐰

pairing(s); simon riley x fem!reader, reader x toxic family

summary; You tried to keep it together to keep him away from it to not get attached but it only take one situation for you to come crumbling down reaching out to simon for comfort —angstober day;14—

word count; 900+

warning(s); age gap, sweetheart is her/your own warning, thinking college student reader so like early twenties and simon is about mid to late forties, arguments, crying, angst, kisses, pet names, mention of violence, simon abt to risk it all, and language

playlist; nothings new by rio romeo

A/n:—GIFs; @astrolux111 & @silenthqll— GIF does not determine race

Simon was up it didn’t take much to wake him and when he heard the footsteps approaching his flat front door he was up the handgun from his scratched wooden nightstand that he’d bought off some older man who he was sure had passed to the unknown by now

The rough knocks on his door frame were demanding and rushed as if the person behind the wood was on time crunch he approached the door the firearm clutched in his hand his finger taking no time to rest on the trigger his hand was on the nob before he swung the door open his eyebrows furrowing not expecting to see what was in his line of sight

Your eyes were red and puffy tear streaks stringing your face your hair out of place as well as your shifted clothes Simon swiftly setting down his defense on standing table next to his door grabbing your arm to bring you into the shelter of his home he checks over your body to find nothing alarming but the soaking wet clothes clinging to your body

“S-simon” Is all you can get out as your body racked with sobs you shoulders hunched and he wraps an arm around you littered with tattoos your face hidden in his chest covered by the cotton tshirt that was a little small on him your cold wet clothes transferring onto his as shushes you slowly moving you into his bedroom sitting you on his mattress slipping your drenched shirt over your head as you sniffle your head throbbing from the continuous tears and energy spent you didn’t realize you were dressed in dry attire until you were getting picked up and suddenly the weighed down fabric wasn’t overwhelming you anymore your legs wraps around the blondes torso lying your head on his shoulder you body still shivering as you felt yourself dip onto his worn mattress rubbing his hands down your goosebump covered arms

“Come on love what’s the matter with my sweet girl, hmm? Tell Si what’s the matter” Something triggers in you causing more streams of tears to fall down your face and you try to speak choking out incoherent words and sniffles simon rubs a hand over your hair pressing a kiss your forehead his brain screaming at him to to go punch the nearest punk out on the street because there has to be something, something major to keep you acting this way

“I don’t want you to leave me” You body wracks you chest feels like it’s gonna cave any minute you feel like your airway you’ll be cut off and your sound will be free from your body

“Sweetheart it’s gonna take more than a few tears to get rid of me, matter of fact you won’t be able to you understand?” You nod your head before your spewing everything weighing your chest down to the floor about you family and how they make you feel more down then you’d ever been without meaning to the situation I particular causing your weaker construction to tip over and collapse your siblings couldn’t keep their hands out of your things and this time it had did it you’d been saving for a new laptop for class it cost more than you liked to admit and your sister god you loved her but she was at the age where she couldn’t keep her hands off of thing your things to be exact and long story short your laptop was broken in your sisters hands you berated her scolded her it was the least you could do for the trouble she caused you

When your parents arrived home you expected them to finish the job rip your sister a new one she ran into your father arms rambling of how mean and what a monster you are and even after you told your parents about what she had done she’s barely get a slap on the wrist you were older you shouldn’t yell at the younger ones defending your honor and standing your ground got you yelled at a stinging mark on your cheek

“My h-head hurts” You whimpered after a moment of silence and it was true you didn’t know how long you’ve been crying for and your head felt like it was going to explode Simon sets you down on the mattress briefly your head still spinning and pounding in your ears he leaves and returns again two pain killers that look like a spec of nothing in his palm he sets and on your cheek gently prying your jaw open setting the drugs on your tongue before you swallow the he praises you for it and your realize how much of a all time low you are

“Come on sweetheart no more tears you know it’ll make it worse” This time you’re not sobbing from the pain your chest but rather the pain your head hiccups slipping from your lips falling apart in his grasp and he held you like he always will and as he always had

He’d glue all your broke pieces back together

©2023 thewriterg spooktober do not copy, translate, or modify.

NEW; sweetheart and simon headcanons

#🦇𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑;𝐆 #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x reader #simon ghost x reader #ghost x you #cod x reader #cod angst #cod fanfic #spooktober #flufftober #angstober #kinktober #romance #fem!reader #angst #ghost angst #i love you #thewriterg #2023

[antiquarianfics]

You Have a Girlfriend?

So you get a little confused when you’re drunk? So what?

a/n: I saw a goofy little twitter post about this somewhere and ran with it. I’m goofy when I’m drunk, so, honestly? A very plausible scenario.

warnings: Mild language, alcohol consumption.

note: I do not own the character Bucky Barnes or any other Marvel affiliated characters.

You do not have permission to copy, repost, or translate my work; however, feel free to like, comment, and/or reblog.

—

You’re sitting next to Bucky and across from Sam, and you are a little very drunk. The three of you chose to have a drink and talk after a long day of working on the Wilsons’ boat. The issue, however, is that Sam challenged Bucky and yourself to a drinking game, and you were desperately losing.

One thing about you is that when you’re drunk: you feel the need to tell everyone how much you love them. Another thing about you when you’re drunk: your memory sucks.

“Sam,” you whisper yell across the bow of the boat. “Sam. Sam. Sam.”

Sam raises an eyebrow at you when he turns his attention to you.

“I have a secret to tell you! No, two secrets!” You hold out two fingers in front of you.

Sam smirks. “What’s that?”

“One,” you hold up one finger, “I love you; you’re a good friend. Two,” you hold up a second finger, “your friend who’s sitting by me is really, really hot.”

Sam lets out a loud laugh, and you grin at his reaction.

“I love you, too, kid.”

Bucky is smiling fondly at you, watching you with love and adoration. He’s glad he can’t get drunk simply for the ability to take care of you while you let loose.

“I’m really, really hot, huh?” Bucky teases, and he laughs when you nearly get whiplash from turning to look at him.

Your eyes are wide as you stare at him. In your drunken state, you clearly didn’t expect him to hear your admission to Sam. You relax after a second, though, and smile at him.

“Yeah, you are. Y’know, I was wonderin’…” you trail off, getting distracted as you stare into his bright blue eyes. You let out a content sigh as you observe him.

“What were ya wonderin’, Doll?” He lets his hand rest on your thigh, rubbing his hand up and down comfortingly.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” Your question is dead serious. There’s no hesitancy or joke in your voice, and Bucky finds it completely endearing. He chuckles as he stares at you, and you can faintly hear Sam lose his shit. You don’t pull your attention away from Bucky at all, though.

“I do,” Bucky informs you, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing at your reaction.

Your eyes go wide, tears prickle at the corner of them. You swallow and wipe them away before doing your best to come up with a steady voice.

“Is it serious?” You question him.

“Very,” he smiles. “‘m gonna ask her to marry me.”

Generally speaking, Bucky wouldn’t have told you his plans, but he is fairly certain you’re not going to remember this conversation in the morning. And, if you do, he isn’t too concerned because he is so very serious.

You make no effort to hide your disappointment, and you let your tears fall freely this time.

“Oh, okay. She’s so lucky. Does she make you happy?”

“Happier than I’ve ever been.”

“Oh. That’s good.”

You’re obviously upset, and you’re obviously unaware Bucky is talking about you. Sam is trying not to laugh, but his wide grin betrays him. Bucky, however, finds himself more concerned than entertained when you start to actually cry.

“Doll, what’s wrong?” He wipes a tear away with his thumb, softly holding your face.

“No!” You push his hand away, eyes going wide. “You have a girlfriend! She wouldn’t want you touchin’ me!”

He laughs then. He can’t help it. After all, his girlfriend would very much want him to touch you. You always have your hand interlaced with his, or your body snugly tucked into his side, or your hand in his hair, or… The list goes on.

“Hey, don’t laugh.” You frown.

“Sorry, sorry. ‘s just that my girlfriend loves when I touch you.”

Your eyebrows scrunch together in confusion.

“Why would she like for you to touch other women?”

Sam bursts into another round of laughter. He is struggling to breathe as he wordlessly points at the two of you, ignoring Bucky’s glare.

“Oh, Doll, she doesn’t. She hates it, really, and I never pay another dame a lick of attention. She’s the only one I’ve got eyes for.” He kisses your forehead, a form of punctuation to his assurance.

Your critical thinking skills, however, are formally shot.

“You’re lying! You’re paying me attention! And I’m not your girlfriend! What’s your girlfriend’s name? I’ve got to tell her you’re cheating. Girl code.”

Sam loses it again.

“Your girlfriend! You: cheating! Shit!” Sam barely manages to get a thought out. Bucky grins at his friend. He can’t deny that he is just as entertained by your antics.

He pulls out his phone, opening his contacts up to the one labeled “Dollface,” and hands it to you.

“Here,” he says, “call her.”

You nod and take his phone, hitting the call button and holding his cellphone to your ear.

A ringtone fills the night air and you frown when you feel a vibration in your back pocket. Clumsily, you pull your own cellphone out of your pocket and look down at the screen.

“JBB <3 is calling…” appears on your screen along with a candid photo of Bucky laughing.

You stare at it, and Sam and Bucky stare at you. You don’t do anything—don’t say anything, don’t move—until the call goes to voicemail. Finally you look up at Bucky.

“Why’d it call me?”

“Y/N, you’re my girlfriend,” Bucky finally says.

Your face breaks into a wide grin.

“No shit!”

—

“I wasn’t that drunk!” You insist the following morning.

Sam and Bucky exchange a look before laughing.

“Kid,” Sam says once he’s calmed down enough. “You asked Tin-man if he had a girlfriend and cried when he said yes.”

Your eyes go wide as you turn to Bucky for confirmation.

“You did, Doll,” he says, smiling.

You stare for a moment before shrugging and turning back to your coffee in front of you.

“Y’know what? That’s a totally reasonable reaction,” you say, leaning back into Bucky as he situates himself behind you and plants a loving kiss in your hair.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #marvel x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky barnes x reader fluff #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky x fem!reader #tfatws!bucky x reader #tfatws!bucky x fem!reader #tfatws #tfatws!bucky #marvel #marvel fluff #marvel x you #marvel x y/n

[rafeysdoll]

dad’s friend!rafe going into reader’s room after her father fell asleep and they like end up making out and he fingers her and shit!!!

thank you for requesting !! sorry i didn’t make them make out a whole lot i changed this up to not really be like their first time but if you all would want something like that lmk

the whole night passed by with small, lingering touches.. playing footsie under the dining table as you ate with the rest of the visiting company, passing words that you both knew were double meaning. even going as far to wear his favorite dress you had the second your father mentioned he was inviting his closest friend to eat with the rest of your family.

you couldn’t even properly place a timestamp for when it began, the lines blurring almost instantly after too many occasions of ignoring the tension between you both when your father introduced you two. one second barely able to keep his eye contact to now often finding yourself sneaking him into your room for a tumble in your bed.

and tonight you and rafe’s private routine follows. he comes over, you have dinner, you head up to get ready for bed as your father and rafe go to the backyard for a couple of drinks which ultimately ends with your father providing the guest room when rafe pretends to stumble along with him when they head back in — despite the fact rafe hasn’t had as much beers as your father’s intoxicated mind thinks.

and he’s back to being yours again.. lips entangled with your own as he drives his fingers inside your tight hole, your walls contracting around them as you whimper into the kiss, the squelching sound of your wetness causing your cheeks to burn up. he bites your bottom lip before pulling his face away, eyebrows furrowed as he stares down at your face reacting to his rough fingers. his own jaw slightly dropped in what could only be described as fascination.

“oh, oh ray.” you crumble, eyebrows knitted together tightly as you throw your head back onto your pillow, instinctively closing your legs around his hand as your pleasure drives you to heights you never knew. stuck between it being too much and wanting more.

rafe tsks, shaking his head. “you want me to stop? keep ‘em open.” he warns, your legs falling open again. “can’t help it, too good.” you cry breathlessly, your own lungs barely able to play catch up. “yeah? what’s too good?” that question as well as his tone opens up your fuzzy mind to know that rafe was preparing to degrade you, a small whimper passing your lips.

you stay silent, still dwelling in to the beautiful feeling he was giving you. “hey, come on. tell me,” he presses, slapping your flushed cheek and waking you up from your haziness. “i— i don’t know, everything.”you mumble up, brain barely able to form a coherent sentence. “no no, come on. find your words.”

he demands, fingers curling deep inside you. “tell me you like doing this while your dad sleeps next door.” he extends, fingers squishing your g-spot. “i.. i like it when you do this,” you whimper, barely able to structure your words. “thats- thats not all i asked you,” he insists, thumb finding your bundle of nerves and harshly pushing his thumb down. “you wanna cum, dont you?” he persuades, smiling when you bob your head as a form of agreeing. “then go on.”

“like doing this when he sleeps next door, i.. i like being your secret.” you confess pitifully, closing your eyes. “yeah, there it is pretty.” he adds, nodding to himself when you gush out your pearly liquids.

at least you got the “meet the parents” deal down, right?

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