#like i said this world is often horrible. life is so hard & dark sometimes. anything that brings you light & comfort is a good thing | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hiddlesbummmm · 2 years

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Thank you sweet anons for being so patient as I got this written. I know it’s been awhile!

I have been doing some thinking, and I have decided that at this time, I’m going to close my Supernatural requests. I’m starting to feel a little burned out and just am not getting the inspiration I was previously. I will still keep all the supernatural fic requests on my upcoming fic page, but will most likely not write them very fast.

Sorry for all my Supernatural fans💕 I love you all so much. This is nothing permanent, I just need to give myself some time to be more creative again💕

For now, my prompts will stay closed as I finish my Marvel fics, but will hopefully open up soon!

Without further ado, here’s my newest fic. I hope you all enjoy 💕

Original prompt ideas - here, here, here, and here!

Warnings: SFW Tickles

Word count: 2746 Ler Dean X Lee Reader

Down in the Dumps

The Men of Letters library. One of the only quiet places in the bunker. You were typically never one to read. The only time you did sit down with a novel was when you were feeling low. It was your way of escaping the hardships of life and drowning yourself in a fantasy world. And lately, you had been feeling defeated almost every day.

The library was a safe space where you could be surrounded by complete and utter silence. Occasionally, Sam would burrow up in the library when he was researching, but even still he wasn’t a distraction. Sam was like you in the way that he also enjoyed sitting in silence while reading or researching.

Your boyfriend Dean, on the other hand, was almost always a distraction, no matter the circumstance. You loved him dearly, but his energy could sometimes be overwhelming especially when you were feeling low. Luckily for you, he avoided the library like the plague. Dean claimed the library was filled with nonsense and reading made his brain hurt. You loved Dean more than anything else in the world, but you were the type of person who needed to take a mental break during hardships before you could talk about it. The two of you had an unspoken agreement that if you were in the library, it meant you wanted some alone time.

Reading was your one way to escape reality and dream. Your favorite genre of book was mystery. This often made you laugh because your entire life of based on the mystery of not knowing.

Books with monsters didn’t usually pique your interest because you saw and dealt with enough of them that you didn’t want to fill your mind with more.

Even though hunting was a job where money was hard to come by, Dean always graciously saved enough for you to buy new books every once and a while. Obviously they were thrift store finds, but the thought is what counted and you were grateful nonetheless.

This last week had been nothing but a shit show. The only positive thing that had happened was killing the stupid witches that had hexed an entire neighborhood.

But of course, it hadn’t ended well. Nothing that involves witches ever ends well.

It was your first time dealing with witches. Dean was hesitant to even let you go because he was afraid you would accidentally come home with a hex bag and lose all your teeth or something.

Castiel swore he would use his angel grace to help detect said dark magic and protect you, so Dean budged and allowed you to help.

The two witches you were looking for were posing as nice retired widows who participated in all sorts of community service and strived to help others.

Obviously, this was all a lie.

Who would dare mess with the sweet elderly widows down the street?

No one except for the Winchesters.

According to Sam, the 2 women had been secretly placing hex bags inside their neighbor's houses and cars. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason for it either. But unfortunately, each victim died a horrible death.

The group of you decided that the witches were just sadists who wanted to hurt people. These were by far the worst because everyone was a target for no reason other than being human.

Dean decided that before you could successfully kill the witches, you had to find the remaining hex bags in the neighbor's houses. If the hex bags remained after the witches were killed, it could trigger them to go off.

Since Cass can sense the dark magic, he was able to point out what houses were dangerous and needed to be checked. You, Sam, and Dean threw on a local Gas company attire and knocked on the doors claiming there was a gas leak and their house needed to be checked. It was an easy enough ruse, and the neighbors gladly let you all in. It was decided you all split up to cover ground the quickest. It was also decided that it was safest if Cass went back to the bunker because if he could sense dark magic, you didn’t want to risk the witches sensing Castiel’s grace.

Once Cass was gone, Sam and Dean quickly gave you the crash course on how to find hex bags. You were to look in all crevices, noting any changes in smell or mood. Important places to check included cabinets, drawers under beds, on the couch, etc. Feeling confident, you searched your assigned houses.

The first couple of houses had a couple of hex bags hidden. You nearly exploded when you found one under a baby crib. Vampires used to be your most feared monster, but now witches were on the top of your list.

When you finally got to the last house, something just didn’t feel right. Castiel had mentioned that hex bags can change the energy or mood of a house, and you understood what he meant. This house felt heavy and depressing. The only problem was you searched and searched and ended up empty-handed. You were frustrated because you felt like one had to be here, but the family was starting to get suspicious the longer you lingered.

As you met up with Sam and Dean, the three of you had found a total of 13 bags. Which meant you had potentially saved 13 lives today. You felt a wave of relief fall over you. Recently, all your hunts had gone south, so it felt great to finally get a win.

Sam and Dean left you in charge of destroying the bags while they killed the witches once and for all. You waited anxiously in the car for a couple of hours. You started to get nervous until you saw the brothers running down the street. They were both pretty bloody and beat up, but were successful. Cass couldn’t stay away, so he helped the brothers fight them off.

You gave Dean a long kiss in celebration and may have also whispered some sweet nothings in his ear to celebrate later. But then the worst happened.

Just as Dean pulled down the street, there was a huge explosion from one of the houses. It took only seconds for the house to explode into flames.

You screamed out in a panic as you realized that was one of your houses. Your last house to be exact. You balled your eyes out as Dean kept driving. You must have missed a hex bag.

It was hard to talk about it the next couple of days. You had isolated yourself in the library and only talked to the brothers when you said goodnight or thanked them for bringing you dinner.

Dean respected your need for grieving and kindly snuggled you while you cried late at night. Dean had told you it wasn’t your fault. Witches were creative and it might have been hidden in a really out-of-place spot. You knew you couldn’t entirely blame yourself, but you were still down in the dumps about it.

Four days after the incident, the unexpected happened.

You were in your usual spot, curled up in the library reading a book. You were so lost in the pages you almost had a heart attack when Dean grunted to get your attention.

“Holy Shit Dean! You can’t sneak up on me like that!” You said with an eye roll.

Dean smiled kindly at you, a soft twinkle in his eye. This was the look he gave you when he knew you needed space but also wanted to check in on you.

“I just came to see if I can put Humpty Dumpty back together again”. Dean teased.

You gently closed your book and placed it on the nearby end table signaling to Dean that he had your full attention.

Dean sat down on the couch next to you and put his hand on your thigh; caressing it gently as he started to talk.

“You know I hate seeing you mope about”

“I know Dean. I just wish I could go back in time and find that damn hex bag. That was a family of 4 and they all died because I couldn’t find one stupid hex bag.”

As you finished speaking, tears started forming in your eyes.

Dean pulled you closer to him and gave you a chaste kiss on the forehead.

“Baby, you know you are not to blame for that. Those damn witches are the ones who did this. The longer you mope around carrying around their guilt, the longer it will take for you to recover.”

You gave Dean a weak smile. As much as you hated to admit it, he was right. It wasn’t your fault. Sad as it was, you couldn’t blame yourself for what the witches did.

“You are absolutely right. I’m not to blame. I guess I just still feel sad about it. At least I have you to cheer me up, especially with that goofy face of yours” you said teasingly.

Dean gave you a look that you knew meant “You’re in trouble now”.

You giggled as Dean looked at you very mischievously.

“Well, In that case, this goofy-faced SOB has a job to do. Are you still ticklish by chance Y/N?”

You immediately giggled and blushed when he said that dreaded word.

Dean smirked.

“You see Humpty Dumpty, laughter is the best medicine and I miss your laugh! So I’m going to make you a deal. I want to tickle you because I miss your laugh. If you don’t let me, I’m going to have to hold you down and do it myself. But if you play nice, I’ll reward your laughter with pie and ice cream. How does that sound?”

You were stuck in a catch 22 and Dean knew you knew it too. You loved his playfulness and enjoyed being tickled. But being able to just sit there and take it? Impossible.

You decided to take the hard road. Instead of answering him, you jumped from your spot and attempted to leap over the back of the couch and escape.

Unfortunately, Dean suspected that might happen, so he was up in an instant, grabbing you by the waist and tackling you back down onto the couch.

“I was hoping you would do that” Dean said with a snarl.

“I knew you just wanted to be pinned down and tickled until I give you mercy! Now where to begin?”

You were already giggling at your boyfriend. Dean wasn’t lying when he said you were going to be pinned down and forced to take it.

Dean had wrestled you down to where you were on your side with him pressed firmly against your back. Your right arm was pinned between the couch and your hip, and your left arm was held tightly by Dean. Dean had also wrapped his legs around yours which pulled you taught. You were very much stuck and exposed.

“I’m all cheered up now Deahehehen!! No!”

Dean didn’t want to hear you complain, so he had started ghosting over your belly when you started talking.

“Now it’s been a while since I’ve tickled you, but I do remember that this cute little belly of yours is ranked number 1. Especially this little hole in the middle of it.”

You shrieked as Dean dipped a finger inside your navel, relieved that it was only for a second.

“But unfortunately, I seemed to forget the rest of your spots. Care to share your top ten worst spots, or do I need to find them myself?”

You shook your head “No” and frantically tried to wriggle out of his grasp with no avail. If he was going to torment you, he might as well work for it.

“Fine. If that’s how you want to play, I’m game.” Dean sneered.

“I think I’m gonna start up here with your neck. It looks mighty tasty!”

You barely had enough time to breathe before Dean started nibbling on your neck and blowing raspberries.

Your neck did not make you fall into deep belly laughter, but it sure made you giggle like a schoolgirl.

You wiggled and tried to scrunch up your shoulders, but the position you were in made that impossible. Dean was able to fend off your shoulders and rubbed his stubble on your exposed skin.

“I think I’m gonna rank this spot a 6. You sure squirm a lot, but it’s the laughter that I want. Where to next?”

Dean mockingly tapped his fingers on your arm, right above where your ribcage was. That bastard knew how bad a spot your ribs were too.

“Oh! I know! I think I ought to count these ribs and make sure none are injured!”

Before you could brace yourself, Dean quickly shifted his position to roll you onto your belly with your arm pinned beneath his knees.

You cried out in protest as you realized he now had full access to your rib cages and both hands to tear you apart with.

“De-Dean no!! I’ll tell you! My ribs are a 2, please don’t do this! I’m happy now see!?”

You turned your head to the side and gave Dean the biggest cheesiest grin you could muster.

Dean laughed and leaned down to plant a kiss on your lips.

“A 2 you say, sweetheart? That means your ribs are really bad. As much as I would love to give you mercy, I need to make sure you aren’t lying to me and have another bad spot you are hiding from me.”

Dean winked at you and you prematurely started giggling in anticipation.

And it was just as bad as you imagined it would be. Dean was merciless.

He clamped all ten fingers on your ribcage and methodically pinched, poked, prodded, and wriggled his fingertips into all of your sensitive spots. You didn’t stand a chance!

You immediately started cracking up into loud booming laughter intermixed with shrills and squeaks. Dean noted that you were most likely spitting out profanities too, but they were completely unrecognizable.

All you could do was lay your head on the couch cushion and take the ticklish sensations. Dean’s tickling only got worse when he decided to also slip one hand onto your belly, which was pinned to the couch.

He couldn’t form a full claw, but he was able to vibrate his wrist and fingers making the sensation nearly unbearable.

His weight on your back made it impossible to arch away from him, so you were left to your ticklish demise.

Thankfully Dean was only able to extract a few ticklish shrieks from you after dipping his finger into your navel again because Sam walked in just in time to save you.

“Woah Dean! It doesn’t take a genius to see that she is feeling better!”

Dean immediately ceased his attack at the sound of his brother's voice. He climbed off your back and pulled you into a side hug, so you could catch your breath and rest on his shoulder.

“You better have a good reason to interrupt us, Sammy, because I was conducting a good science experiment.”

Sam rolled his eyes and mocked embarrassment.

“Sorry to interrupt, but I think you will want to see this.”

Sam pulled out a newspaper article from behind his back and handed it to Dean. Reading over his shoulder, it said

BREAKING NEWS

“Local gas company hero saves family by warning them of a potential gas leak. The family evacuated the home minutes before their house erupted into flames. Authorities are still looking for this anonymous hero….”

Your breath hitched and the world around you went quiet.

The family had survived.

Even though you were exhausted from all the tickles, you jumped from the couch and gave Sam a huge hug, thanking him over and over for finding the article.

Sam left the room soon after delivering the best news ever as you stared at your devious little boyfriend.

“You tickle the daylights out of me for no reason! What do you have to say for yourself?!”

Dean chuckled and slowly stood from his seat.

“All I got to say is….. I still have more spots to rank!”

Within moments, Dean had you pinned again and the dreaded tickle monster started his work again.

You wouldn’t trade this life for anything.

Especially now that Humpty Dumpty was indeed put back together again.

#supernatural tickle fic #anon request #dean winchester tickle fic #dean x reader #Fluffy tickles #tickle fanfiction #Winchester tickles #hiddlesbummmm fics

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cyarsk52-20 · 1 year

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'Beef' Stars Respond to David Choe Rape Controversy: 'We've Seen Him Put in the Work'

Denver Sean

After much controversy, the stars of Netflix’s hit show ‘Beef’ have responded to resurfaced criticism against cast member David Choe.

In recent days, a 2014 podcast interview resurfaced where he had joked about being the “successful rapist” of a Black woman during a massage.

via Variety:

On Friday, “Beef” creator Lee Sung Jin and executive producers and stars Steven Yeun and Ali Wong released a statement to Variety, calling Choe’s story “undeniably hurtful and extremely disturbing” but that he’s “put in the work to get the mental health support he needed.”

“The story David Choe fabricated nine years ago is undeniably hurtful and extremely disturbing. We do not condone this story in any way, and we understand why this has been so upsetting and triggering. We’re aware David has apologized in the past for making up this horrific story, and we’ve seen him put in the work to get the mental health support he needed over the last decade to better himself and learn from his mistakes,” they said.

In resurfaced clips of the 2014 “DVDASA” podcast episode, Choe told co-host Asa Akira a sexually explicit story about a massage he received from a massage therapist he calls Rose. “I’m getting turned on just telling this story,” he said in the footage. “I just take her hand and I put it on my dick. She just holds it there.”

Choe detailed numerous sexual acts and ended the story by saying, “The thrill of possibly going to jail, that’s what achieved the erection quest.” Akira replied, “Ew, you’re basically telling us that you’re a rapist now, and that the only way to get your dick really hard is rape.” Choe responded, “Yeah,” then answered other guests’ questions about Rose’s appearance. “What the fuck is wrong with you guys?” Akira asked. “Who cares what she looks like? Dave is telling us he’s a rapist.” He joked in response, “A successful rapist.”

Choe originally responded to the backlash in 2014, denying he was a rapist in a statement and saying that the podcast was “a complete extension of his art” as a storyteller.

“I never thought I’d wake up one late afternoon and hear myself called a rapist. It sucks. Especially because I am not one. I am not a rapist. I hate rapists, I think rapists should be raped and murdered,” he said at the time. “I am an artist and a storyteller and I view my show ‘DVDASA’ as a complete extension of my art. If I am guilty of anything, it’s bad storytelling in the style of douche. Just like many of my paintings are often misinterpreted, the same goes with my show. The main objective of all of my podcasts is to challenge and provoke my friends and the co-stars on the show. We fuck with each other, entertain ourselves and laugh at each other. It’s a dark, tasteless, completely irreverent show where we fuck with everyone listening, but mostly ourselves. We create stories and tell tales. It’s not a news show. It’s not a representation of my reality. It’s not the place to come for reliable information about me or my life. It’s my version of reality, it’s art that sometimes offends people. I’m sorry if anyone believed that the stories were fact. They were not! In a world full of horrible people, thank god for us.”

He doubled down on the apology and posted a statement in 2017, writing “I have zero history of sexual assault. I am deeply sorry for any hurt I’ve brought to anyone through my past words.” He also revealed he had went through three years of recovery and rehabilitation.

Clips of the “DVDASA” podcast resurfaced on Twitter last week, but some of them were removed with Digital Millennium Copyright Act (DMCA) notices that were filed seemingly by Choe himself under the David Young Choe Foundation. The DMCA notices called the Twitter videos “copyright infringing media” and asked for their “immediate” removal.

“Beef” released on Netflix on April 6, after which it rose to No. 2 on Netflix’s Top 10 list of English-language shows. In its second week of release, it received over 70 million hours viewed. Opposite Yeun and Wong, Choe plays Isaac, the older, frequently-incarcerated cousin of Yeun’s character Danny. Choe, who is a painter and artist, supplied the artwork for nine episodes’ title cards.

This statement smell like PR cover — and we’re not buying it.

Sent from my iPhone

Not-Black POC perpetuate and benefit from anti-Blackness,

Are NOT the natural allies of Black people and CANNOT be trusted to do the right thing regarding Black people without prompting FROM Black people.

Only rapists think it's OK to "joke" about violating the bodily autonomy of someone else, and David Choe went so far as to describe this Black woman's looks IN DETAIL,

So Ali Wong and Steven Yeun are sticking beside David Choe, covering for a rapist,

Cause ANYTHING for Asian media representation.

They coulda kept this li'l statement, cause it just added insult to injury.

As for the show, I’m not watching.

Asians you must do better and condemn the antiblackness in your community

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munsontm · 1 year

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🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟 — & steve ofc

Send 🌟 for a headcanon about our muses’ relationship / accepting / @harringtontm & @musecraft

These will be from our various and many verses.

Eddie always ropes Steve into watching true crime documentaries with him. No one else is really interested in watching them with him, except for maybe Robin. But mostly he just likes having someone to bounce theories back and forth with about the how's and whys. Steve is a very observant person, who likely picks up on things that Eddie misses because he's too busy fixating on one thin in particular.

Fantasy verse: once Eddie is finally established as Steve's prince consort, he begins training as the kingdom of Hawkin's chief sorcerer. A chunk of the court are against the idea of having a chief sorcerer because it would mean Eddie has the power to route out any bad seeds or threats to the throne with a simple truth serum. So during this training period, there is more than one attempt on Eddie's life, which just proves to Steve all the more that a court sorcerer is needed. Of course, any of Eddie's would be assassins are executed immediately..often by Steve's own hand.

Normal life au: in this verse, Eddie eventually ends up with glasses since he spends large amounts of time staring at a computer screen to write his novels and magazine pieces. But the problem with that is that Eddie constantly loses said glasses, daily sometimes. Steve doesn't necessarily get fed up with this happening all the time, but he doesn't like seeing Eddie get all wound up from something so small. His solution is to get Eddie a glasses chain to wear around his neck and keep the glasses attached to. Eddie complains that he looks like an old man, but he loses them far less after Steve gives him the chain.

zombie apocalypse verse: given how the five years apart have changed both of them greatly, things aren't as easy between them as they once were. The feelings are still there, absolutely. But a lot has been damaged, including the intimacy they once shared. Physical affection used to be like breathing air to them, hugs, kisses, sex, hand holding, nose rubbing, the whole shebang. Gone. Getting it back is hard because of all they've been through, Eddie in particular who was alone for a prolonged period of time in a world not built for him. One of the ways they begin to close the gap that's been formed between them is by doing wall patrols together of their settlement, or as Steve's refers to it as---date night. Eddie doesn't seem to like talking about his experiences, but it's less so at night. Maybe because Steve can't see him as well in the dark, or maybe horrible things are best saved for talking about at night, he isn't sure. It's just easier to speak of at night on their "dates". But with each confession comes the comfort from Steve that he remembers from before all the death. It sparks as a reminder that the man he fell for on a random blind date is still in there, and still wants to be there for him, touch him, tell him that it'll be okay.

In honour of Sunday, the last one is kinky af so under a read more.

Modern: Eddie has a particular perversion towards getting banged by Steve in a slasher costume. Yup. It's not something he asks for regularly, and it's completely safe, sane and consensual. But when he's in the mood, the request is made, and if Steve doesn't want to play, then it's dropped. I will say that this doesn't involve Eddie getting hit or stabbed in anyway...apart from by Steve's dick. There is a darker element to it. But as I said, everything is consensual and talked about in-depth before anything happens.

#𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗 : 𝚖𝚢 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍? 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎. 🎸#ship. whenever i’m alone with you; you make me feel like i am whole again ( harringtontm ) 💙#meme answers 🛡️#harringtontm #musecraft #au. a simple life for me & you feat. harringtontm.#v. zombies and shit.#v. the legendary bard.#v. modern.

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silversatoru · 3 years

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can you please do a gojo x reader from when gojo is a second year? the reader would be a really powerful sorcerer and everyone, including him, is super in love with her bc she’s basically the female version of him (except not an asshole) and he starts to realize he’s starting to catch feelings as they become friends but he knows that he has too much on his hands and doesn’t want to ruin things with her so he never does anything about it and instead goes on meaningless dates to have fun (pls make it angsty!!!) and she’s a strong person so she tries to not make it look like it gets to her!!! you can add anything else (:

denial

gojo satoru x f!reader

synopsis: you and satoru were destined for each other, but he fucked up one too many times

tags/warnings: angst, student gojo is a complete whore, that’s it lmao

a/n: i have been craving some straight up angst, thank u <3

you and satoru have always gone head to head — rivals since you became a student here at tokyo metropolitan curse technical college. he was born with the admired six eyes, enhancing his already spectacular abilities he inherited from the gojo bloodline. and you were the one born to challenge him, the one responsible for keeping his massive ego in check.

your jujutsu technique wasn’t quite as flashy as his — and you didn’t get cool icy blue eyes that were so bright they could practically glow in the dark — but you were incredibly powerful, and that’s what mattered. you’ve made satoru question himself since the day you met, and because of that you often resided inside his head even when he didn’t want you there. satoru didn’t like when his title as “the strongest student” was disputed, but there was something about your ability to threaten him that lead to an infatuation.

the day he realized he loved you was the worst day of his life, because as much as he wanted to obey his feelings, it was in both of your best interest for him to ignore them. satoru had a target on his back, and if he drug you into the mess that was his life of responsibility, it would ruin the friendship you two already had. he promised himself that he’d be content with staying friends — that he’d protect you even if it cost him his heart.

so, he filled the void with other girls — girls who were sorcerers and girls who weren’t, he really wasn’t picky. the way that his dorm room had quickly turned into a revolving door of new girls disgusted you, but you stood no position to question him. the two of you never dated, never even considered dating, but you’d be lying if you said there wasn’t some tension.

you’ve loved satoru for far too long, and for a while you were convinced that he felt the same way. it wasn’t until he started seeing practically every girl in tokyo that you realized he didn’t. he was selfish, he was an asshole, and he had a massive ego — you were dumb to think that he’d ever feel that way for you. you both carried the same burden, and you thought that made you special, but it didn’t.

except for that it did. in satoru’s eyes, you were the most special thing he’d ever seen. these girls were just a distraction — he really didn’t want them, he wanted you. he wanted you more than anything, but you were off limits; he refused to drag you into his world.

being next in line after satoru in terms of power meant that you were reasonably popular yourself. people are drawn to power — that’s why they love satoru and that’s why they love you. maybe that’s why suguru asked you to lunch one day — or maybe he actually liked you, you weren’t quite sure. it was always so hard to tell.

but the lunch went well; suguru was sweet and treated you with complete kindness. it was the utter opposite of talking to satoru, who was cocky and horribly over-confident. you enjoyed it, you really did, but you felt nothing but guilt when you looked at suguru and wished that satoru was sitting in his place. it was unfair to make false promises to the dark-haired boy — promises that you didn’t mean and couldn’t fulfill, so you didn’t.

sorry, suguru, i just don’t think i’m looking for this kind of thing right now.

is it satoru? is that why?

no, i-

it’s okay, i see the way you look him, it’s the same way he looks at you — like you’re both behind glass, unable to reach each other.

and that was that.

but satoru didn’t catch wind of your rejection, he’d just heard you were in the city with suguru — on a date. it infuriated him, knowing that his best friend was stealing the girl of his dreams, but it’s not like he’d ever been honest about his feelings either. no one knew his genuine feelings towards you; honestly sometimes even he forgot about them. in fact, he was forgetting about them right now as he drowned himself in another girl’s soft lips and flowery perfume.

the taste of her tongue against his was stale, and he imagined that yours would taste much better — in fact sometimes he actually liked to imagine that it was you. but he had to remind himself that things were better this way for you; suguru would treat you better than someone like him ever could.

so you could imagine his surprise when you showed up at his door that night, angry tears leaking from your furious eyes.

“i’m in love with you, satoru,” you stated matter-of-factly as soon as he opened the door; but it was more of a threat and less of a statement.

it felt good to get it off your chest, to finally make your feelings known and feel the weight melt off your shoulders. you’d been confining it all within yourself for much too long.

“you’re what?” his expression was one of bewilderment; “weren’t you just out with suguru?”

“yeah,” you sighed, demeanor falling to the floor as you relived the guilt of turning him down, “he’s sweet, but when i looked at him, all i wanted to see was you”.

it pained your heart to admit that — part of you wished that you would have fallen for suguru instead, things would certainly be easier.

satoru held his tongue, which he doesn’t do very often, and really mulled over what he would say to you next. he decided that maybe things could work out between the two of you — maybe he could love you and keep you safe all at once. maybe, just maybe, the two of you could thrive more together than you ever did on your own. maybe he was ignorant to ever think differently.

“i love you t-,” the words fell from his tongue so easily, like they were meant to be there all along — he was stepping forward, arm outstretched, ready to hold your face in his hand like he’d always dreamed of doing.

“satoru, who the hell-,” a female voice interrupted, his cracked door swinging open and revealing a girl you’d never seen before.

he was so stupid, so stupidly wrapped up in his own world that he’d forgotten about the other girl who was waiting in his room. and now he was frozen in time, inches from kissing you, holding you, enveloping you in his arms for the first time.

your face twisted in disgust, hot tears watering in your eyes as your last shred of hope shattered to the floor. he was so full of himself that he was willing to confess his love to you while another girl sat inside his room. gojo satoru was a piece of shit.

if only he’d known how much he’d destroy your friendship by trying to ‘save’ it. if only he’d known how much he’d miss you once you were gone. if only he’d taken the chance and loved you the way you deserved to be loved, when you deserved it.

the two of you were destined for each other, but he fucked up one too many times.

#jujutsu kaisen drabble #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen angst #jjk drabbles #jjk imagines #jjk angst #gojo satoru angst #satoru gojo #gojo saturo #gojo satoru x female reader #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x female reader #gojo x reader

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ellana-ravenwood · 3 years

Text

The art of taking care of the woman you love - Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader

Synopsis : You’ve always had really bad period pains. You learned to live with it, and to take care of yourself during those times...Up until a certain Bruce Wayne came into your life, and made it his mission to be there for you.

For @meghan-maria, who gotta be the sweetest out there :), and for anyone who ever had really bad period pains. I hope you will like it :

TW : periods. It’s obvious given the theme, but I guess we never know and better safe than sorry.

My master list : @ella-ravenwood-archives

_________________________________________________

The First time it happened

It’s the fact you cancelled your planned date with him without an explanation that makes him worry.

“Sorry, can’t make it tonight. Will see you tomorrow !”

You never did that before, and you two were so busy neither of you would miss a date really. Not unless something bad or important happened. But then in that case, you would’ve told him, no ?

It made him so anxious. And he was starting to clearly overthink things.

Were you maybe...having second thoughts ?

You and Bruce made your relationship official not long ago, was the media’s pressure becoming too much ? You told him you’d be fine, but after a few months experiencing the plague that were paparazzi and invasive questions, did you change your mind ?

Or maybe it was because of the whole Batman thing ? You discovered that a while ago, even before making your relationship official so...why would you change your mind about it now ?

Maybe he came home with too many cuts and bruises. Maybe you were freaking out ? He would understand if you did.

Or...There was a last option that came to his mind : he upset you somehow.

It was entirely possible, sometimes he could get stuck in his own mind, and be a jerk without even truly realizing it. He knew that fact very well about himself. It was often the reason of how he ruined multiple relationships, friends or more.

The way he sometimes just got too focused on his vigilante work. Too obsessed. And could be stuck in a “dark mode” like you’d say...

But, he also knew that you never took any of his shit. You would’ve told him if something was really the matter, right ?

Right ?!

Should he ask Alfred if he noticed anything ? His butler, and surrogate father, always saw things that escaped him. Especially when it came to feelings.

This was a less known trait about Bruce, but ever since he was a child, he’s always been anxious. He was usually really good at hiding it, and his “Brucie Wayne” persona made everyone think it wasn’t possible for him to be anything else but confident and cocky but...it wasn’t true.

Especially when it came to those he cared about. Especially when it came to you.

You loved him despite his flaws, accepted him fully, without any conditions. It was the first time it ever happened, that he LET it happen...So, with this simple plan cancellation that was quite unlike you, he freaked out a bit.

In the middle of the day, he finally decided to call you. One. Two. Three tones before you picked up, and oh. Oh he felt so relieved to hear your little “hello ?”

At the same time, his worry peaked. Was it just him, or did you sound really weak ?

“Hey honey, just wanted to check if you were alright ? Your text was a little short, and I know you don’t owe me any explanations of course, but I just wanted to check on you. You know. I-um...”

Clumsy Brooshy.

It made you smile, the way he could be a little flustered and lose his words, when with you. And it made you smile even wider that he chose to call you to make sure everything was ok.

Sweet Broosh.

If you really didn’t want to talk to him, you wouldn’t have answered. And he wasn’t the kind of man to “insist”. He would’ve left a voice message, and leave you alone until you felt like calling him back. Bruce was most definitely not invasive...but at the same time, you’d never leave him worrying for no reasons, knowing how anxious he could be.

The truth was, your text was short because...You didn’t know how to tell him the reasons you needed to cancel your date. You didn’t want to embarrass him. Men didn’t really like to talk about what you currently were suffering from.

You also were a little embarrassed yourself, because the entire society surrounding you made you feel wrong for having periods.

Periods.

One week a month. Every single months. That was a lot.

Especially for you because...you always had complicated and difficult periods. Painful. Making you feel like you couldn’t move. The pain making it impossible for you to even get out of bed for long.

You and Bruce had been dating for a while but...weren’t periods sort of a taboo subject ? You didn’t really know how to tell him. Especially since most men really seemed uncomfortable with the all thing.

Of course, you should’ve know Bruce wasn’t “most men”.

“Baby, are you there ?”

“Um yes yes, sorry I was lost in thoughts.”

“Are you ok ? You don’t sound right.”

The most observant man in the World was obviously going to realize your voice sounded weaker than usually. The truth was, you were trying really hard to keep it steady as pain filled your being.

“Yes yes, I’m ok, just feeling a bit...under the weather ?”

“Is there anything I can do ? Is it a cold or something ? If so, I can bring you buy some chicken noodle soup, and pick up any meds you might need.”

You almost cried at his words.

Super busy bee Bruce Wayne was telling you he’d go out of his way to bring you what you needed...It made you crack a little.

He was too damn nice. And your hormones were in shambles. It was very easy right now for you to cry.

This. How willing he was to help you, how he immediately asked if he could...Was what made you say the truth without thinking twice :

“I’m-I’m on my periods. They’re usually- They’re usually bad.”

“Oh.”

His response scared you a little bit. Were you right, was this maybe too much, too soon ? You were about to add something when he said :

“I’ll be there in about an hour, if it’s ok with you ? If you prefer to be alone I can send-”

“No ! No, I would love for you to come. I just-I wasn’t sure-I-”

“It’s ok. I understand. See you in a bit, love you.”

“Love you, too.”

On that note, Bruce hung up and leaves you with a wild beating heart.

************

Exactly an hour later, your doorbell rings.

With difficulties, you stand up, and go open the door. Surely enough, it’s your boyfriend.

“Hi.”

He has a bag in his hand, and you melt a little at the soft look and smile he gives you (even if there’s clear concerns behind it). You let him in, and go sit on the couch, even if just sitting up is already too much.

“Do you want to lie down ?”

“No. No I’m fine. You came all the way here, I can’t just stay in bed haha.”

“Of course you can.”

There’s a small silence for a little bit. Not awkward, you’re just not quite sure what to do. Should you go back to bed ? You really want to. And clearly, he understands. He always does.

“Ok.”

You stand, and wince because moving really makes everything worst. He approaches you, worried, but doesn’t dare to touch you and just follows you into your room. You get back in your comfy bed, under your comfy comforter.

Another silence. Until he breaks it, taking something out of the bag he was carrying and saying :

“So. I wasn’t sure you had a hot water bottle, I don’t ever recall seeing one in your apartment. So I bought one on the way just in case. Sorry if you don’t like the color, I can pick another one up later. It’s just, the woman on YouTube said that heat pads and hot water bottles were great.”

“The...woman on YouTube ?”

“Yes, I watched a video on menstruations on the way here.”

For a few seconds, you just stare at him, stunned. Never EVER in your entire life did you think you would hear THE Bruce Wayne say those words one day.

“A video on menstruations ?”

“Well, yes. Obviously, I don’t have periods. So I have no idea what it feels like. So I watched a video, to understand the process. And also so that you wouldn’t have to explain anything to me. You know what periods are, you don’t have to educate me on it. It’s not your job. And I definitely don’t want to sound patronizing about it. So I watched a video, and read a few articles. I won’t say I know how it feels, but I understand it more. Tell me if I ever step my bounds at any moment..”

You can’t help but smile, even as your lower belly is on fire. Ah. Of course he would search things about it. Bruce was the kind of man to be thorough in his researches before tackling a problem. As Batman, he always tried to know everything there is to know about a situation before finding any solutions. But he was like that in real life too.

And it particularly touched you that he did it so you wouldn’t have to explain...You had an ex, once, who sat down with you to talk about menstruations and it sort of drove you crazy. He thought it was nice, but your hormones were wreaking HAVOC and he was trying to explain to you how periods work and what it felt like ??? Give you advice about it and that it would be fine if you did what he said ?? Excuse me ??? As if you didn’t try everything already to feel less pain. And as if, as a woman, you didn’t know what it felt like or what it was exactly...

And there came Bruce. Reading up on it. And knowing he would never quite know how it feels. But educating himself so he won’t say something that could trigger you in any way.

Sweet sweet man...If only people knew.

He caressed your cheek softly, before whispering :

“Then I-I watched something on endometriosis, because I read in a previous article it felt horrible. And you said your periods were bad, when we were on the phone. It sounds awful. Do you-...Have endometriosis ?”

You shake your head weakly. Endometriosis was one of the reason why your periods were so painful and dreaded. And the worst ? It was a sickness many people said didn’t even exist.

A woman being in pain during her periods ? Drama queen. Right ? It didn’t hurt that baaaaad. See, some women didn’t feel anything, just bled for a bit and moved on with their months. So obviously every women felt the same. Some were just being too sensitive...

Endometriosis was still, even to this day, a rather unknown illness and one that was rarely taken seriously. Some people just couldn’t even fathom you being in pain because of your periods, so much so that you couldn’t move.

That you occasionally fainted, that you couldn’t eat much because it made you vomit, that you had awful migraines, stomach ache and back pain. That you couldn’t focus or sleep because of it. No.

No those were just “made up symptoms” because you were “weak”...What awful things to say, right ? It was even worst to hear. Someone telling you this, as you felt like you were dying because of the pain, made you feel GUILTY to have painful periods.

But it wasn’t your fault ? IT WASN’T YOUR FAULT ?! Nor were the moodswings, the cravings, the fatigue...

You hated going to the doctors when you were younger, because you knew he wouldn’t believe you when you said your periods hurt...

Anyway. Even without endometriosis, women who had bad periods pain were rarely taken seriously. Unless they met another woman who felt the same. Then they’d feel like they weren’t alone, or crazy. Like there were others who felt bad too.

Every woman was different. And you unfortunately never met someone else with the same problems than you...

You felt very alone, for so long, and it was enhanced by your hormones going crazy and the pain being unbearable at times.

And then, in come Bruce.

Your Broosh.

“Ok. Well. I brought you some of your favorite food. And um, I picked up some snacks if you want to do a movie marathon ? I brought all The Lord of the Rings extended editions. I got heat pads and a hot water bottle like I said. We can also just cuddle and relax if you prefer, I read that physical comfort was good ? Or, I can leave everything here, settle you in properly, and leave you alone. Just, tell me what you need my love ?”

What did...you need ?

Nobody ever asked you that. Nobody. Not even your parents.

What did you need ?

The answer came quickly.

Him. You need him. His warmth. His large and soothing hands. His comforting presence. His calming voice.

You knew you were in love with him since a while now. You exchanged “I love yous” already. But never did you feel as much love for him as right now, seeing him sitting in front of you, asking you what you needed...

A simple action. Simple words. And yet, it meant everything.

“What do you need, honey ?”

The concern in his eyes, and how he was very obviously ready to do whatever you wanted him to.

It already made you feel better. The physical pain didn’t go down, that’s not how it worked unfortunately. But the emotional anguish ? Gone.

Because he was there.

Without even realizing it, you started crying. This was too much for your heart, too overwhelming. It meant the World, in that moment.

It meant the world, to you and your overworked hormones. And so you cried. You cried hard.

Without thinking twice, Bruce moved towards you. Taking his coat off and leaving it on the floor (Alfred would scold him about this for sure), he climbs in your bed and engulfs you in his arms. And it’s so warm and comforting, comfortable, too.

“Just tell me what you need..”

He whispered to you, in his deep calming voice, his fingers running soothingly through your hair.

“Could you just...keep holding me ?”

He smiles softly, and says :

“Of course.”

He never, and never would, shy away from comforting you in any way. If you needed to have a good cry in his arms, so be it. And if you just needed him to be there, he would be there.

You cuddled for a bit, the soothing circles he rubbed on your back doing wonders to make you feel relax. He brought some essential oils, that he massaged on your belly before filling the hot water bottle and laying it there...It relieved the pain a little bit, as you started a marathon of your favorite movies.

He took great care of you all day long, answering your every need even as you didn’t dare to ask...as if he could read your mind. You almost suspected he really could. You never felt so in phase with anyone before like you did with him.

You had been together for less than a year. Although your anniversary was right around the corner. But him coming over as soon as he knew you weren’t feeling well. Him educating himself on what was it that hurt you...

If you weren’t sure yet that he was the one...You knew now.

It sucks to be a woman, sometimes

Bruce never knew periods could be that bad. Well, of course, he was a guy. And “periods” was never really a subject he talked about with anyone. He never really paid attention to it, like many men really.

Until he saw you while on it.

He knew you. He knew you were a tough lady. Once, you broke your leg while on a date with him. A silly accident really. Involving an ice rink, and an overzealous you chasing a hockey puck...Long story short, you ended up with a bad break. And you barely said a word about it.

Bruce had his bones broken many times, he knew the pain of it. It was one of the pain he hated the most, along with burns. One he dreaded the most. And you took it like a champ.

The break was bad enough you even needed surgery, yet you kept smiling at him (he might’ve feel bad that he let his over-competitive mind take over, “pushing” you to really want that puck...but of course, it was not his fault, after all, you too were very competitive, it was a pure accident). Saying you were fine, and that it’d be ok.

He always hated seeing you hurt, it hurt him too. Inside. And scared the Hell out of him, to even think about you being harmed. So that day, he was rather frantic. You staying calm helped him, which made him feel a little guilty that even as you were the hurt one, you reassured him.

But then you reminded him the roles were often reversed when he came back hurt from a rough vigilante night...You always had the right words to ease his mind.

Anyway. That one time, after badly breaking your leg, you stayed rather calm and collected. But when you had your periods ?

He never knew it could hurt so much. You couldn’t hide your pain, or pretend everything was alright.

It was clearly a really bad moment to go through.

He knew about the terrible migraines, being unable to sleep which made everything worst, feeling like your lower belly was being twisted from the inside, being sore all over for no reasons, not being able to move...

Seeing you, was enough for him to know that periods sucked.

“Being a woman is the worst, sometimes!”

You’d often say during those moments, and he’d just soothe you, wishing he was in your place...

He hated when you were hurting. It hurt him too. Inside.

And never. NEVER would he doubt that you were in real pain. Because unlike the doctors who kept telling you it was in your head, he knew you. He saw you get injured before. He knew you were tough. So for you to not be able to pretend everything was fine...

You were hurting. Badly. And it was awful. But he believed you. He believed you and that’s all that mattered to you.

Space

He also knew how to give you space when you needed it, though.

He would be here if you needed him, bring you any food you craved, giving you relaxing massages, rubbing essential oils on your belly, filling up your hot water bottle etc etc.

To be honest, his reaction to you being on your period is what made you sure he would be a great father one day...And you were right.

Not a perfect father.

But oh. Oh he cared. And wanted so much to do good...

And he knew.

He knew exactly when he had to be there, and when he had to give you space.

His hoodie

Bruce couldn’t always be with you when you had your periods, of course.

He often took time off to be. But it was unrealistic to think he could be 24/7 with you the entire week.

And sometimes, when he was away, you really suddenly craved his presence...So you came up with a trick.

You stole his clothes.

Particularly, hoodies he often wore when hanging out casually in the Manor.

First of, they were very comfortable. And second, and most importantly : they smelled like him.

They were warm, had his scent, and you could fall asleep feeling like he was almost there.

Bruce couldn’t count the number of hoodies he lost to you....Then again, after a while, you’d ruthlessly abandon one because it stopped smelling like him, and would steal another one.

Of course, he never minded. In fact, beyond the fact hoodies were nice and comfortable, he started to wear them a lot while in the house or during times he didn’t need to wear a suit (in every sense of the term), specifically because he knew you’d steal them when you felt lonely.

It was cute. And it made his heart beat faster just thinking about it.

Nobody.

Nobody ever needed him that much before. Nobody ever loved him so much that sometimes him not being around was distressing.

Of course, he felt the same. And the knowledge that you too, would sometimes feel lovesick when you were separated for too long...Filled his heart to the brim with the best feelings.

For so long, he thought someone being dependable of him, and him being dependable of someone was bad...Oh, how he was wrong.

It’s not because you open your heart to someone that you’ll get hurt, or that they’ll use it against you. You just have to find the right person...

So. Yes. He will always cancel plans just to be with you.

To bring you hot water bottles whenever you need. To cook your favorite food and snacks. To be there during all your mood swings, and endure even if you’re not the nicest to him (it’s not your fault). To watch your favorite movies. To let you sleep in and run your errands...

Periods sucked.

He didn’t need to be a woman to know that.

So he was there. Right there. For you. Taking care of you. And he would forever be there for that.

But when he wasn’t ?

Then he’d strategically leave one of his hoodie near the bed, so you could steal it, and comfort yourself with his smell...

Mood Swings

“Brooooooooooosssssh...”

You’re crying. You’re crying !

And it makes Bruce panic. You cry very rarely, so when you do it means something really bad must’ve happened or..or...

Bruce makes a quick calculation in his head and...Yup.

It’s that time of the month again.

Already ? Poor you..

This means that tomorrow, you’ll be a mess as everything will hurt too much, and today, the eve right before, you’re overly emotional.

Hence you clinging to him right now, sobbing while repeating “I love you so much Bruce, I love you soooo much”.

Hormones could really turn your head around. Right at the start of your period, before the pain, you had a rush of many emotions.

You could either get very irritated for no reason (like “WHY IS THIS FLOOR ON THE FLOOR ?!”) or cry at everything. Right now, you were crying because you realized you loved your Broosh to death and you just had to tell him and you didn’t want him to go that night and...ah...

“It’s alright, it’s alright my love. You’re ok. We’re ok.”

He lets you cry in his arms, of course. And already made the decision to not go out tonight, and stay with you. Kate could take over. He couldn’t leave knowing your emotions were doing quite a trick on you...

************

Your mood swings during your periods were particularly bad.

You guessed it went in pairs with all the pain. Of course, not just one thing had to be exacerbated. Oh no. EVERYTHING bad about periods had to be turned to the max for you. Otherwise, were was the fun, right ? Sarcasm.

You’d get irritated for no reasons. Then feel bad and cry for hours. To then feel ridiculously giddy once again for seemingly no reason...and then suddenly a burst of anxiety would attack you.

It was a circus in your mind, and in your body.

You couldn’t focus on anything. You couldn’t sleep properly. You felt awful all the time. Everything hurt. God...

And there he was. Bruce. Taking the brunt of your bad moods without saying a word. He knew it wasn’t your fault. That you didn’t mean it. That your hormones dictated your behavior against your own will.

He knew.

And he was there.

He was there.

“Every little moment is important, Son” - Thomas Wayne, to Bruce during the Flashpoint events.

“Bruce ? What are you doing here ? Thought you had important meetings ?”

“They weren’t that important.”

“Really ? Lucious said-”

“Lucious is overdramatic. Anyway, Tim is taking care of it.”

“...You’re letting our sixteen years old son taking care of the future of your company ?”

“To be honest, he’s probably more competent about it than me.”

“...That’s actually pretty accurate. But, why did you cancel things ?”

“Because it’s this unpleasant time of the month, right ?”

“Oh. You don’t have to-”

“I absolutely do.”

Disappearing for a few seconds, your husbands comes back, wearing one of his favorite silk pajamas (and by “his” favorite, he really means : he knows you love them and think they look good on him, but won’t ever admit it because they’re “damn pajamas, it’s silly”...but he likes to please you). He then climbs in bed with you, and settles comfortable against you.

“So, what’s the program today ?”

This wasn’t unusual, for him to do this when you were on your periods.

In fact, it was almost a ritual. Delegating his works to others, so he could take care of you.

Ever since that first time, all those years ago, things didn’t change much. He would ask you what you need, you’d tell him, and he would do it happily.

He knew it was a tough moment for you, physically, hormonally, mentally...Having your periods sucked. So he was there. Right there.

The words his father...Well, not really his father. The “Thomas Wayne” of another dimension. What his father would’ve become if he died that fateful night, instead of his parents. Regardless, to him, it was his father.

The father that never saw him grow up and became the man he was now...Yet who had important words for him.

“Take advantage of every little moments, you never know when it’ll end.”

Those words stuck with him. Because it was true. It only took a few seconds in an alleyway for his whole world to turn upside down...Why would it take any less for it to completely change now too ?

What if something happened to you ? And he didn’t spend enough time by your side ? Or to his kids ?

There was a time, being Batman was everything to Bruce. Because he was angry, lost, and devastated.

But over the years...Over the years this role stayed important. But he expended his vision. He included others in it.

So. Yes. He would treasure those small moments with you. And if it meant taking a day and night off to take care of you during a rough time, then he’d do it. If it meant missing work (both his works) because one of his children was sick, so be it.

He was Batman. But he was also a husband. A father.

And now...Now he knew his priorities.

He’d never stop being Batman. Never.

But he knew now. He knew there was more to life than this dark world he thought he’d get stuck in till the end of his life.

“I was about to watch a movie.”

“A movie it is. If you want me here, of course.”

“Do you even have to ask ?”

“To make sure you’re ok ? Always.”

“-sigh- Yes. Yes Bruce, I want you here. I want nothing else, in fact.”

“Ah, not even pop-corn ?”

“...Once we’ll have pop-corn, I’ll want nothing else.”

“Um, why is there tampons in your drawer ??”

One day, one of Bruce’s associate, Carlton, needed some paperworks to finish a deal, and came into his office. Bruce was on the phone, and gestured to him to just pick the papers up in one of his desk’s drawer.

Only the man misunderstood and opened the wrong drawer and...

“What the-Why is there tampons and pads in your drawers ?”

He asked, half-bewildered half-amused. Bruce finished his phone call, and answered :

“Why wouldn’t there be ?”

“Um, are you a woman ?”

“No, but my wife, who often come to this office, is.”

“Jeez Louise Bruce, never pegged you to be such a simp haha ! Oh man, they’re even “organic”, how far can you go for one woman right ? Haha joking of course, or maybe..haha !”

There was something in the tone Carlton took that brushed Bruce the wrong way. Something disrespectful and irritating. Not disrespectful to him, as if he cared to be called a “simp” (by a grown ass man by the way, which made it even more ridiculous). No. He didn’t care. But..This was his wife, they were talking about, in the end.

“A...”simp” ? Because I have items who can be useful to my wife in my desk drawer ? A place in which she often comes, as I already said ?”

His voice was cold, and Carlton definitely noticed. He always thought Bruce was an affable man, but sometimes...Sometimes he had something almost scary in his eyes.

Ah, but Carlton wasn’t the kind of man to really take this things seriously. And he added :

“Come on Bruce, don’t you think it’s a little ridiculous ?”

“No.”

“I just think it’s funny you have a drawer full of those things.”

“As I said, my wife comes by often, and might need it sometimes. I keep them here for her. It often came in handy you know.”

“Don’t say that, that’s so gross.”

“Why ?”

“Just thinking about it.”

“Just thinking about something my wife, but also yours by the way, have no control over ?”

“My wife doesn’t- We just don’t talk about it.”

“Well I guess yes. Or you wouldn’t react that way. Do you not take care of her when she has her periods ?”

At the word “periods”, the man opened his eyes wide, which made your husband roll his. It truly TRULY baffled him that this dude was being grossed by OBJECTS and most likely didn’t take care of his wife ? How could you love someone and not want to comfort them ?!

“Well, I don’t think she- I- She doesn’t - I ...It’s embarrassing, no ?”

“No.”

“Well, maybe it’s not with your wife but with mine it has been. She asked me a few times to buy pads for her.”

“Why would it be embarrassing ? I can assure you, nobody is going to think it’s for you.”

Carlton’s face was steadily going red. He said :

“It’s just something we don’t talk about.”

“Why not ?”

“It’s just...gross and...”

“Why is it gross though ? Why do you think that way ?”

“I mean, you know what periods are right ?”

“Of course I do. It’s something happening to a very large chunk of our population, and that is a natural phase in their life. Do you think your wife wants to have periods ? Most likely not. Mine definitely doesn’t. But she does. So I do keep pads and tampons here in case of an emergency, in case she has nothing else on her.”

“Nothing else ?”

“Do you think only pads and tampons exist for women’s periods ?”

“I-”

“It’s not hard to read up on it a bit. Especially when someone as close as your own wife is a “victim” of it."

Awkard silence. Clearly, the man was uncomfortable. Bruce sighed, and said :

“Just go take care of those papers.”

Evidently relieved, his associate almost ran out of the room.

Bruce kept thinking about how funny Carlton thought it was to have pads in his drawers. How he was about to mock him further before he got called out. “Simp”. If taking care of the woman he loved meant being a simp, then whatever.

Bruce couldn’t stop thinking about his associate’s words. And it gave him an idea...

The next day, every newspapers and local news channel talked about how the (Y/N) Wayne Foundation gave millions of dollars to every school and public places in the country to provide free tampons and pads to women. And how Bruce Wayne became a huge advocate of the “period positivity” movement his wife started.

“Periods shouldn’t be taboo.”, he said in his speech for the grand-opening of thousands and thousands of free pads distributors.

When the kids are around.

Dick

Dick was little when he first witnessed what your periods did to you, and he downright panicked when you fainted in front of him while you two were shopping for Bruce’s birthday present !

That morning when you woke up, you knew you were going to have your periods. You always felt it in your bones, a little bit before it truly started...But you also promised little Dickie you’d help him chose a gift for your husband.

You hated breaking your promises. Especially the one you made to your kid. He was just nine, and already experienced so many heartache...You couldn’t just break a promise you made to him, no matter what.

So you went anyway, knowing there was a high chance you’d feel ill during the day. You were hoping, in fact, your periods wouldn’t truly start up until the evening, and so you could spend the day with your son.

Alas...

“Mom ? Mom !? Someone help !!”

Your fainting during your period never lasted long. Just a sudden drop of energy, feeling dizzy, and falling...you woke up fast. Opening your eyes to see your baby boy with tears in his eyes. You knew what happened, and reassured him immediately.

You refused to call an ambulance, and instead called Alfred to ask if he could come pick you two up (you would NOT risk driving while in this state).

And there you were, sitting on a bench with your son while waiting for Alfred who would be there as soon as it takes to get from Wayne Manor to Gotham’s City Center.

“Are you sure you’re ok ?”

“Yes, don’t worry, this is normal.”

“Fainting is not normal !”

Dick looked so distressed...Should you tell him what was going on ? But he was such a young child.

Ah. But you were amongst the people who thought that kids weren’t as stupid as many people thought. And that they could handle the truth, especially this kind of things.

Understand what was happening to you would surely easy his mind. And make him understand, and act accordingly in the future. Wether with you, or a possible girlfriend ?

So you do just that.

You explain to him what is going on. You don’t give too many scientific details, but you explain as best you can so he understands.

“And every women has it ?”

“Every women have periods yes. But not everyone’s hurt.”

“Why do yours hurt ?”

“We don’t really know. I guess I wasn’t lucky ?”

“Scientists don’t know ?”

“Well, research on it are rather recents to be honest.”

“Why ? Women had it long ago too no ?”

“Yes, but it was a little taboo.”

“Why ?”

“Patriarchy.”

“Oh, damn patriarchy.”

You laugh. You knows he didn’t understand your answer, said as a joke to yourself. But it’s absolutely adorable how he immediately sides with you anyway.

“When I grow up, I’ll be a scientist. So I can help.”

“Ah, I thought you wanted to be an adventurer like Indiana Jones ? Or “whatever dad is doing I want to do it too” ?”

“Well. I can do more than once things at the same time, right ?”

“Sure you can. You can do anything.”

He smiles at you, and get closer for a little cuddle. And that’s how Alfred finds you two, your son hugging you, and you hugging him back, on a bench in the streets...

************

After the initial panic, Dick made it his mission to take care of you. He got really scared when he saw you faint, and would actually be a little...overbearing.

When he knew you were on your periods, he’d literally forbid you to walk around, and would make sure you had everything you needed.

His attentions, plus Bruce’s, made you feel like periods weren’t so bad in the end ?

Even as a grown up, Dick would often come by the manor with your favorite cake, for example, when he knew you didn’t feel well. And he would still get strict with you if he saw you roaming around and getting too busy while he knew you were in pain.

He’d do whatever you had to, for you. Wether it was cleaning things up, picking groceries...Running any errands for you, so you could rest.

You were definitely grateful. Even if sometimes, you wish you could just tell him to ease up a bit...Ah. But how could you really ?

The trauma Dick felt when loosing his parents made him overprotective and rather intransigeant. This was just how he was. And you always loved all your children unconditionally. You could take him being a bit too overprotective sometimes, because oh, oh he brought so much in your life...

Jason

You having really bad periods is the reason why when Jason, as a child or an adult, heard anyone say to a girl : “Jeez, why you so moody are you on your periods ?!”, would get mad.

It was cute to see his little ten years old self lecture grown adults about it : “Periods are really tough on a girl ! It’s not their fault is they don’t feel well or have mood swings, be more empathetic !”.

And it was still cute to see him as an adult glare at those who’d say this and give them a sermon about why it was wrong, and they better not say it again “or else” (and when a man like your son said the words “or else”, literally no one wanted to find out what he meant by it).

Once, someone told him, sarcastically :

“Wow, you drunk a lot of “respect women juice” huh ?”

“What is that even suppose to mean ? I’m being a decent human being. You should try it sometimes. If respecting women is so foreign to you, that hearing me say what I said is funny and ridiculous, reassess your life mate.”

It’s really not like anyone really wanted to argue with your son. Besides the fact he was very tall, and as a vigilante definitely worked out a lot...he had a “dangerous” air about him. It was his eyes maybe, daring anyone to argue and making them understand he wouldn’t back down without a fight ?

Ah. But if only people tried to look beyond that. If they only tried to know your son.

They’d realize he’s the sweetest little buddy around.

It surprised people that you still called him “little buddy” even as he was fast approaching his mid-twenties. But for you...

For you he was still that little, sweet Jay he was before he died. The one that you could still see sometimes, behind all his anger, trauma and hurt.

Ever since he was a child, Jason always felt everything more than anyone around him. He was an “hypersensitive” child. When he was angry, he was enraged. When he was happy, he was the happiest boy on Earth. When he was sad, it was hard to console him.

When he grew up, and all those bad things happened to him...This trait of his got even more enhanced. It was sometimes hard to reach him under all those negative emotions...Yet. Yet you managed to do it.

Bruce too...But that was another story.

For now, you just always felt extremely proud that your son was actually not as harsh as some people thought (the same mistakes they all kept making about your husband...you hated this kind of assumptions).

He always stood up for the underdogs. And was always respectful, and would voice his opinions.

Like how he hated when people told women : “ugh are you on your periods ?!” if they were being just a tiny bit difficult (sometimes, not even).

As a kid, Jason would worry a lot about you when you were on your periods. He hounded Bruce to know if you were ok, which your husband didn’t mind, of course. But he never quite dared to “bother you”.

Of course, he would never bother you. But Jason was a complicated kid who always worried too much. He didn’t want to get in your way, or annoy you.

So he had little quiet actions for you.

Like getting your slippers warm when you’d wake up, by placing them near the radiators all night and putting them right beside your bed before you’d wake up. Or bringing you hot beverages. Baking your favorite treats, and leaving them in strategic places so you’d see it. Or scolding his dad when he thought he wasn’t taking care of you enough haha.

Jason was a good kid. Nobody would ever change your mind on that. He was a good kid, to whom bad things happened. Yet he never strayed from his principles...No matter how people could see his recent actions.

Jason was a good kid.

He was your kid.

As a child, he hated this week during which you had your periods. He dreaded them as much as you did. Just like Bruce, he had a hard time standing you being hurt...

As an adult. It was the same. And he still had little silent actions to make you feel better. To make your day easier.

That was Jason for you.

Such, such a good kid...

Tim

Tim, very much like his father, was a boy who needed to always have a plan, and to know everything before finding solutions.

When you were on your periods, he’d always know. Because he kept a calendar about it.

Some people might find it weird, but...Why ? He kept count of the days to know when you’d have your periods, so he could act accordingly. So he wouldn’t be caught off guard by one of your mood swings. And so he could take care of you ??

It was an act of care, to keep track of your periods. Sometimes, he even knew before you when you were going to have it.

People who thought it was weird to kept such a calendar, were the same people who thought periods were gross and a taboo subject.

Sure, it was definitely not very glamorous. But it was part of half of the World’s population life ?? Why keep it taboo and refusing to talk about it ?

Tim immediately, just like his dad, did a lot of research on women’s menstruations...Which got you to be called in his principal’s office once.

The man was worried, and unhappy that your son was reading a magazine “for woman” about “menstruations”, he thought the topic was vulgar and inappropriate.

Your son was 13. Which was also the age many of his girl friends were experiencing their first periods. And that principal was out there, scolding him because he talked about it, making an entire generation of little girls thinking they were wrong for having periods ?

Needless to say, you got rather mad. And the principle never called you ever again (if he had to call, he was always making sure to get your husband on the line, and not you).

And so Tim kept learning everything possible about it, in the hope also to find the perfect remedies to ease your pain. He tried a lot, to help you out. Gave tricks to Bruce, too.

And so, kept a calendar.

This allowed him to know if something was wrong, as well.

He was the first one to guess you were pregnant with Thomas, because of his calendar. And one time, you had hormonal problems and he’s the one that told you you should check an endocrinologist because you’d been too irregular with your periods time !

Yes. Just like his dad, Tim needed to know a situation fully before acting. And seeing him trying to know as much as he could in order to help you was...why, it was the most adorable thing in the world.

Cass

Cass’ periods were not painful, and you were so glad for her.

To her, it was a mild annoyance, there was no pain, it was just irritating. And yes, she had mood swings and could easily get mad, but it was nothing major.

She never even knew other women could have it so bad...The education about periods was really lacking ! They never talked about it anywhere !

Cass was a woman of few words...but she knew how to pass her emotions through her body language. Oh, how she knew.

“Momma.”

Just like your other kids, she’d come check on you when Bruce couldn’t take care of you. You wanted space sometimes, which they all understood. But honestly, during your periods, when you were so sensitive about everything ? You also wanted them around almost all the time.

A paradox. Very fitting of those damn periods time.

Cass would just sit with you, and make sure you were comfortable. She wouldn’t say a word. Lay her head on your shoulder, and hold your hand. Watch movies with you. Hold you close.

She was delicate with you, as if afraid to break you.

Just like your husband, her presence had a soothing effect ? As if nothing bad could ever happen to you as long as she was there (and that probably was right, Cassandra would never let anyone touch her “momma”).

She didn’t need to talk. She didn’t need to do anything more than stay with you when you didn’t want to be alone.

She never experienced the pain you had, but if even to her, who had painless periods, it was annoying and a damn plague ? Then to you...

She didn’t need to do much.

Just her being there already meant a lot.

Her holding onto you, even as she stayed afraid of anyone’s touch for so long.

“Momma.”

Cassandra was your only daughter. And oh you were glad her periods weren’t as bad as yours. That’s all that really mattered to you.

“Momma.”

You often fell asleep with the warmth of your kiddo right there. Next to you. Knowing she wasn’t going to leave unless you wanted to. Knowing she wish she could take your pain on.

Ah. But no. No even if it was possible you’d never allow that. You were the mom. YOU were supposed to take their pains on.

And knowing that Cass never suffered on her periods as bad as you did, was enough. After all, your baby suffered enough in the past...She could get a little lucky, right ?

“Momma.”

That word was music to your hear. Cass’ first word to you.

She didn’t need to talk anyway. Being here was enough...

It was more than enough.

Damian

Everyone who saw Damian around you would notice that he wasn’t quite the same boy than "normally”.

He was calmer, nicer, and sweeter.

You’d argue that it was his real self. That this was his “normal”. That he was just never allowed to show his true heart before, and wasn’t used to trust others and open up. And you were definitely more than happy that he finally managed to do that after arriving into your home.

That none of you ever gave up on him.

You especially had a calming effect on him. After all, he never had a “conventional” mom, who could take care of him when he was sick, kiss him good night and make sure he always had everything he needed.

Some would say you coddled him too much...And you didn’t care. Because that boy lived 10 years being the opposite of coddled. So what, if you’d cut the crust off of his sandwiches, or read him bed time stories every single night ?

Damian loved it. As he often said, being a momma’s boy was “hardly something he was ashamed of”. He never felt loved and safe before, you bet he’d take every chance he got to be cared for.

He never got to act like an actual kid. You allowed him to do just that, AND you made him feel like he belonged. Finally. Like he had an actual family.

So...The day he heard about your absolutely awful periods, what did he do ?

Every single day of your life with him, you had at least one nice intention to him. Wether it was baking his favorite cookies, or telling him how proud you were of him, you always had nothing but kindness for him, often going out of your way for your son.

It was normal for you. Of course. And you did it with all your children...but you had to admit maybe Damian had just a little more of it, because he really never had anything like that to him.

And to him, it only felt normal then, when you felt at your worst, that he’d be there for you exactly like you were there for him.

During any mood swings, he’d have comforting words for you. He had little attentions for you that just made life easier.

Again, it would greatly surprise anyone but his family, but when you had your periods, he did a lot of overly sappy little things.

Like for example : every month, he wrote seven things he found extraordinary about you and would put them in a jar. Seven. The number of day in a week. And usually the number of day, give or take, your periods would last.

The jar would be sitting right on your bedside table on the first day, with the indications you had to read one paper every morning, or every time you felt down (it was supposed to be one paper a day). Sometimes, you’d go through his seven messages in less than a day...and magically, the next day, the jar would be filled again.

Damian made sure of it.

This was just a small example. But it showed exactly what kind of boy your son really was.

If he was heartless, a killer, someone destined to destroy the World...would he really put that much effort into making you feel love ? Into making you feel better any way he could ?

You didn’t think so. The only way your son could ever “turn bad”, was if you (and Bruce) stopped caring for him. Left him alone (A/N : this is a CLEAR jab at current comics canon, if you know what I mean :I ). Only if he felt abandoned, unloved, and rejected.

You knew your boy had, just like you, “rejection dysphoria”. It was hard for him to accept any kind of rejection, and it made him act out and hurt. But that was another story...

Right now, all that mattered to you, is that you knew your son was always going to be there for you, just like you’d always be there for him.

That he finally learned how to love, and care. That he would never unlearn it, as long as you lived.

Your periods sucked.

So bad.

But Damian was a ray of light in the darkness of those seven dreaded days...

Duke

Duke’s mom also had endometriosis.

Over the years, he perfected a “special remedy” he always made her when she had her periods.

He hesitated to make it for you. After all, it was something that made him bond greatly with his own mom...was making it for you, now, acceptable ? Did it mean he forgot about his mother ?

No. No of course not.

Duke scolded himself for even thinking that. You too, became his mom. He learned over the years that it was ok, to have two mom. That when they’ll find a cure for his parents, it wouldn’t take away the years you filled in for the mother role, and took care of Duke as if he was your own.

So here we go.

Some ginger. Some lemon. A dash of his little secret ingredients. Your favorite blend of tea. And it was done.

He brought it to you, saying it always soothed his mom...

And just that.

Just those words. It meant so much.

“It always used to soothe my mom. Used to do it all the time, ever since I was five !”

He said with a smile.

It was something he used to do for his mom, and now he did it for you. Just this. Just that fact, it was enough to make you feel better.

It didn’t take away the pain, but mentally ? It felt amazing.

You drunk his concoction and...Oh god.

Oh god it was disgusting. And...Ah. Yes. His mom probably pretended she liked it. “Ever since I was five !”. Ha. So cute. But also, it really was gross.

At the same time, you felt a pleasant warmth spread through your body as the terrible aftertaste slowly faded. Duke smiled to you, and with a little mischief in his voice said :

“It’s really gross, isn’t it ? But it does the trick haha”

There was a few seconds of silence. During which you blinked at him, not quite registering what he just said. Until...

You burst out laughing. The little mischievous smile, and the way he said “it’s really gross, isn’t it ?” was just too funny.

Your communicative laugh spread to Duke, and as he laughs it makes you laugh even louder too and...You forget.

For a moment you forget about your periods. The pain. The anguish. The emotional labor. This damn week of hell.

You forget.

And you just laugh.

You laugh alongside your son.

Thomas (if you wonder who the H is Thomas, you can check my “Batmom” masterlists, he appears from the story “the great mall adventure” ^^)

Thomas must’ve been about four, when he first saw you having your periods.

Your littlest baby was also one of the most sensitive out of them all (right along with Jason, the two of them cried their eyes out when they watched “Inside Out” and Bing Bong disappeared). Bruce always said he took that after you. And honestly, you couldn’t disagree. It’s true you could be very sensitive.

So one morning, when he woke up and went to breakfast and heard you weren’t feeling right, he immediately went to you and...

Bruce found him an hour later, crying in his room.

“Oh wow hey hey, what is it buddy ?”

He asked, trying to hide the panic in his voice. Thomas might’ve been sensitive, but he rarely cried. He was just a very empathetic boy. But also a cheerful one, and he had a knack to see the good even in the worst situations.

So seeing him sob like that, made Bruce’s heart drop.

“Is mommy going to die ?!”

It took Bruce a few seconds to get a hold of his racing heart. His son crying. And asking if you were going to die. It shortcircuited his brain for a few seconds. Until he realized what Thomas was talking about...

“Oh, oh no champ, no, mommy isn’t going to die.”

Your kids were used to see you strong and fierce. Of course the first time your little one would see you on your period, he’d think something big was wrong.

He had just recently learned what death really mean (you can read about this here : The day he understand what Death means), and since then was so scared it’d happen to his parents. Or his siblings. Or anyone he knew, really...

Picking up his son and slowly and softly tapping his back in soothing circles, he walked around the room and rocked him until the boy calmed down a bit, before trying to explain as best he could why mommy felt bad, without going in in too many details.

Once Thomas understood this was just like when he got a fever that time, that it would pass, he felt much better. But also worst. Because his mommy wasn’t feeling well ! And it happened often !

Bruce reassured him that there were ways they could help you...And soooo :

Thomas brought you hot water bottles, with the help of his dad (the bottles were almost as big as him), and ended up falling asleep on one as it laid on your belly (he heard that humans’ body heat was very strong and wanted to “help the hot water bottle”).

The water in the bottle became cold, and you removed it..Your son didn’t woke up, so you laid him back down on your belly. And he was warm and so tiny, and you loved him so much...It made you feel like the luckiest woman in the world, to be surrounded by people like this little one.

And all your kids. Alfred. Your friends. Broosh...You fell asleep with sweet dreams made of warmth and cuddles.

Not long after, Bruce came by to check on you, finding both you and Tommy deeply asleep and...An overwhelming feeling of happiness took him over.

You weren’t the only one feeling lucky. Except for Bruce...For Bruce it was even stronger, because after his parents died, he never thought he would be happy ever again.

This was why he’d always be there for you. You gave him another family...

His schedule was freed, and he had a busy day. A nap sounded perfect. Especially while nestled against you, with his little one right there.

Dick came by in the afternoon, and found all of you like this. Bruce holding both you and his son, Thomas taking way more space than such a small body would make you thing he’d take.

Dick snapped a picture, and send it to the group chat he had with his siblings and some other close friends and such (like Clark, Wally, Conner, Diana etc etc they used the group chat to gossip about Bruce, mainly). With the caption : “Big bad bat tamed by a four year old”.

Cass send multiple hearteyes emojis. Jason said it was adorable and send a crying emoji, and didn’t care one bit what anyone would think of him saying such things. Damian yelled at Dick that he should’ve put the comforter back up on his baby brother and mom because it wasn’t properly put on !! Duke send a : “I’m downloading that picture for the next time he gets mad at us and we need to soften him up”. Tim replied with a gif of Maes Hughes from Full Metal Alchemist saying : “dis dad”. Clark said “they look so peaceful, you wouldn’t believe he threatened me just yesterday to punch me because I made a joke” to which Diana answered : “that joke was so bad I wanted to punch you to. Cute pic btw, give kisses to Tommy for me, you should come see me more, I just stocked my freezer with nothing but ice creams”..Everyone send a little comment about it.

Because even superheroes, could have normal conversations about those they love.

Suffering alone is a thing of the past

It’s funny. You couldn’t even remember, now, what it felt like “before”.

Before.

Before you met Bruce.

Before that first time he showed up to your apartment to take care of you.

How were your periods before that ? The worst.

Definitely.

Actual Hell.

Not that they were feeling better now. Oh no. There were time your overdramatic self exclaimed : “uuuugh just kill me alreadyyyy” when the pain was too grand...But you weren’t alone anymore.

That’s what made it a bearable moment of the month.

It still felt as bad as it used to when you were younger.

But it wasn’t just you agonizing in your bedroom all alone anymore.

It wasn’t you wishing you’d have someone to take care of you, and to try and ease the pain. Not anymore.

It wasn’t you crying with nobody to dry your tears anymore...

No. You had an entire army of people right there just for you.

Alfred, your children, and most of all...Bruce.

Your Broosh.

Ah. If only some people could see this side of him you and your family knew. The caring and loving one. In a way though, it was rather comforting and made you feel special, that only you and your kiddos knew the real Bruce ?

Of course nowadays, some of his closest friends like Clark and Diana weren’t fooled anymore either. But they’d never see him the way you did, when you were in unbearable pain, and he was right there, drawing soothing circle on your back, keeping you warm and safe...

This was only privy to you.

Your Broosh.

Yes.

Your periods were still as painful as they used to. But now...

Now you weren’t alone anymore.

The end.

________________________________________________

Hey guys ! I hope you liked this :). As usual, feedbacks and reblogs are always welcomed ! (Especially lately, the reblog ratio seems at its worst haha). And again, I really hope you liked this. I was finally able to sit down and write after weeks of being stuck in a depressed mood, so I’m quite excited about sharing this. But as usual, always a bit nervous that you’ll be disappointed blahblahblah low self-esteem and all that haha... :). I just hope this is to your liking. Thank you.

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lily-drake · 3 years

Text

Death

Death was nothing new in Marinette’s life. In fact it played a large role. Her friends and city had died a hundred times over. Her brother. Her funny, smart, loving, dramatic brother had died at the hands of a mad man. She didn’t think it was wrong for her to use the horse miraculous to visit her brother's grave. It was officially five years after all. He would be 20, he would have loved to plan out her 16th birthday this year. She sat down and read Pride and Prejudice out loud, only a few tears falling as she glanced at the grave every so often. She had also brought a bouquet of white lilies, statices, red carnations, and white daisies. Soft grass laid over the dirt, the sun gleamed above, and sometimes when she would lean against the grave it was almost like she could feel him.

Dark storm clouds began to cloud the sky, and she knew she would have to leave soon, though she didn’t want to. Dad would be upset if he caught her, though considering how many weeds she had to remove from the grave and how abandoned it looked, she doubted anyone had visited any time soon. Suddenly the rain began to pour down and it felt like the earth shook. She felt a great imbalance, but where, and how? She touched both of her ears and she could feel her miraculous still there, Tikki even poked her head out from her bag with a look of fear. A shiver ran down Marinette’s spine as rain came pouring down soaking everything in sight. She looked around, and she kept spinning searching for something, anything that could have caused or been affected by the imbalance. She waited there for many minutes just waiting, when she felt the dirt beneath her feet begin to shift a little. She quickly moved away and watched as the dirt slowly moved and shifted. She felt sick, because the dirt moving was directly where Jason was lying in eternal rest. This couldn’t be right, this must be some mistake! Her brother had died, she had seen the body, it haunted her nightmares for so many nights. He’s been gone for five years! This can’t be possible without some type of wish.

The grass began to move and shift away, and a fleshy mud covered hand raised from the ground causing a scream to rip from her lungs. Her body sprung into action before her mind caught up to her beginning to help dig up her brother's grave, and when she saw the jet black hair covered in dirt and mud she knew that it was him. She heaved him out from the hole and stared in shocked horror as he just sat there staring at her. His eyes were the same blue she remembered, but they were so clouded. Fear, confusion, and nothing shown in his eyes, like he wasn’t even truly there. This must be a dream, it has to be, no, a nightmare. Her brother shouldn’t be back, he died, she saw his limp body in dad’s hands, even if Alfred and bluebird tried to stop her. But the imbalance was real, she could tell, and he was affected by it.

Slowly she raised her hand and hesitantly placed a hand on his cheek. He leaned into her hand, though his eyes were still clouded and void. He may be alive, but he wasn’t fully…alive. She tackled her older brother into a hug and began sobbing onto him, but just sat there, head leaning against hers. Pressing her ear against his chest she could hear his gentle heartbeat, and just for a moment everything seemed like it would be ok. Then she felt a sharp prick in her neck and the world faded to black.

________

Marinette awoke to darkness. She tried to sit up and felt her hands held behind her back being held together by something cold and thick. Memories flooded back into her mind and she snapped into awareness and looked around. It was dark, though there was a small light coming from a window far above where she could not ever reach. The walls seemed to be made of thick stones and there was a heavy iron door a few feet in front of her. Jason wasn’t there though, he wasn’t in the room, she didn’t understand. Suddenly the door opened and she looked up and saw her mother’s green eyes. Her panic grew again, how did she get here, was she captured too? She had visited her often in Paris. She was very vague about her job, and she knew it was probably sketchy, but could it be bad enough to be captured?

“Marinette, My Darling. I apologize for your treatment, I did not realize that you were part of this.”

Talia rushed towards her daughter and unlocked the chains. She was pulled into a tight hug that Marinette quickly returned. After a few moments she pulled away but held her shoulders gently.

“I must show you something, come.”

Talia quickly stood and helped her daughter to her feet and walked swiftly through the calls of Nanda Parabat.

“What is mom?”

Talia smiled at that, she had always loved when her daughter called her that.

“It’s a surprise, My Flower.”

A few more twists though hallways and they stopped in front of a thick wooden door.

“I want you to meet someone.”

The door was pushed open and there sat a small baby in a crip with dark black hair, tanned skin, and dark green eyes. Marinette gasped and covered her mouth,

“Meet your brother, Damian.”

Marinette slowly walked over and stared at Damian through the top of the crib. He silently watched and studied her without making a sound.

“He’s about 3 months old.”

Talia said, smiling happily as she watched her daughter run her fingers through Damian’s small tresses of hair. With a snap of her finger one of her shadows stepped next to her.

“Bring Jason.”

And with that order they were gone returning a few minutes later with a boy who was alive physically, but was mentally gone. She could fix that though, it would be the last resort if all else failed, but she could fix it. Marinette looked up when she heard Jason’s footsteps and her bright smile fell slightly into a small sad one.

“Jay-Jay.”

She whispered softly as she took slow steps towards the boy. She quickly ran and hugged him again. He no longer smelled like mud and he wasn’t wearing his suit, and he was….he was alive again! Tears fell down her cheeks, because she missed him so much.

________

Marinette stayed with her mom in what she learned was Nanda Parabat. She trained with Jason, but he was catatonic, just going through the motions blankly. It worried her, especially as she watched her mother grow more anxious. She cared for her little brother, and wondered if her dad knew, or if he would even care. She often looked at Paris news for when she needed to go for Akuma attacks, but if her host parents even realized she was gone. They hadn’t, nor had any of her “friends” apparently as they hadn’t sent her a single thing from the weeks she’s been gone.

Marinette knew that Nada Parabat wasn’t a good place, knew that the people were bad, knew that her grandfather was the head of it. He didn’t seem to care who she was, he just thought she was some nurse for Damian, and she was thankful for that. She knew that the Lazarus Pits were here, what they did, how they were made, how her grandfather used them for selfish purposes. She didn’t do anything though, she was mad at her father for sending her away, mad that he adopted a bee kid only a year after he sent her away, mad that he never talked to her, mad that Dick never fought for her or looked for her, mad that Jason was forced to wake up and climb his way out of his grave only to be practically brain dead, mad that her classmates believed lies over her, mad that her host parents believed them and treated her like dirt or an invisible object meant to seen and not heard, mad that Chat Noir would leave her during battles because she didn’t return his affections, and mad that no one cared that she was gone! So she trained as hard as she could, made sure that she perfected everything her mother threw at her. Took care of her family and made sure they knew how thankful she was for them and loved them. Then when she finally got a text from someone it was insults for being a horrible person and hurting Lila when she hadn’t been there for weeks!

She threw her phone at the wall and the crack echoed around the room. Her breathing was harsh and ragged and then the tears she had been holding back finally fell. Sobs wracked her body as she bit her lip to keep silent. She tried to take in deep shuddering breaths, but it was no use and the sobs came out. Her knees felt weak and she crumpled to the ground. The door burst open and she saw her mom there knife in hand looking around the room with swift deadly eyes. When she didn’t see any visible threats she kneeled in front of her daughter and looked directly into her eyes. Eyes a storming blue that flooded with tears and made her heart ache and her want to murder whoever made her precious daughter look so broken.

“My Flower, what’s wrong?”

“N-nobody cares ab-about me! No one cares that I’m g-gone. Everyb-body hates me, and I’m so tired of it! I’ll n-never be enough for an-anybody and I’m t-trying so h-hard to do wh-what everyone needs or exp-ects me to be!”

Marinette stuttered out between sobs. Talia glared at that and felt anger at Bruce. She thought that he at least checked in with her every once in a while. She had guessed wrong then. She pulled her daughter into a hug and let her cry against her shoulder.

“Shh, shh. It’s okay. You are perfect the way you are Marinette. You don’t have to prove anything to me. You’re such a good sister, you train so hard, and you have so many amazing skills and talents. You are enough, don’t let anyone say anything different.”

Marinette gripped onto her mom and they both just sat there in silence as Marinette finally just cried. After who knows how long Marinette gently pushed away and looked her mom directly in the eyes with complete seriousness said,

“I want you to help me fake my death. If everyone wants to pretend I’m gone or wants me to disappear, then fine. I will. I don’t want to be seen anymore.”

Talia stared at her daughter in shock for a moment then gave her a small smile.

“It will be done my dear, you will be free.”

“Thank you mom.”

Taglist:

@queenz-z @aespades @fandomsaremylifeline @stainedglassm @toodaloo-kangaroo @prettylittlebutterflie @trippingovermyfeet @liquid-luck-00 @unoriginalmess @buginetye @miraculouslydumb @laurcad123

#maribat #BDBWM2021 #marinette dupain cheng #marinette al ghul wayne #talia sugar #class salt #tom and sabine salt #day 13 #death #sibling au #sibling jasonette #sibling daminette #damian is a baby #angst #fluff

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dameronology · 3 years

Text

never doubt me {cassian andor}

summary: after falling into the hands of the empire, a situation of life and death forces you and cassian to finally talk about your feelings {for @megmeg-chan and i am sO sorry it’s taken me so long to do this}

summary: language, mentions of injury, talks ab death/loss in a canon kinda way

enjoy!! i haven’t written for cassian in so long and i forgot how much i loved him, so expect more of him in the future😌

- jazz

Cassian Andor was a filthy liar.

No, deep breath. He wasn't that bad.

The situation was just really fucking irritating and, in all likelihood, making your anger towards him a little more irrational. It wasn't really even his fault either. He'd told you incessantly that the mission was going to go well, and that you both going to be fine. Like, totally fiiiine, and that you would both get into the base without trouble and reunite in the middle, near the Imperial comms system. It was just that neither of you had planned for or expected stormtroopers to be present -- he'd gotten away in one piece, but you hadn't been so lucky.

That brings us to now: a cell, with two stormtroopers parked outside and quite literally no sign of Cassian anywhere. You knew he'd be looking for you; in fact, you didn't doubt it once. There was a sort of unspoken pact between you that you would always rescue one another; always have each other's backs and never leave the other behind. It was born from the fact that friendships were hard to forge in your line of work, and what you and Cassian had was rare. Not even just in the Rebellion, but rather life in general. On the surface, you teased and ripped into one another to no end. The chemistry was almost suffocating for the people around you, because they could never get a word in edge ways. Then, if you dug a little deeper, there was something more. Something sweeter, something more supportive. You knew him better than he knew himself and in return, he could read you like his favourite novel (though, admittedly, it did sometimes feel like you were missing a few pages. Human complexity and all that).

‘Do you feel like speaking now?’ The modulated voice of one of the stormtroopers came from the other side of your cell door.

‘I’ll die before telling you jackshit.’ You muttered. Hopefully that was more of a statement and less of a prophecy.

The trooper snorted. ‘Okay, sweetheart-’

‘- call me that again and I will shove that blaster sideways up your ass.’ You spat.

‘The only thing you’re doing is rotting here.’

With that, he turned his back to you again.

You slumped further down the wall, ignoring the feeling of the cold concrete etching through the thin fabric of your shirt. It was cold in here. Really, really fucking cold, and Cassian had said you wouldn’t need a jacket. Then again, he’d said a lot of things. And again, none of it was his fault, but you cursed yourself for so blindly listening to him. It was nice that you took everything the other said as gospel, even if it came back to bite you in the ass every so often.

‘A word of advice-’

‘- I don’t want any advice.’ You turned away from the trooper, pulling you knees to your chest.

‘The sooner you talk, the less painful it’ll be.’ He ignored your refusal.

You didn’t need to ask what he meant by it. You’d been part of the Rebellion long enough to have heard stories -- stories of torture, stories of war and the the kind of horrors that people often took to the grave. You had a fair few of your own, and so did Cassian. That was probably why he’d become so important to you. He was one of the only people in the galaxy who truly understood the downfalls of being a Rebel spy. Your cause was more important to you than anything (well, almost anything) and you wouldn’t have changed it for the world, but there were times like this where you wondered if it was all worth it. Would there ever come a day where the Empire truly fell, once and for all? And would you even be around to see it? Would Cassian?

Speaking of the devil, where the fuck was he? He never usually took this long. A few hours at most, but you’d long surpassed that. You could only very barely see the sky through the tiny window, but the sky had faded from powder blue to a dark navy, signalling it had been well over half a day. That was bad for multiple reasons -- the first being that the longer you were here, the more likely Cassian was to assume the worst and stop searching. Secondly, and perhaps most hauntingly, was that each passing second brought you closer to the Imps dragging you out the cell and taking you for questioning. And questioning, in their books, didn’t involve much talking. Go figure.

The injuries you sustained in your capture were bad enough; a bust lip, bruised eye and twisted ankle never made for much comfort. Even less so when you couldn’t get medical attention. The fact you knew it would be the least of your problems in a few hours made it all that much worst.

You’d never doubted Cassian Andor before. Not once. Couldn’t even fathom it, truth be told. He always came through for you; always saved your ass, whether it be from yourself or from Imps. He was your person. That’s the only way you could have put it.

But, above all, he was a human being. Not a super hero, or a miracle worker. He could only do so much and you knew he would. He would follow every lead and every clue to try and get to you, but that’s all he could do. If he couldn’t find you, that wasn’t him on him. You doubted that he would think the same, and when you heard the lock to your cell open, you could only hope and pray that he knew that. That you weren’t going to blame him for what was about to happen, or hold it against him.

‘It’s time.’ The stormtrooper announced. ‘Hope you can handle a bit of pain.’

You took a deep breath. ‘I can handle anything.’

‘I wouldn’t count on it.’ He guffawed. ‘Hands out.’

‘C’mon, man.’ You murmured. ‘My legs gone, my lips bust and my head feels someone’s dropped an iron anvil on it. You don’t need to cuff - ouch!’

You let out a squeak as he grabbed your wrists, tugging them forward and shoving a pair of metal cuffs on them. Was this really it? The end? Was your name gonna be the next one on the list of people lost in the Rebellion? That was if anybody even noticed.

Cassian would. Of course, Cassian would. It hurt your heart to think that you wouldn’t see him again, or get to say a proper goodbye. The last time you’d seen him, you’d been dragged away from him kicking and screaming. He’d been so close, and if he’d been just a little nearer when they’d got you, he might have been able to save you, to stop you from falling into the hands of the Empire. You always figured that if you were gonna die in the field, he’d be by your side. The dumbassery you so often found yourselves in usually happened together.

The walls of the Imperial base were dark - as if you’d expected anything else. It was hardly like the place was going to look like a bright, airy Ikea showroom. The only light came from the thousands of tiny red and blue buttons flickering on the wall, illuminating the hallways in what would have been a pretty glow if the circumstances weren’t so fucking miserable. Talk about a high way to hell.

You took another left, the trooper’s grip on you tightening as you neared some double towards the end. Yep, here it was. This is where you met your maker. And from what you’d heard, the six-foot-something guy in a black mask did not take prisoners. Not that he was the one you were thinking of. No, that was Cassian. Completely and entirely Cassian; just his face and his presence and his everything at the back of your mind, the last thing you could think of before you were about to die for your cause-

-you let out an oof! as the stormtrooper suddenly pulled you to the ground, practically using you as a human shield against the blaster fire and smoke grenade that had just come from behind you. You tried to use your elbows to push him off, but with the cuffs and your already existing injuries, he easily overpowered you. Also, you were too busy coughing from the smoke to even think about making a getaway.

Tumbling forward, you fell onto your hands and knees. The trooper’s gun clattered to the ground, and you used your good leg to kick it further out the way, eyes not moving from the cloud of smoke that come out of the grenade. The red and blue lights were beating down on it, casting a purple glow over the shadow of whoever had thrown it, acting as a guide as they finally emerged. With a blaster in one hand and the other curled into a fist, your best friend had never quite looked so handsome, especially under the violet illuminations.

‘Cassian!’ Despite everything, you couldn’t help but grin.

‘Duck.’ He demanded.

You did as he said, flopping back to the floor. Squeezing your eyes shut and covering your head, you stayed there for a moment. There was another blast, and then the trooper’s body fell beside yours with a dull thud!

Then, in what must have been two of most contrasting feelings ever, a warm pair of hands found yours. Cassian’s, undoubtedly. You would have known them anywhere. He pulled you up from the cold ground, warm palms finding your face as they ghosted over your cheeks.

‘It’s okay.’ His voice was soft. ‘You can open your eyes.’

You took a deep breath. ‘I know. Thank you.’

‘How badly are you hurt?’ He asked. ‘Because we need to move fast.’

‘My foot’s pretty wrangled.’ You said.

Without another word, Cassian threw an arm over your shoulders, tucking it under your arms to support you.

‘Lean against me.’ He instructed. ‘The exit isn’t too far-’

‘- what about the other troopers?’ You asked.

‘I dealt with them on my way in.’

And dealt with them, he certainly had. The men were practically laying in unconscious piles (he only ever intended to maim, but never kill), working as some kind of fucked up map out of a twisted and horrible maze. The pain in your leg only grew worst as you moved, your good leg beginning to ache from carrying all the weight. With all your attention focused ahead of you for potential enemies, you didn’t even notice how close you were to stumbling over -- not until you fell back onto the cold lino floors.

‘Hey.’ Cassian dropped beside you. ‘Look at me, okay, just...look at me.’

You glanced up, tired eyes meeting his warm, brown ones. ‘It really hurts, Cass.’

‘We’re really close now.’ He said. ‘Two more minutes. Can you do that? For me?’

‘Yeah.’ You took a deep breath and nodded. ‘I can.’

(Because really, for him, you’d do anything.)

Cassian helped you back up, pressing one of his blasters into your hand. His arm returned to hold you by the waist, gripping you a little tighter this time. Your leg was practically screaming in pain, a dull ache shooting from your ankle up to your knee. You had to remind yourself that in a few minutes, it would all be over - and not in the way you thought it was going to be over an hour ago. Over, as in this whole ordeal would simply be something to report back to your bosses at base, and not your final moments. The fact you ever let yourself accept that fate and think that Cassian wouldn’t come for you was something else entirely in itself.

You almost cried with relief when you saw his battered old ship docked outside the base. You normally cried for other reasons when you saw it - usually ones to do with the rusty old engines and creaking sound it insisted on making whenever it flew - but right then, you had never been happier to see it. Even if the insides smelt weirdly of petrol and oil, and the seats in the cockpit were made of uncomfortable cracked leather, you practically threw yourself on board.

Neither you nor Cassian said anything for a while. His attention was completely on getting away from the base and avoiding TIE fighters - something he did without ever moving his hand from your thigh - and yours was on steadying your breathing and heartbeat. It had been a rough twelve hours to say the least.

Once the ship had lurched into hyperspace, he turned in his chair to face you. He held your gaze for a moment, before opening his arms out and letting you flop from your own seat and into his chest. They tightly wrapped around you, one hand softly your head to his body and the other gently rubbing up and down your back. You had to squeeze your eyes shut to stop your tears from spilling.

‘I’m sorry.’ He murmured.

‘For what?’ You peered up at him with a frown.

‘Not finding you sooner.’ He replied. ‘Or for even letting you get caught in the first place-’

‘- Cassian, stop.’ You pulled back and tangled his hands in yours. ‘Once I get some bactaspray, I’ll be totally fine.’

‘But you almost weren’t.’ He shot back. ‘If I was just a few minutes later and you could have been a thousand times worst, or even...gone completely.’

‘That’s beside the point.’ You softly sighed. ‘It’s doesn’t matter would have beens or could have beens. I am here and I will be okay.’

‘You’re right.’ He nodded. ‘I’m sorry. I just...I want to protect you, you know? And I failed.’

‘You don’t need to protect me, Cass.’ You shook your head with a soft smile. ‘Actually, no, today I did but you pulled through.’

‘I don’t need to, but I want to.’ Cassian murmured.

He’d done a pretty good job at sitting on his feelings for the last few years. Pushed them down when he felt the urge to tell you, and ignored them entirely when they got really intense. But that had been when the threat of completely losing you was just that: a threat. A distant possibility, and one that you were both too busy living your lives to fully consider. Now, however, you’d come close. Too close. Cassian had come face-to-face with a reality where you were gone, and one where he’d never actually told you how he felt.

‘You know I love you, right?’ He quietly said.

‘Yeah, I know.’ You nodded.

‘No, I mean I love you.’

You peered up at him, realising what he was getting at. You did know. In fact, it had very much been an unspoken thing between you for a very, very long time. It was really just a matter of saying it - but that was always the hardest part, right?

‘I know.’ You repeated. ‘I love you too.’

‘You do?’

You softly laughed. ‘Of course I do.’

He pressed a soft kiss to your temple and pulled you back against his chest, chin resting atop your ahead. ‘Good.’

You stayed like that for a few minutes; it was undoubtedly a deeper conversation you were going to have later on, but it felt good to have it out in the open. So good, in fact, that it momentarily made you forget the last day entirely. Instead of pondering on it, you let yourself get lost entirely in Cassian’s presence, and the feeling of his body against yours and and his arms holding you. If you could have it your way, you would have stayed like this forever. The rest of the galaxy could wait.

‘I’m sorry if you thought I was going to make in time.’ He said quietly.

‘I didn’t.’ Your voice was slightly muffled by his chest. ‘Not once.’

‘I love you.’ Cassian said it more firmly this time. It still completely felt weird to say, and even more so to see you smile and say it back.

‘I love you too.’

He dipped his head down, capturing your mouth in a soft kiss. The feeling of your lips against his was familiar and foreign all at once; it was something he’d gone over in his head a thousand times, but it was nothing like either of you had imagined. It was better. Sweeter, in the kind of way that gave you butterflies in your tummy and made you feel giddy. It was worlds away from the usual dread and bloodshed that came with being in the Rebellion.

But that was quintessentially Cassian. He was everything that the war wasn’t: sweet and constant and warm. Somebody as beautiful and as caring as him both did and didn’t belong in the Rebellion. Did, because he was a good man who wanted to fight for the right thing. Didn’t, because he constantly risked his life for the greater good and you couldn’t quite stomach that idea.

‘I’ll always come back for you.’ He lightly brushed his hand against your cheek. ‘Never doubt me.’

‘I won’t.’ You promised. ‘Not ever.’

tags: @megmeg-chan @karasong @bb8sworld @marvelinsanity @poestardust @etherealsanakin @bo-kryze @punkbach @phoenixhalliwell

#cassian andor x reader #cassian andor imagine #cassian x reader #cassian imagine #cassian andor fanfiction #cassian andor fanfic #star wars x reader #star wars imagines #star wars fluff #cassian andor fluff #rogue one imagines #star wars angst

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wreckmetoji · 3 years

Text

Fight for your love

A fic in which your boyfriend’s job keeps you from obtaining what you want the most.

↳ Geto Suguru/Reader

content warning. fluff, smut, established relationship, afab reader, oral(f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, breeding kink, profanity

**Minors DNI**

2.5k words

In no way did Suguru think he was a clean, righteous person. He knew many decisions he made weren't the right ones, he knows he's had to hurt innocent people. But the way you looked at him every time he walked through the door made him believe he was. The gentle tender love and care tending to his wounds after a long day of work gone bad, hurting innocent people. You never seemed to mind, never seemed to ask, never seemed to care if the way you kissed his bruised, bloody knuckles spoke what your heart was thinking. Every time he tried to bring up his line of work, knowing there was a good chance one day you might get dragged in despite how hard he tried to keep you separate, keep you secret, you simply shook your head and smiled at him. As long as you're you, I don't care what you do, you'd say. As long as I'm happy with you here and now, I don't care what happens later. Suguru would be lying if he said he didn't come to the conclusion he couldn't live without you right there, right then, the first time you said those words with your blindingly bright smile. Everyone was far from perfect, except you. There was no such thing as perfect, except you– and sometimes, you made him feel perfect too. "I know you can't help it, but," You muttered, tongue poked out between your lips as you tied the bandage around his torso with utmost concentration, "If you're gonna get hurt, try to avoid something this close to your heart." His softened gaze followed your fingers as you gently caressed the bandages above his deep cut, the pain not even registering with how gently, how lovingly you treated him. "After all, if your heart gets hurt, so does mine." He knew, deep down, he didn't deserve you. "I'll try my best, darling." Suguru smiled, hands gently finding your hips, his forehead leaning into your chest as you cradled him from your standing position. There you stayed, slowly, gently swaying in comfortable silence. You made him feel virtuous, as if mere hours ago he didn't commit horrible, unforgivable atrocities, unforgivable and damning sins. This is how most of your evenings together would go, patching him up, dancing around each other in the kitchen as you made dinner together, if he was ever home early you'd watch a movie together. Even if it was rare with the long hours he worked, those were the days he cherished, those were the days that got him through it all. You never asked for more, even though he knew you deserved every second of his time, you deserved the world and the heavens above. What were you if not a goddess, damned to mortality, damned to a life loving him. Suguru held you close as you laid in bed, the rain pattering on the window lulling you both into a comfortable half-asleep daze. He noticed the way you kept some distance, trying not to irritate his fresh wound. "Sugu," Your voice called, urging him to open his eyes and gaze down at you. Your sudden silence intrigued him, and the way your ears went pink intrigued him even more. "What is it, little lamb?" Suguru sounded tired, voice gravelly from a long day. He kissed the crown of your head, rubbing soft circles on the small of your back, urging you to talk to him about what you so eagerly wanted to get out. "Maybe one day–" You paused again, fists balling at his bare chest, "One day, would you want to start a family?" The thought had most certainly crossed his mind, on several occasions. Suguru would regularly daydream about a peaceful life of domesticity with you, a child or two, a nice house in a nice neighborhood with a nice, respectable job. He'd always snuffed the idea, knowing that he probably wouldn't live to see his child grow up properly. Still, though, the way you pressed your cheek into his arm and stared at him with wide, inquisitive eyes had him smiling sadly. "My beautiful angel... Under different circumstances, I wouldn't have to think twice." He didn't want to lie to you, but the frown tugging at your lips had his heart clenching in his chest. "We could go somewhere they can't find you, we could move somewhere warm and sunny." Suguru chuckled at your optimism, though a twinge of sadness was behind it. They would find him, no matter what he did or where he went. He didn't dare say it, he knew your response already, that's just an excuse. "That would be nice, wouldn't it?" Your silence told him everything he needed to know. There wasn't anything he could say, so instead he kissed your forehead, your cheek, your nose, then your lips. There he lingered, sighing gently when your hands moved up to his shoulders, then his neck. Heightened by your saddened state, the way you pulled him closer, fingers brushing through the hair on his neck, thumbs stroking his jawline, was all so desperate. It was your silent plea, your attempt to change a fate already set in stone. "I can't stand to see you sad, little lamb." He smiled against your lips, slowly shifting on the bed until he was hovering over you. Those eyes, the way you looked at him, so wide and clear and swimming with emotion. So pure, so untainted, so good. Everything he wasn't, and everything he strives to be. "I'll make it up to you, darling," He kissed you again, then your chin, then your neck, "I promise." Only when he received a nod of approval did he proceed, gently pulling your underwear off, oh so gently helping you lift your night shirt over your head. Never in the years you'd been together has he grown accustom to just how lucky he is to exist on this world at the same time you did. "You're so beautiful, absolutely perfect. Have I told you this?" Of course he has, but the smile on his face was so cheeky, so mischievous it made you giggle. "Maybe once or twice." Suguru returned your laugh, pulling his hair back into a bun with the hair tie on his wrist, before descending down your body. Every place he stopped, he kissed, nuzzled, nibbled, eliciting a sigh from you nearly every time. The sight of your eyes closing and head tilting back once he reached your core, giving your bundle of nerves a sweet kitten lick, was akin to seeing God. Surely it was the holiest thing he would witness in all his time on this earth. You were, after all, nothing short of an angel. Making himself more comfortable, Suguru gripped your thighs, throwing them over his shoulders. The soft look you gave him, those sweet eyes, your perfect parted kiss-plumped lips... "Beautiful," Was all he whispered into the plush skin if your thigh before parting you with his thumbs, gently kissing, licking, and sucking your sensitive clit. The long whine you emitted only spurred him on, fingers teasing your entrance by touching and squeezing everywhere but where you wanted. Admittedly, it's been a while since the two of you got intimate time together. Either he would come home too late, or too hurt, for the two of you to comfortably do anything. You never seemed to press. "I'm sorry I haven't been taking care of you, little lamb," Suguru replaced his mouth with his hands, thumb swirling circles around your bundle of nerves, while his index and forefinger ever so slowly entered your heat. He set an immediately fast pace, fox-like eyes drinking in your pleasure twisted face. The sweet sounds dripping from your mouth were like music to his ears, the arch of your back from the mattress eliciting a dark chuckle from him. "I know I haven't been the most solicitous boyfriend as of late," His fingers curled inside you at his words, "I hear you in the shower, you know." He kissed his way back up your body, stopping only briefly to flick his tongue across a pebbled nipple, stopping mere centimeters away from your lips. He wanted to bask in your whines and moans for just a moment longer, his personal hymn. "Naughty little thing, never asking for help." Suguru didn't get to tease you for long, your hands finding quick purchase on his cheeks, tugging him down and kissing him with desperate force. Your frenzied, open mouthed kisses were met ten-fold, a slow, low moan coming from him at the uncharacteristic abrasiveness you were displaying. The way your walls clenched around his fingers let him know just how bad you'd been needing him, the whispered I'm cumming against his lips. When your hand came down to palm at his very hard erection outside his briefs was when he decided he'd have to reign you in much tighter than usual tonight. Tonight wasn't about him. His fingers worked in tandem with your heaving chest, every push and pull in sync with your hurried breaths. He had half a mind to pin your arms above your head and fuck you stupid with his fingers, but he couldn't deny you of what you really wanted. "I know you're eager, darling, but be good." He saw the shiver run up your body at his authoritative tone, one he didn't use often. At the same time, he pulled down his boxer briefs and added his ring finger to your dripping cunt. It isn't that he had to, he knew you were already perfectly wet for him, he just loved the way your thin fingers gripped the sheets, the way your head thrashed from side to side. Very briefly, Suguru entertained the thought of a golden band wrapped around his finger as he defiled you with his hands. How beautiful it would look disappearing, reappearing, covered in your slick. It made his cock twitch. The second he removed his sopping fingers from you, he'd lined up the thick head of his cock with your trembling sex, leaning back with his hands on your knees. He could see the surprise on your face, your arm half-way reached to the bedside drawer to get a condom. "I know," He crooned, stroking your knee. Admittedly, the two of you weren't diligent with using condoms when you didn't have to, but he was well aware this was the week you really should be using them, lest you want unexpected surprises. Your teary eyes and beaming smile could put the pearly golden gates of heaven to shame. The way you squealed as he pushed in had his own eyes rolling back, forcing your knees apart further until he had completely buried himself to in your welcoming heat. Having been a while, he had to take a shaky breath before slowly, ever so slowly, pulling out to the tip, pushing back in with a bit more haste. How quickly, and how tightly, you wrapped your legs around his waist nearly winded him, enraptured cries of faster, please, I need you making him groan. "You poor thing, so needy," Suguru barely managed to breathe out, hips moving at a steady pace. The obscene sound of your slick sticking to his hips every time he tenderly fucked into you made him acutely aware of exactly how long its been. Ashamedly aware of how close he was to his climax, Suguru's thin fingers moved between your bodies, sliding in a quick back and forth motion against your clit at an attempt to get you closer, faster. The immediate reaction had his hips stuttering, your gummy walls clenching intensely around him, your impending orgasm pushing him over the edge. He only briefly stopped moving, whispering an apology into your hair as he tenderly flipped your body. Having you lay prone was one of your favorite positions, but it was mostly done to hide the embarrassed pink tint climbing up his neck from your gaze. White seed squished out and dripped down your sex, between your thighs, when he pushed back into you, the feeling alone having you throwing your head back and crying out for him. He continued his unrelenting pace, seeming completely unfazed by his own orgasm. "You like that, hm?" Suguru teased, a hand sliding down the curve of your hip, reaching under you, pressing his palm flat against where he felt himself protruding on your pelvis. "You like getting filled up with my cum, you want me to fuck a baby into you, darling?" His lewd words elicited muffled screams and cries of affirmation, your face buried in a pillow and biting down. Usually, Suguru would save his dirty talk for rough, frustrated, passionate sex, but how badly you needed him, begging him, to fill you up again had his mind hazy. He knew you well enough that you didn't have to tell him you were coming undone. "Such a good girl, you're so– so good, cum for me." Demanding words had you squeezing around his cock, the flutter and spasm of your orgasm urging him to move faster, harder, climbing another of his own release. Suguru was much more vocal this time around, hissing through clenched teeth, muttering sweet nothings and your name and I love you, I love you, I love you so much. Rutting and rolling his hips into you as he coated your walls white, his arm came around your chest and hugged you back against him. He pressed long, searing kisses into the shoulder his chin had been resting on, only pulling out from your messy cum-coated slick once he was sure you were satisfied with how thoroughly he bred you. You tiredly collapsed back into his chest, head turned to lazily gaze up at his equally tired, smiling face. He knew what transpired was irresponsible at best, the weight of parental responsibility already settling in the back of his mind. For now, he would simply entertain the idea. The inquisitive gaze you held had him chuckling, kissing your cheek tenderly, as if that would answer all the questions he could see you wanted to ask him. He never fed you lies, but when he told you everything will be okay, we'll find a way, I promise it sounded almost sincere enough to pass as the truth. Soft strokes of your hair lulled you to sleep, but Suguru found himself wide awake and staring at your beautiful lips, nose, lashes, the curve if your jaw, the dips of your collarbone. He found himself thinking of your words more than he should, knowing what the outcome would inevitably be. He came to the conclusion that for you, he would fight for his freedom. He would fight for you, for a family, for a normal life, somewhere warm and sunny. In this life, in the next life, in the afterlife, he would fight for you and love you with everything he had, his beautiful guardian angel.

#suguru smut #suguru geto smut #getou suguru x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto smut #suguru geto #suguru geto fluff #geto suguru fluff #geto jjk #geto suguru jjk #reader insert #anime smut #anime x reader #minors do not interact

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amazingmaeve · 3 years

Text

red

loving him was red

summary:

george always wanted to open a joke shop with his brother. when they decide to get back at umbridge and leave school to pursue his dream he also leaves behind his girlfriend.

warnings - angst, a bit of fluff

word count - 2648

a/n - a writing challenge that @chokemepansy is doing! also got inspired by Taylor Swifts red! angst prompt 42 from her prompt list!

h.p masterlist // george weasley

George to Y/N was one of the most perfect people in her life. When she met him it changed her life for the best. He came in her life when she needed something good, when her whole life was horrible he was the only light in her life. But they also had a lot of arguments that had one or the other storming out saying hurtful things.

But they always found their way back to each other.

No matter what one or the other would apologize for the words they said and the other would smile and pull them in for a kiss. No matter what that’s how it always ended. It wasn’t the healthiest of relationships but when George was there for her it always made Y/N’s feel better and feel loved.

Even though she hated the fights she loved the time she spent with him. The times where they would just cuddle while Y/N read a book. George would just play with her hair and sometimes would just watch as her eyes glazed across the book with interest. Sometimes would bite her lip if she’s confused by something. Other times she helped him with his studies and it would help some of the times.

George and Y/N would also just sneak around the Hogwarts castle and make out in corners whilst skipping some of her classes. She normally didn’t do this but George convinced her to skip some of the classes. Luckily it usually didn’t hurt her grades since she studied a lot.

Y/N was also convinced to help Fred and George with their pranks but if the prank seemed too harsh she wouldn’t do that. Fred and Y/N were friends but not the closest friends in the world. They often only talked when George was around since nothing else tied them to each other. She didn’t hate him and he didn’t hate her.

They would also go to the Three Broomsticks for dates and would just sit and talk about each other’s day. Y/N would just get lost in George’s eyes and the way that they sparkled whenever he mentioned the pranks he and Fred did. It warmed her heart to see him so happy about something.

Towards the end of their relationship the arguments have weirdly started to die down and George and Y/N started talking through their problems.

Maybe this was because of Umbridge coming to Hogwarts that year the relationship has matured more and they started to act like adults coming into their 7th year. Though one big thing was hanging over their head.

The future.

Y/N wanted to be a curse breaker and George wanted to run a joke shop with Fred and Y/N was okay with that and would support him through everything. But the thing was that Voldemort was on the rise and his supporters were coming back. It scared a lot of people especially Y/N since she was muggle born and her family were muggles and could be hurt by this. She knew if she wanted to be a curse breaker she would have to be more brave.

She would often talk to George about this instead of keeping this stuff in. He would comfort her by letting her bury her head in his chest as he rested his chin on her head. He caressed her hair as she wrapped her arms around his waist and felt herself start to calm down a bit.

George was starting to be a comfort hotline for her.

Y/N also noticed that George has become more secretive throughout the year and she just cut it down to him and Fred planning and making pranks. She didn’t know it was a secret army that was created when Umbridge cut back on the defense against the dark arts.

It hurt her that George didn’t tell her about it or that she wasn’t even invited to become a part of this army. She wanted to be able to help. She felt useless and it sank to the bottom of her stomach that she wasn’t even trusted by her own boyfriend.

Before she could even argue with him, he grabbed her arm and pulled her to his room.

“George what the hell was that,” Y/N snapped crossing her arms across her chest. She was just talking to Luna and Neville in the common room when he dragged her to his room.

“I needed to talk to you,” George rushed out rubbing the back of his neck.

“Why didn’t you tell me about Dumbledore's army,” Y/N angrily questioned ignoring what he had said. George huffed, rolling his eyes, feeling frustrated.

“Y/N let me-,” George was about to talk but was interrupted by Y/N.

“No seriously was I not trusted by you or was it for you to get away from me?” Y/N asked, clenching her jaw as her fist curled at her side from the anger coursing through her veins.

“I think we should break up,” George blurted out making Y/N’s eyes widened. She didn’t want to break up with him over this. Yes she was angry at the moment but it didn’t mean she wanted to lose him.

“What-what,” Y/N stuttered her fist un curling from the shocking news she had just got.

“Me and Fred are going to be starting a joke shop next year,” George explained, not meeting her eyes.

“That’s it George I said I’d support you through that,” Y/N huffed and ran her fingers through her hair.

“I just don’t see you in my future,” George says quietly, his eyes traveling to his feet, not wanting to see her reaction to this. He promised himself he’d do this for her, so that she wouldn’t get hurt.

“I see,” Y/N whispers then biting her lip trying to not let the tears fall from her eyes. But her shoulders slumped when she heard the words tumble from his mouth. Sadness raked through her body and she could feel her feet start to wobble and her eyes start to glisten. “Well goodbye George,” She turned away and left the room not wanting to see his reaction to this.

Y/N decided to focus on her studies since she would be taking most of them tomorrow and needed to pass them to be a curse breaker. She needed to stop thinking about George so she could have at least a good career. She didn’t get much sleep that night.

But the next day as she finished her last N.E.W.T.S Y/N watched as Umbridge walked out of the room since she heard some noises outside of the classroom. It was a shock to everyone as George and Fred came riding in on their broomsticks with fireworks in their hands.

She didn’t get up from her seat like everyone else. She just sat down playing with her hands as the twins left the classroom creating a W in the sky.

After the school year was over Y/N was happy that she didn’t have to go back to the place that gave her so many memories with George. But when she applied to be a curse breaker she was luckily accepted but that meant she had to work for Bill Weasley.

Y/N met him a few times when she stayed over at the Weasleys house for Christmas. Bill of course recognized her and didn’t ask anything about her or George since he heard they broke up. She was thankful for that and found it easy to get along with the eldest Weasley. He was a good person to talk to.

For that whole year Y/N got used to the job only going on a few missions since she was the newbie. But things got weird when Voldemort killed Dumbledore by Snape.

She was invited to Bill and Fleurs wedding and she didn’t know if she should accept it or not since Y/N knew George would be there and it would be so awkward. But she did accept it eventually since Bill was such a good friend to her and she also heard about him getting attacked and wanted to make sure he was okay.

She didn’t take anyone as a date, she’s tried to date after school but it never worked out they always ended things before they got to serious.

Y/N managed to avoid George and even Fred that night but before it could end death eaters came to the wedding and attacked. She didn’t know what the hell was going on but she does know that Harry, Hermione, and Ron were going to go hunt for the Horcruxes.

She left Weasley's burrow with worry in the pit of her stomach. Fear filled her bones, fear for the trio and the Weasley’s. Y/N was even worried about her parents, who weren’t a part of the wizarding world which was worse since they couldn’t protect themselves. She went home that night, nervousness filling her blood as she entered her parents house.

Ever since she graduated from Hogwarts Y/N lives with her parents until she can get enough money to buy a place for herself.

Luckily her parents were okay and she went to sleep a little bit better. But still she worried for the Weasley’s and anyone who crossed Voldemort and his little posse. She just hoped everyone would be fine and wouldn’t end up dead.

The following year she kept in contact with Bill, even though she was staying with her parents to protect them.

Once Y/N heard about the battle she immediately signed up for it. She didn’t want anyone to get hurt. She wanted to help protect the people at the school so they could see the daylight the next morning. She didn’t care if she ran into George since this was a life or death situation.

The battle was a hard one. A lot of people died. Remus and Tonks being the ones closest to her. For a moment there Y/N and everyone around her even thought that Harry was dead and Voldemort as victorious. But luckily Harry wasn’t.

They won. But what did it come with. Casualties, families who wouldn’t see their children ever again. Even though they did win, Y/N felt like she failed them, she failed there families. After the war she even had nightmares about her friends and family dying and her not being able to save them.

She always woke up in a sweat.

The nights where Y/N couldn’t sleep she thought about George. What he was doing? Was he fine? Did he ever think about her? She usually shook those thoughts out of her head but ever since she broke up with him it felt like emptiness filled her life. But she masked that with a fake smile and burying herself in work and she was still doing this.

Y/N’s parents encouraged her to get her own place but reassured her that they weren’t trying to kick her out. She knew that but it felt like she was a burden on them so she just decided to move out and found a cottage in the forest. It wasn’t as scary as the forbidden forest since there were no monsters in this one.

The silence welcomed her with a warm hug. Y/N didn’t hate it; she liked being alone at the moment. She often spent her time watching shows late at night then waking up early to go to work with bags under her eyes.

One day Y/N went to go and get some ice cream in Diagon alley she saw a flash of red hair in the crowd and she immediately knew who it was.

George.

Y/N knew it could’ve been Fred but she knew George too well to know that was him. So she did what most people would’ve done. Ran behind an alley so he didn’t see her.

Before she could fully get behind the building he caught her eye and yelled out for her.

“Y/N is that you,” George asks looking between the buildings with a smile gracing his lips. She stopped in her tracks and took a deep breath before turning around with a fake smile appearing on her face.

“George it’s so nice to see you,” Y/N says while walking up to stand in front of him.

Before she could say anything else he wrapped his arms around her waists and hugged her. He buried his face in her neck while Y/N placed her arms around his neck and took in his familiar scent she loved oh so much. She missed it. She didn’t want to miss him but Y/N couldn’t help it.

“How’ve you been,” George asks kindly, finally breaking free from the hug.

“Oh I’ve been great,” Y/N lied straight through her teeth as she stared up at him. There was an awkward silence before George spoke.

“I wanted to ask a question,” George wrings his hands in front of his stomach.

“You already did,” Y/N responds with a smirk, a real one this time. “I’m kidding, go ahead,” She says after seeing the look on his face.

“I wanted to know if you want to meet up later so we could catch up,” George asks nervously as stands there with his eyes at his feet.

“Uh,” Y/N started to say and she didn’t even know what she was going to answer him with but deciding it would be good to catch up with some old friends she answered, “Yes.”

“Really,” George says shocked, he thought she’d say no since the last time they talked he dumped her.

“Yes I need to get out more anyways,” Y/N gives him a half smile before getting a pen and grabbing his hand. “This is my address, pick me up at….” She says looking up at him wanting to know when he wanted to go out.

“9 darling,” George answered and looked at the writing on his hand after she let it go. Y/N felt butterflies enter her stomach when he called her that. It’s been so long she’s been called that by someone she cares about.

When Y/N got home she immediately regretted agreeing to go on this date with George. She knew that seeing him again would bring back some old feelings that were being harbored.

She decided that when George got to the cottage Y/N would talk to him about all of her feelings.

“Hey,” Y/N greeted when George showed up at her front door with some flowers. She took them with a smile. “Come in,” She opened the door wider letting him come in.

“Nice place,” George complimented.

“Thanks,” Y/N felt nervous again when she thought about what she wanted to talk to him about. “I need to talk to you,” She rushed out as she stood in front of him.

“Knew this was gonna come,” George muttered as his smile dropped. “Before you say anything can I say something,” He asked with a pleading look on his face, Y/N nodded. “I wanted to say that breaking up with you was one of the biggest mistakes of my life and ever since I did it I’ve never been the same,” George takes a break before saying. “I'd take our relationship back in a heartbeat love.”

“I can’t do that George,” Y/N whispered as her eyes shined with tears. George’s head dropped once he heard her. “I want to, I want to take you back so much but I can’t,” Her lip quivered as a tear rolled off her cheek.

“Then why don’t you,” George whispered hope filling his eyes.

“I’m just destined to have no love.”

#asteria’s 4k celebration #george weasley x reader #george weasley smut #george weasley drabble #george weasley angst #george weasley #harry potter x reader #harry potter smut

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nat-20s · 3 years

Text

Part 5 of Wonderful! Au. *boyband voice* banter’s back alright!

Also on AO3

~*~

Jon: Hello everyone, and welcome back to our regular format. If my husband being horribly soppy-

Martin:-hey!-

Jon: -turned you off the how, this should be a refreshing return to formula, though I can’t guarantee there won’t be further horrible soppiness-

Martin, performatively under his breath: -most people thought it was charming-

Jon: -as that tends to happen when one is recording with the love of their life. If last week’s episode is the only one that you like, too bad, I’m back in full form, and should be at least through the rest of the season.

Martin: This show doesn’t have seasons? Due to the whole lack of a narrative thing?

Jon: I was referring to spring.

Martin: Oh, right.

[A beat passes.]

Martin, flatly: Oh. Great goof hon.

Jon, smug: Thank you.

Jon, sincere: Also, before we get properly started, I did want to actually thank everyone who sent well wishes.

M artin: Yes! We got positively inundated with lovely messages, it definitely brightened both of our days. I would even say it was wonderful.

[Jon groans.]

Jon: I am..not proud of the energy we’ve created for this episode so far, and we haven’t even hit the small wonders. Speaking of, do you have a small wonder this week?

Martin: Mine’s bad action movies.

Jon: Really? I had no idea you even liked them, let alone consider them wonderful.

Martin: Okay, so, saying I like them is a bit of a misnomer? It’s more that I like what they can do more than the movies themselves?

Jon: Elaborate?

Martin: It probably comes as a surprise to no one that I’ve tried my hand at a fair amount of mindfulness and mediation techniques. I’ve found poetry and journaling have been helpful for actually processing life events and whatnot, but when it comes to giving your brain a hard wipe and reset, nothing is half as quick and effective as a shitty shoot-em-up. Somethings about 2 hours of cartoonish, pg-13 violence held together with the absolute loosest of plots brings me to a state of mental blankness that would make a monk jealous.

Jon: How have I never witnessed you doing this? When are you sneaking off to go see Micheal Tarantino or who ever films?

M artin: That’s definitely not the right name.

Jon: Martin, dear, I don’t care. And you’re dodging the question.

Martin, fond: I’m not dodging anything. Since apparently we’re getting into it, you haven’t caught me cavorting with a movie involving more explosions than character development lately because I haven’t been. Haven’t needed it, in recent years. Turns out when you’re not crushingly lonely and working a literal nightmare of job, there’s less of a drive to try and escape your own thoughts. Shocker, I know. Still, to anyone out there that feels like their brain is on fire, go try watching a fast and furious. Any of ‘em, it doesn’t matter. Or even better, Chronicles of Riddick. I can’t remember a single goddamn detail of that movie, which makes it perfect for what I’m talking about.

Jon: I have the strong feeling that th is is a “mileage may vary” scenario.

Martin: Well, yeah, that’s this whole podcast. Plus, I imagine that movies like this would cause more stress to someone who cares about, say, world-building or rules consistency.

Jon: I wonder who you could possibly be referring to.

Martin: It’s a purely hypothetical person, love, don’t worry about it. Any small wonders?

Jon: Yes! Particularly relevant to the last week, my small wonder is stripping the sheets from your bed when it’s been too long between washes.

Martin: How very specific. M ost people would just say ‘clean sheets’.

Jon: Well, for one, I’m fairly certain that we’ve already covered clean sheets-

Martin: Shit, have we? Thank god other people keep track of this, otherwise this show would be unbearably repetitive.

Jon: Christ, yes. I typically check the website a good three times while prepping, and every about one out of those three times I find I’m trying to do an topic we did 30 episodes again. Anyway, um, it’s just nice, I think. When you’ve been too busy or sick or away for awhile, tossing the sheets in the wash makes a room instantly seem nicer. Of all the chores out there, this one, at least for me, has the highest reward to effort ratio.

Martin: Hard agree. Especially when the y have that slight funk of having been around to long, getting rid of that is such a relief. Speaking of, we need to change our sheets soon.

Jon: We can do it after the episode. Who goes first this week?

Martin: Considering last week was only me talking, I’m gonna say it’s you.

Jon: Alright, then. My first thing this week is Martin K. Blackwood.

Martin: Absolutely not!

Jon: Oh, you can do a whole episode on me, but I can’t do one little segment on my husband, whom I love very dearly?

Martin: Not while I’m sat here, no!

Jon: So you’re saying you don’t want me to tell the internet that your resolve to be kind even in the face of indescribable cruelty is one of the mot breathtaking things I’ve ever witnessed, or how I find it incredibly endearing when you get so emotional that your voice comes out as a squeak, or even that, on a more base level, you’re very physically attractive, and I could lose entire days thinking about your arms alone?

Martin, audibly blushing, voice the aforementioned squeak: Oh my god, Jon!

Jon, laughing: Then it’s probably for the best that my actual first thing is best friends.

Martin, peaking the audio levels: Oh you absolute bastard! Do you enjoy this? Do you get some sort of perverse sense of entertainment from riling me up?

Jon: Oh, don’t you start. As if you’re not as bad as I am. Maybe even worse.

Martin: That’s not…

Jon: Yes?

Martin: Okay. Maybe it’s slightly true. Really, what is romance for if not flustering your partner with compliments?

Jon, teasing: I certainly can’t think of anything.

Martin: Hush, you.

Jon: No, I don’t think I will.

Martin: Fine. I suppose you can tell our delightful audience about the power of friendship or whatever.

Jon: I would’ve assumed more enthusiasm, considering this segment is still, indirectly, about you.

Martin: In what way?

Jon: In the way that, to the shock of all, you’re my best friend.

Martin, pleased: Oh, is that what I am?

Jon, exasperated: Yes, dearest husband, I wouldn’t have married you otherwise. Though, upon reflection, I knew you were my best friend before I knew I held romantic feelings for you.

Martin: When was that?

Jon, letting out a breath that vibrates his lips: God it was...2016? I think it might’ve literally been the day after you told me about your CV.

Martin: That early? Huh. I wonder if that’s what people were picking up when they said they we were close.

Jon: What people?

Martin: I don’t know specifically, that’s just what Daisy told me.

Jon: Daisy? When the hell-?

Martin: It...was when she was interrogating me? And, because sometimes I have to be a parody of myself, pretty much my only take away from that interrogation was “people think me and Jon are close”.

Jon: Well then. It’s not like they were wrong.

Martin, smug: No, no they weren’t.

Martin, sincere: And you’re my best friend, too.

Jon: I was certainly hoping that you’re in this relationship for more than my good looks and incredible fortune, both in the monetary and luck sense.

Martin: You say that as if you aren’t good looking, which we all know is patently untrue.

Jon: You’re biased. You’d say I was good looking if I were nothing more than some primordial ooze with thoughts about its station.

Martin: I’m being completely objective. If you were primordial ooze with thoughts above its station, you’d be the cutest ooze of them all. That’s just scientific fact.

Jon: I’m starting to think we might be insufferable.

Martin: Starting to? Might be?

Jon:…

[Jon clears his throat]

Jon: What I find wonderful about the concept of best friends is, to me, they’re the closest thing real life has to soulmates. I don’t personally believe that there’s some..grand mystic force that drives people to be tied together in the manner that narrative typical soulmates are, and if there was I don’t think it would necessarily be the kind of emotional, heartfelt bond one would hope for, but I do believe that there’s individuals that get to know one another, and because of that knowledge, they chose to stick with one another. It doesn’t have to be a romantic, which is why I say best friend rather than specifically ‘spouse’, but I would argue that the basis of a strong romance like you and I have, is very much rooted in that connection. A true best friendship is an equal partnership, and there’s a sense of..matched sensibilities and understanding that can be utterly incandescent when it happens.

I also think that having one or more best friends makes living life on a day to day basis both better and just flat easier. The dark times aren’t as dark, and the bright times shine even more. I know from my own personal experience there are events that I..that I don’t know how I would’ve made it through without you. Hell, last week my..recovery period would’ve taken much longer if you hadn’t been there.

It’s an amazing thing to have someone to share things with, both triumphs and burdens. Um, also, according to Dictionary.com, the term best friends in English has been around since the 1200s. Something about that delights me, like, yes, we’ve had this casual way of referring to a Favorite Person for roughly 800 years. That makes it a hold-out from early Middle English. I dunno, it’s one of those things that make me feel overall very charmed by humanity.

Martin, audibly smiling: No, yeah, hard agree.

Jon: What’s that look for?

Martin: Nothing. Just. I love you a whole lot, you know that?

Jon, voice soft: I may have heard you say that once or twice. Per hour.

Martin: Only that often? I really need to be more diligent about that.

[There’s a bet of silence, presumably where they’re making doe eyes at each other.]

Jon: What’s your first thing?

Martin: Oh, um, right. Rats!

Jon: The expression or the animal?

Martin: Jon, have you ever once heard me say “rats” as an expression? Obviously I’m referring to the animal.

Jon: Ah. Should’ve known, considering that what, a third?, of all your segments have been on animals.

Martin: Yeah? And? You got a problem with critters? With creatures? With lil guys?

Jon, laughing: No, no, it’s very sweet. I’m just surprised you never became a vet.

Martin: Oh believe me, I wanted to. But then I learned that it was not, in fact, a job composed entirely of getting paid to play with other people’s pets.

Jon: You had that job, though, didn’t you? I thought I remembered you mentioning a month long stint at a doggie day care.

Martin, sighing dreamily: Best job I ever had. Too bad that place was shut down after it was revealed to be a money laundering front.

Jon: Good lord.

Jon: Martin did you...did you know it was a money laundering front at the time?

Martin:

Martin: Would it make you feel better if I said no?

Jon: Martin!

Martin: I figured it out like a week in, but, like, who cares? The pay was decent and the floor was super easy to clean, which is very much a plus for even a front of a doggie day care.

Jon: That’s...rather a lot. How about instead of getting into that any further, you tell me about rodents.

Martin: I would love to. But first, we have a shoutout!

Jon: Ooo, a shoutout. Does it specify who should read?

Martin: Let me check. It...does...not…..

...

Jon: Martin?

[A beat.]

Martin: Right! Sorry, um. This week’s shoutout is from Tim, to Danny. It says, “Danny! My favorite person who shares genetic material with me! I wanted to say thank you for your podcast obsession from 4 months ago, and specifically for telling me about these marrieds. They’ve gotten me through many a dull hour at the publishing house. Also, with this shoutout, I’ve officially gotten ahead on the Superior [Last Name Redacted] Brother scoreboard, so suck it. Love you lots, and looking forward to your visit next month, Tim.”

Jon: Oh.

Jon: Um. That’s very..sweet? I think? Mostly?

Martin: Yeah, I’d say so. Uh. We have to take a quick break because, uh, someone is..at our front door! Be back with you all in, from your side of things, just a moment.

#wonderful! au #jonmartin #jon sims #martin blackwood #>:3 #shoutouts are their versions of jumbotrons btw

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zevexsii · 3 years

Text

norton campbell sfw + nsfw hcs (gn s/o)

holy shit i love norton campbell

cut for length!

norton’s a very complicated guy. he’s seen some shit, done some shit, and quite frankly hates most of the world around him. not because he actually thinks it’s bad- he just pushes away everything and everyone he cares about as a defense mechanism.

he wouldn’t necessarily realize that he was developing feelings for his s/o right off the bat- he’d get closer and closer to them without actually thinking about the butterflies that your smile gave him or the protective urges that enveloped most of his critical thinking skills during matches.

it really depends on how easily you open up to him. especially if you’re emotionally available early on. i doubt he would entirely open up to you about the mining incident, or even about the root of any of his problems, but if you were there on norton’s bad days to calm him down or let him vent, he’ll fall head over heels for you even quicker.

not particularly talkative. norton doesn’t really know how to keep a conversation going and deflect too-personal questions at the same time, so most days he just enjoys sitting with you.

right before The ConfessionTM, norton begins to isolate himself more than usual. he does his best to avoid you at mealtimes, will ditch matches that you’re both playing in, paying no mind to the consequences. it’s hard for him to even look at you without losing his composure- either spacing out and making heart eyes in your direction or having graphic thoughts of your death at his hands. it would be accidental, of course. he’d lash out and hurt you; make a mistake in a match and leave you bloody.

if you seek him out, it might make it worse; he’ll probably snap at you, but he can’t hold up his apathetic front for long. he breaks down as you turn to leave, grabbing for your hand or your wrist. he hangs his head and asks you not to go in a low, hoarse whisper. he’s sniffling.

this is the first time norton would seek out physical comfort from you. his movements are shaky and apprehensive as he tugs you closer to him- depending on where you managed to corner him, norton’ll ask to sit down and be held by way of burying his face in the crook of your neck. he’s terrified you’re going to pull away the entire time.

indulge him. gently card your fingers through his messy, dark hair or rub gentle circles onto his back and he might cry. poor guy’s repressed to hell and back.

norton’s feelings for you are quite obvious at this point, but he needs to make sure to let you know, just in case. when he says that he’s in love with you, he’s breathless and the words are harried. if he’s able to look at you at all, his brown eyes are anxious and searching- begging for an answer, even if it’s one that would destroy him completely. he doesn’t really expect you to reciprocate his affections- he’s high maintenance at the very least in his own eyes.

when you tell him that you love him too, norton is awestruck. he has to verify that he heard you correctly- tell him again and he lets out a watery chuckle proceeded by a shit-eating grin.

hold onto him a little while longer. he needs it.

now that norton’s confessed and you’re officially together, his behavior towards you in public doesn’t change too much- in lobbies before matches or mealtimes he lingers by you, keeping up a low conversation about mundane things. he’s unsurprisingly uninterested in pda, except for special occasions.

in private, there are a lot of casual, domestic touches. norton’s inclined to come up and wrap his arms around you from behind, or rest a hand on the small of your back as you’re working away at a task.

adores forehead/cheek kisses. the simple things make him soft beyond belief. deep, passionate kisses are usually reserved for when things are getting hot n’ heavy, plus they trigger norton’s claustrophobia very easily. norton normally despises any sort of attention drawn to his scars- they’re a massive insecurity of his, not to mention the horrible reminder of his past that they bring up, but if you give him small smooches on his upper cheek, or the border between scarred flesh and his normal tan, he’ll melt.

can cook surprisingly well! norton’s been alone for the great majority of his life- not to mention he lived with a bunch of bachelors, so he knows the basics. however, anything you make will be devoured within seconds. really enjoys sweets!! uses excess frosting on your lips or cheek as an excuse to kiss you <33

is a pretty big eater!! norton’s a beefy guy and he tells you that he’s gotta keep himself strong in order to protect you <3 he’s also got a phat ass

norton’s a bit clueless when it comes to asking for cuddles; he’ll just sort of drape himself over you or mumble about being tired, hoping you’ll take the hint. on bad days, he doesn’t even want to get out of bed. everything’s just too much, he hopes you’ll understand.

let norton rest his head in your lap or hide his face in your shoulder. sometimes it’s humiliating for him to let you see him like this- hold him close and gently play with his hair or intertwine your fingers in his. actions like that help ground norton.

coo soft things in his ears. tell him you love him, that it isn’t his fault. that you’ll stay with him no matter what. these reassurances in particular help combat his overwhelming abandonment issues.

on regular days, norton’s favorite cuddle positions are probably those that involve you laying your head on his broad chest, or him holding you from behind.

very outdoorsy! go on walks with him and he’ll point out interesting rocks and the two of you will pocket geodes to take home and crack open. offer norton small things that you found on the way home, or gems that you pilfered from the golden cave map. it may not seem like a lot, but realizing that you care enough about norton to remember the small things that he enjoys makes him feel endlessly loved.

i can’t stress enough how much norton appreciates domesticity. dude’s had a rough life, at this point he just wants to settle down in a stable place with someone who loves him, hopefully with a few kids, if his s/o is up for that!

nsfw

norton is practically a connoisseur of intense, rough sex. as mentioned above, he’s got a lot of repressed shit to deal with and most of his more ‘vulnerable’ emotions are turned into anger. unhealthy coping mechanisms go brrrrr.

needless to say, it’s best to use a safeword with norton.

that’s not to say he doesn’t enjoy slow, passionate stuff- most days he’s perfectly happy to bury himself inside you however you need.

during slow, soft sex, norton prefers to be ridden. it allows him to sit back and revel in the pleasure of being fucked by his lovely, lovely s/o.

his fear of abandonment also comes into play during sex. he’ll get you begging for his cock, whimpering uncontrollably about how badly you need him inside of you. deep down, norton yearns to be needed by someone.

not the most vocal partner, but lets loose a plethora of gasps and grunts once he’s got your tight hole stretched around him- most dirty talk consists of half-formed, growled curses that go straight south.

always preps you with oral. he doesn’t care how ready you are for his dick, he needs to finish you off with his mouth first. norton’s definition of finishing you off consists of bruising and biting all over your hips and upper thighs before moving on to rub a calloused finger over your clit or give light strokes to your cock, paying special attention to the vein running along the underside. by the time he’s done, you’ll have cum at least twice and that’s if norton’s rushing it.

unsurprisingly addicted to marking you. nothing riles norton up more than watching you interact with the other survivors while they frantically try to ignore the bruises and hickeys that have crawled up your neck and right under your jawline. if said survivor glances to norton afterward, he’ll toss a sleazy smirk in their direction. you’re fucking him and everyone knows it.

not really a fan of missionary. norton’s partial to fucking you from behind and leaving small scratches and bruises from how tightly his massive hands grabbed your hips.

he’s a thigh and an ass guy. ‘nuff said. he doesn’t have anything against boobs, though!

won’t introduce choking or restraining you- norton wants to revel in every little twitch and movement you make while he shoves himself between your thighs. of course if you ask for either of those things, norton will indulge you. choking would probably do well with his size kink.

definitely has a breeding kink. all he wants is to completely fill you up with his seed- he’ll go as many rounds as he can, desperate to stuff you full of his cum. he’ll degrade you while he does this- calling you his little whore, going on and on about how desperate you are for his cum.

a fair bit into overstimulation. it feeds norton’s sorely battered pride that no one else can see you like this- flushed and nearly in tears, letting out strangled mewls of pleasure while his cock slams against your prostate/g-spot. don’t even think about hiding your face in a pillow, either. the noises and expressions you make are part of how norton is assured he’s doing a good job- he also thinks you’re damn beautiful, all unraveled for him like this.

as stated above, norton prefers to cum inside of you, but if you’re not up for that he’ll pull out and cum on your ass or in his hand.

pulls your hair quite a bit- he’s pulled strands out in the past and apologizes like hell afterward. it’s not his intention to hurt you.

aftercare!! soft. norton’ll offer to wash your hair and wash your back- his hands are strong and more often than not, he ends up massaging your shoulders. wash his hair and he’s in heaven. lots of mildly soapy forehead kisses and whispered “i love you”s as the two of you crawl into bed, your head tucked under norton’s.

#norton campbell x reader #norton campbell idv #prospector #idv x reader #identity v x reader #idv x reader headcanons #prospector x reader #idv prospector #norton campbell #norton campbell x reader headcanons #identity v x reader headcanons #idv smut #identity v smut #norton campbell smut #i'm a bit unsatisfied with this but i can always post more #identity v prospector #norton simp hours

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cuziloveyou7 · 3 years

Text

Festering feelings

Pairing: Bokuto Kōtarō x gn!reader

Wordcount: 1.7k

Warnings: angst, mentions of depression, anxiety and panic attacks. Also kind of mentioning eating disorder?

A/n: I know I said I don't like angst and stuff, but since I'm a walking angst piece right now... here ya go! I did it! Someone help me out bc idk how to do tw! If I missed something please tell me! Also please bare in mind that this is my first real fic after not having written anything for 7 years.

This is not proof read, I made this around 1.30am bc I had an idea.......

It was slow, very slow, yet very fast. The first thing that happened was just build up tension. You were mad, frustrated. You needed to vent but didn't want to bother anyone. You would usually confide in Bokuto but he was so busy. The Olympics were coming up and he was training so hard. Each time he came home he was even more tired than the day before and the day before that. So you just did what you always do, suck it up and keep your mouth shut.

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You were slipping. You felt it gradually happening. Not like the times before, when for the most part you didn't know what was happening. No this time you knew.

A week. That's all you could handle. Slipping up here and there, mentioning tiny details to your best friends. Until eventually you just wanted to scream on top of your lungs on the highest building you could find at that moment. Luckily one of your friends caught on and asked you out for a walk around the park.

The two of you talked for hours. Finally getting it off your chest. It felt like such a relief. You felt like the situation was under control again. Nothing wrong. A false alarm? Or maybe just in time before the damage was out of anyone control.

Another week passed. You absorbed yourself in work, house duties and watched some episodes of your favourite anime. You cherished the little time you could spend with Bokuto and loved the stories he would tell you about the team. Your best friend also checked in on you, because they were still worried about you even though you brushed them off saying all was well.

But that nasty tiny feeling inside you was still there. A little unconscious, but festering each day, oh so slowly.

It started with getting tired more often. You blamed it on work. But even on your days off, you would wake up feeling exhausted. You would be so drained even when you did nothing but watch TV or play games to pass the time.

The next thing that happened made you more aware of your situation. Your friend asked you to go out for a walk again. You guys talked, gave an update on what was bothering you but switched the topic to an update about your friend's life. While they were telling you about their life you noticed you weren't exactly paying attention. Your mind wandering off to nowhere, zoning out of the conversation. You felt bad. Your friend had been there for you, listening to all your problems and yet here you were not really paying attention to them.

The same goes for Bokuto. He would come home, ask you how your day was and continue with telling you about his. As much as you loved his stories about the antics of Hinata and Kageyama or the other players, you actually couldn't be bothered in the least. Responding with a 'really?', 'Oh yeah...', 'that's nice'.

Next came closing yourself off. You just wanted everything to get over with. Counting the minutes down for when you could finally go home from work and curl yourself in a blanket on the couch. When Bokuto came home you would usually be "too absorbed" in whatever was playing on the TV or you would already be in bed, blaming it on work or just being tired.

You started losing interest in all the things you liked. You couldn't occupy yourself anymore. The days became longer and longer. You started losing your appetite. Only eating when your body basically screamed for nutrition and even then you would sometimes ignore your own body's scream for food.

At some point, you were just so done. Not caring to force a smile on your face anymore. Plain up ignoring your friends when they texted you. And when Bokuto would come home. The lights would already be out and you would lay in bed with the covers over your head and your back facing him.

Usually, Bokuto picks up very fast on your moods and emotions. Having gone through his well famous emo modes when he was younger. The two of you were always open and honest with your feelings and emotion towards each other. It was something you guys as a couple prided yourselves on.

It was also something you especially needed. Having gone through horrible panic attacks, anxiety and depression. Talking yourself down was/is also something your very good at. And Bokuto picked up on that very quickly when you just started dating.

To some Bokuto seems very carefree and not aware of his surroundings. But in actuality, he's very emotionally intelligent. So he struck up a conversation you would've never guessed you'd have on one of your many dates. Bokuto eased you into it, told you about his emo modes and made you comfortable enough to let you open up about your experiences. This actually helped you go past the blockade that was stopping you from making this relationship official.

But with Bokuto training for the upcoming Olympics and him being away from home more often than not, it was easier to go unnoticed for him and easier for you to slip and fall into a deeper depression.

After weeks of walking around like a zombie, you finally broke down. You had a day off. When you woke up Bokuto was already gone. He texted you later that day saying he would sleep at the training centre because training would go on longer than normal.

It had been a beautiful day, the weather was nice, the sun had been shining, the warmth of summer started to peek through. It would have made you giddy had it not been for the nasty pest growing bigger and bigger inside you. When dusk came you felt it bubbling up. You tried really hard to ignore it. Tried to soothe it with some episodes of your comfort anime. Tried to pick yourself up and pamper yourself with some extra steps in your skincare routine but it was all in vain. Once you stepped inside your shared bedroom you felt the tears trickling down your face. Through your tears you searched for your earbuds, plugging them in and searching for the best sad songs playlist you could find. Shutting off the lights as you lay down in the middle of the bed.

At first, you just lay there, looking up at the ceiling, silent tears streaming down your temple, past your ears into your hair. You felt the tears slowly make their way past your scalp until they finally touched the soft pillow behind your head. You turned your head getting uncomfortable from the feeling of your tears. The pillow your head lay on smelled like him, it's smelled like everything you loved, comforted, his favourite shower gel, a hint of sweat, it smelled like warm sunbeams on an early summer morning, it smelled nice. This made you break down in sobs, which became louder the longer you went on. You stuffed your face in his pillow, threw the covers around you, trying to silence your sobs and screams. They were too loud for you, agonising pain shot through you. You felt alone. Spiralling deeper into a dark hole that was your mind.

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When Bokuto stepped inside your shared apartment he tried to be as silent as he could. The lights were out, a sign that you would probably be asleep already. While trying to get his shoes off Bokuto debated whether or not he should wake you up. He noticed you being unusually tired and sleeping earlier than you normally would. He looked at the clock hanging on the wall, 9.04 pm. A soft smile crossed his features. Maybe he was a bit selfish but he decided to wake you and tell you about his surprise day off coach gave the team. Shuffling around in the dark apartment trying not to bump into any furniture he neared the bedroom door.

The smile Bokuto had on his face disappeared in an instance. His heart dropped when he heard your muffled sobs. You sounded tired. As if you had been crying for a while now. Bokuto rested his head against the door, gripping the handle until his knuckles turned white. How could he not have noticed it before? Sure he was busy, but he always noticed when you started feeling down. Was he not paying attention to you? Had he been too absorbed in his own world? Why didn't you tell him anything? You guys told each other everything. What got you down like this so bad you wouldn't open up to anyone, not even him. But most of all, he was angry, angry at himself for letting it get this far.

But right now that wasn't important. What's most important is you. Without further hesitation Bokuto softly opened the door and stepped towards the bundled up form on the bed.

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You felt a cold rush of the air when your blankets lifted up from you. Goosebumps made their way onto your skin. But it wasn't long before you felt a comfortable warmth surround you. Nothing like the suffocating warmth from your blankets. Two strong arms held your body. You didn't have to look up to see who the arms belonged to.

No words were spoken between the two of you. You started sobbing a little louder again until you felt the soft vibrations of Bokuto humming. Taking your earbuds out you looked up at the man 'Kou..' you sniffle softly, but before you could continue Bokuto laid your head back on his chest and started petting your head 'It's okay now. I'm here. Let's just stay like this okay? We'll talk tomorrow' he gave your head a soft kiss before continuing humming again.

Tired from all the crying combined with the soft vibrations coming from Bokuto humming you closed your eyes. Your worries drifted away, tomorrow was another day. You would tell Bokuto everything. But for now, you felt content, safe in his arms. The bad feelings slowly subsiding for at this moment, he was your light, he was the warmth you were desperately searching for, he is your home.

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wallwriterstuff · 3 years

Text

The Good I Come Home To ||Leon S. Kennedy x Female!Reader|| Part 1

Warnings: Angsty, PTSD Leon being very jumpy and shell-shocked, mentions of sex.

Words: 3318

Summary: Originally posted to my Archive of Our Own Account.

Part 2 can be found here

Leon has kept it very casual with you for months, seemingly oblivious of the growing feelings you harbour. You have no idea just how badly it hurts him to leave you every time until he tries to cut you out of his life completely. You have other ideas. You just have to persuade Leon they're the right ones.

Leon S. Kennedy was a complicated man in many respects, but it was easy to unravel all those complex layers if you started looking at his core values, his sense of purpose. To serve, to protect. Leon was built to be the bodyguard of humanity, the first line of defence between unimaginable horror and the things he loved. Every experience had moulded him into this hard shell of a man, so far from the one people used to know. It had been interesting, really, to see an old friend from the Police Academy approach him and see just how different they had turned out. They both had the eyes of experience anybody in the force acquired over time, but Leon’s were sterner, like an unbreakable stone as opposed to ice you could chip away at and eventually shatter. This old friend of his had a small-town job and apple pie life. He had the white picket fence and the wife who kissed him when he came home to freshly made dinner. His children were doing well at school.

Leon had listened like his life was a whole other world away. It was visible in his eyes, though he carefully kept it off his face, that the comparison between each man actually disturbed him. You hadn’t meant to see of course. It was pure coincidence you’d happened to be in the supermarket, walking down that same aisle. His old friend had hit the barricade you so often hit when you asked. You’d stopped questioning it after a few months of back and forth and the looming threat of losing him became a dark and unbearable burden.

“So er, heard about the huge explosion at Raccoon. Where’d they place you after that?”

“Nowhere. I work for the government now.”

“Oh damn. FBI?”

“Something like that.”

His job was the complicated topic. Classified and bad enough to put a certain brand of darkness behind his eyes when you asked, it was best left untouched by your hands because it was hidden beneath the many layers of the man you’d only ever been allowed to scratch the surface of – literally and figuratively. Beyond his core values, the simplicity of Leon S. Kennedy lay in his needs. He was a flesh and blood man after all. He was guaranteed to need to eat, to do laundry, to shower, to relieve himself. These simple needs were what made him somewhat predictable to you. On his best days, when he text you days or hours before, you were almost guaranteed to be wined and dined. Okay so the wine and dine option was sometimes more like beer and take-out pizza but it was always paid for by him if you bought the alcohol.

When he was feeling a little less than okay, you’d get no outright statement of his desire to see you, but he’d hedge around the topic and wait for you to ask him, like he was afraid to be a nuisance. You’d only get this awkward and prompting behaviour from him an hour or two before he showed up which left you little time to prepare, but a quick shower was always on the cards. In his worst moments, he’d give no warning and simply show up at your house with smouldering eyes that demanded your attention and everything else you had to give him. God help you, you always gave him everything. As simple as his needs were, as his feelings on the matter appeared, yours were much more complicated. Leon S. Kennedy had made it clear from the start when he met you at the bar that fateful night, all chiselled jaw and playful eyes, that nothing serious was to come of this.

It had progressed to a proper agreement when you both seemed to just keep running into each other. You were free to date, if you so pleased, and he’d stop showing up. He’d be gone like dust in the wind, untraceable and impossible to bring back. You didn’t want that. Until the day either of you became tied down you had agreed you were exclusive. You sated each other only. It was hard to keep to that promise all the time when he was away for long periods, but you remained true to your word anyway, and that was how it had stayed for a solid eight months. Leon came back to a bed you kept free just for him and left in the morning like it was no more than a pit-stop on a long and winding road.

You suspected he wasn’t proud of it. You thought sometimes you could see something softer in his eyes, something that made you think he wished for something more than he was already giving you. There were moments his eyes lingered when he said goodbye, times his hands stayed on you a little longer than they usually did. On rare occasions, when he was just a bit too drunk after what you guessed was a bad job, you let him sleep it off with his arms around you and listened to the whimpers in his sleep with an aching heart. Leon consistently let you have his body, gave you the briefest glimpses at the big heart he held so carefully hidden away, but never once did he let you into his mind. As much as you loved being with him, you had never truly been with him at all. You’d never truly connected with him beyond anything physical. It pained you to know you never would. You cared for him too much. You saw the deep pain he carried with him everywhere, and you’d never be able to alleviate that load because he wouldn’t let you.

You had to pause the TV to be sure you’d actually heard anything at all, but when you heard the noise again it was stronger, bolder. Knocking. Glancing at the clock, you turned the TV off with a frown. There weren’t many people who would come knocking at this late hour, and you didn’t know if your heart was in it tonight to let him in when he would forever keep you out. As if on cue, when you opened the door to a dripping wet Leon, thunder rumbled and rattled the open window in the corridor of your apartment block. A small puddle of water had formed on the windowsill, dripping in as the harsh rain battered the glass. Leaving your door propped with the door stop you kept nearby for moments like these, you crossed to the window to close it and lock out the weather. You felt sullen enough without the storm clouds invading your house.

“Leon if you’re here to drink that’s okay but I’m not really up for-“ you cut yourself off, uncertain all of a sudden as to what it was he was here for. His needs were always so simple, the looks and actions associated with them something you had come to learn to recognise without much conscious thought. This was entirely new. Those piercing blue eyes were sullen, fighting between being as hard as sapphire and as soft as calm ocean waves. What was frightening was the depth of the ocean you saw. It was like staring into an abyss of torment. Red-ringed and with whisky on his breath, it didn’t take a genius to realise Leon had been crying and was in fairly bad shape. Hair soaked and plastered to his forehead, he stared at you through those horribly complex eyes, his mouth half open like he wanted to say something but couldn’t force the words out. He was pale, breaths even but heavy, like he had to physically remind himself to huff out each one.

Wordlessly, you took him by the hand. His skin was freezing to the touch and you guessed the faithful jacket had done little to keep the bitter cold from seeping into his exposed skin. Your theory was proven right when his cheeks were just as cold to the touch.

“I…” you thought he might say more but it was like watching a caveman learn to talk. There were only sounds, no words. He was usually very skilful with his tongue but tonight those talents were nowhere to be found. Pushing his jacket from his shoulders you hung it to dry over the back of your sofa, hoping the radiator would do its job and leave it toasty for him when he inevitably put it on to leave you again. You ignored the stinging in your chest at the thought. Leon didn’t need you to be petty right now. Truthfully, you were frightened. Leon’s carefully constructed composure had been shattered by something and you didn’t think you wanted to know what was strong enough to shatter this man’s rock hard exterior and cut him so deeply. He stood dumbly in your hallway, and you gently pushed him to the edge of the sofa to take off his shoes so they wouldn’t traipse water into your home.

“Shhh Leon, just come with me.” You coaxed him back onto socked feet, leading him down the hall to your bathroom.

“No…no Y/N I, I don’t…” he swallowed.

“Do you trust me Leon?” you asked him, keeping your voice gentle like you were cajoling a wild animal into eating from your palm. Leon nodded without question and you smiled slightly. “Then just follow for me now.” You kicked open your door and led him to the edge of the tub, grabbing a towel from the shelving units there and placing it on the sink.

“What are you doing?” he could barely speak above a whisper, looking confused and upset and lost all at once.

“I’m going to run you a nice hot bath before you catch your death. I don’t know how long you were in the rain for Leon but you’re frozen to the bone.” You said calmly, putting the plug in the tub and turning on the tap for the hot water. Leon didn’t answer, merely watched you with the eyes of a man so lost in trauma he couldn’t find his way back to the surface world and make sense of the happenings around him. While you waited for the water to turn steamy, you rubbed at his hair with the towel in your hand to dry it. You knew something was incredibly wrong when he let you mess it up like that. There were very few instances you were allowed to touch his hair and you had to always, always comb it back into place or suffer the consequences. Occasionally, you took a break to fill the tub with some of your prized bath oils. Lavender, camomile, jasmine, all your favourite scents from a beautiful kit a colleague had bought you as part of secret Santa last year.

He didn’t comment as the room filled with intoxicating, relaxing scents, nor when you checked the temperature again and told him he could get in when he was ready. He held the towel in both hands, staring at the cotton as if it might hold some answers.

“Thank you.” He mumbled. You nodded once.

“Have you eaten anything yet?” you asked him. He nodded once, but he didn’t meet your gaze. He was lying you were sure. “Okay. Take as long as you need in here, I’ll be about when you feel ready to see me alright?” you promised, leaning up to kiss his cheek softly. Your lips lingered a little too long, but Leon didn’t move away. He closed his eyes as if the contact was all he had wanted and more. As the door closed behind you you heard the soft, muffled sob he tried so hard to bury in the towel, and your heart broke a little more. Something had shattered Leon S. Kennedy and it didn’t sit well with you at all to see him this vulnerable. He needed the space right now to get his mind back in order but once he did, when he was ready to face you, you weren’t sure you’d get an explanation from him. He’d shut down every time you’d ever asked for one before.

He’d woken screaming one night, lashing out so violently that if you had been sat upright there’d have been no way to avoid his fist and he’d have knocked you out cold. When you tried to ask what was wrong, he’d simply snapped at you to leave him be and left your apartment so fast there could have been a fire under his ass. So, what did you do? Did you just not even try? He hadn’t made a move on you, had specifically said no when he saw you heading in the direction of the bedroom. But if he wasn’t here for sex what was he here for? It only added to your anxiety that you really had no clue what he wanted if it wasn’t your body he’d come for, and though part of you thought that should make you angry, another part of you hoped that that meant it was something more that he was after this time. The kind of more you wanted.

No. You had to try for him. You couldn’t let him go on like this. He didn’t have to fight the war in his head alone, not when you were here. At least, if he wanted to go it alone, he could have someone stable waiting with a safety net if he stumbled. For now you’d let him linger and soak in the tub, and you’d make the most out of the ingredients you had in the fridge. If he stayed, he could eat it off a plate. If he didn’t…well, you’d make some in a container in case. Pasta bake had always been your father’s speciality and it had been your favourite as a child, was still your comfort food now. Chicken and bacon sizzled, pasta boiled, and you grated the cheese to the rhythm of your favourite song playing softly on the radio while the milk and butter warmed on the stove. You snagged a piece of bacon from the wok and let the salty flavour burn your tongue.

With your masterpiece constructed and more cheese grated on top, you slid the dish into the oven for it to crisp up and set your timer, setting about washing the utensils next. It kept your hands busy, kept your mind from wandering too much, but even the sudsy water couldn’t quite keep your mind from ticking over. Why had Leon come here in the pouring rain? What had spooked him so badly he’d thought, in his less than coherent state, that he needed to be here in your apartment? Did the fact he’d come to you mean anything at all or did he just happen to be nearby? You put the saucepan a little harder than necessary into the rack when it slipped from your hands, jumping and cursing to yourself at the loud clang it had made.

“Y/N!” Leon almost roared your name in pure, abject terror. Eyes wide you rushed for the bathroom, hands still soapy and dripping water. He was already out of the bathtub, naked and scrambling through his jacket until he came up with a gun of all things, aimed right at you as you burst through the door. A shriek escaped you and you immediately dropped to the floor, hands above your head.

“Leon it’s me!” you begged. Harsh breathing filled the room.

“Where is it?” he demanded. You peeked up at him from below your arms, lowering them slowly. He was half-crouched, eyes wild and fixated on the door that led back to your room. He offered you a hand. “Come on, get up and get behind me, where is it?” he repeated the question more firmly now.

“Where’s what? Leon I – there’s only us here. I just dropped a saucepan.” You breathed. His expression faltered, confusion flooding his features first , then guilt, and finally grief. His eyes closed and he inhaled deeply, held it, exhaled slowly. He lowered his gun after a few more deep breaths.

“I’m sorry.” He said, looking a little like a kicked puppy. You shook your head, slowly pushing to your feet so as not to startle him. His skin was tinged pink, little suds clinging to the ends of his hair. The timer went off in the kitchen and Leon flinched again, hand tensing around the gun. You soothingly placed your hand on his arm.

“It’s just the timer. We’re the only people here Leon, nothing’s going to hurt us. How’s about you dry off and come have something to eat?” you suggested. He blanched at the mention of food and you frowned. “You don’t have to eat everything, just a little bit, you look really pale.” You reached for the towel and held it out to him until he reluctantly nodded and wrapped it around his waist. You left the door slightly ajar and headed for the kitchen to switch off the damn timer. He was so jumpy, so eager to jump to your defence. You plated up a small portion, not wanting to put him off with a large one. You didn’t feel particularly hungry yourself but you’d had a proper meal earlier in the evening, a cup of tea would suffice, camomile and honey would soothe your nerves. Leon had a liking for peppermint you knew. Maybe if he was nauseous that would help him eat? Tea and pasta bake served you sat opposite his place, one hand wrapped around the handle of your mug and the other pulled up to your mouth, your teeth nibbling the side of your nail.

“You’ll make your thumb sore.” He lingered in the doorway like he wasn’t sure if he should sit down or run away. You dropped your hand and placed a more welcoming smile on your lips, nodding to the plate.

“Chicken and bacon pasta bake. It’s good.” You invited. Hesitantly, Leon shuffled to the chair and sat down. You didn’t push him to talk. Months of being with Leon had assured you that pushing would only clam him up further, and you wanted to pry him open tonight. With a sinking feeling, you realised it might be the last night you ever saw him. He’d let himself be extremely vulnerable to you already and you weren’t the type of person to see this kind of trauma and let it go unchecked. You’d want to check in on him, you’d want to help him feel better, and Leon didn’t appreciate the questions you’d have to ask to get the kind of help he needed right. He sighed slightly, picking up the fork and taking a small bite. He looked physically sick for the first few mouthfuls, and you made an effort to distract him with small talk about the weather, your day and all its mundane happenings.

He seemed enraptured by your very voice, soaking in every syllable that crossed your lips and mindlessly working his arm and mouth to clear the plate and drain the mug in front of him.

“Can I have a bit more? It’s really good.” He surprised you with his request but you obliged him, spooning some more on his plate.

“If you’re that partial to it you can take some home to.” You said simply. He nodded once, clearing the second portion with ease and looking much better for it. The colour had returned to his cheeks and he looked a little more put together than before. You settled back in your chair, watched him clean his plate and put it in the drying rack. It was a courtesy you’d never have asked for but were grateful for nonetheless. He didn’t turn around though, keeping his back to you and tightening his grip on the countertop.

#resident evil #resident evil fanfiction #leon s kennedy #female reader #leon kennedy x female reader #angsty #tw ptsd #part 1

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forever-rogue · 3 years

Note

Hey there, could I please have #2 from your prompt. With it being Din's first, maybe having to either blindfold or blackout the room with the reader? Please and thank you!

2. Kiss

This prompt has me all kinds of soft and gentle and I love one Man(dalorian) so much!

The Mandalorian Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

A huff escaped your lips as you stared at the metal ceiling of the Crest. It was almost pitch black, with only a bit of light filtering in from the small crack in your door signaling that Din too was still awake as well.

Grabbing the scratchy blanket, you pulled it tighter around your body, wishing the chill would go away, but it was pervasive. No matter where you were on the ship or how many layers you wore or blankets you dragged into your small bed, you always felt cold. Rolling onto your side, you squeezed your eyes shut, willing your mind to settle and calm, finally letting you get some sleep. It had been...days since you’d had a good night’s sleep. Your body was desperate for it, and you were sure your mind wasn’t far behind.

But it never seemed to come; instead you spent countless hours lying in the dark staring into the blackness as you tried anything to sleep. To be fair, a lot had been on your mind lately, things you weren’t really sure how to address or even bring up in conversation without worrying about scaring Din off.

Instead you remained quiet, making up all sorts of scenarios in your mind of how the conversation could possibly go. Meanwhile in your waking hours...well your day to day hours, you’d been quiet, retreating more within yourself than you ever had. You didn’t think it was that obvious, prepared to use the guise of giving Din his space and not wanting to interfere with the Bounty Hunter’s work.

But it was fruitless. Din had just been as restless, often pacing around the hull of the Crest for hours after he thought you were fast asleep. There were at least a hundred things he wanted to say, and however he phrased them, he was sure they would scare you off. So he paced - and paced - and paced - and...

Wanting to tear your hair out, you almost jumped out of your small, hard bed and went to the small wardrobe you pulling out another sweater, one of Din’s hand-me-downs that still smelled like him despite having been washing numerous times and threw it on. If you were going to be awake, you might as well make use out of time or find something enjoyable to do.

Poking your head out of the door, you looked around and found the coast clear. Not that you were pointedly trying to avoid Din, you just didn’t need him to worry or fuss over anything. When it came to you and the green bean he was decidedly protective, sometimes almost too much so. But you didn’t mind, not really anyway; it was nice to know that someone was looking out for you.

Sighing lightly, you wished you could go and grab the little one and take him with you. But luckily, unlike his adopted father and yourself, sleep came easily to him. It was almost too much to watch him grow from an excited little blur to practically falling asleep as you held him in your arms. You were going to miss him so damn much when it came to actually giving him back to his people, whether that was the Jedi or more of his own species. But you weren’t going to think about that, not yet anyway. Instead you were going to focus on making every day with him count as much as possible.

And Din.

Once the little one was gone, there would be no use for you either. And then you’d part ways and...something. You hadn’t thought that far ahead. You’d just sort of...been going along with whatever life seemed throw in your way. You supposed you could go back to Sorgan or even Nevarro now that it was safe...maybe you could even link back up with Cobb Vanth and find something to do in Mos Pelgo. Whatever you would be forced to do, it would work out. You’d make friends in many places now, one of them would be able to help somehow.

Pulling yourself back into reality, you slowly, and as quietly as you could, lowered the ramp to the Crest and hopped out, almost stumbled over our own feet as you landed on the soft, grassy floor. You were smack in the middle of the forest, finding it a majestic place untouched by the hustle and bustle of the nearby city. It was calm here, peaceful - nothing but the soft chirping of insects and cooing of sleeping birds meeting your ears.

The sky was clear here, beautiful and giving you access to the millions of glittering stars that light pollution normally absorbed. Humming under your breath, you walked a few paces away from the ship, eventually finding a small log to sit on. You let a long, world weary sigh as you plopped your tired bones down.

You leaned back slightly looked up, naming as many stars as you could, picking out all the constellations that you were father had taught you about as a small child. But even that, so tranquil and all consuming, lost its fun after a little while.

Before you knew it, a few tears ran down your cheeks. You weren’t even sure when you had started crying, or when your thoughts had turned back to the Mandalorian and your son. But like all things in life, it all seemed to come back to them.

Sniffling quietly, you dabbed at your eyes, wishing that you would pull yourself together and get over it. You had to be strong, if not for them for yourself. But kriff. It was hard and there so many things you had left to say and if you didn’t you were positive you would -

“Mesh’la?” your heart jumped at the sound of Din’s voice. You had been so lost in your head you hadn’t hear him approach or anything. Swallowing thickly, you turned around to face him, offering him a small smile before turning away from that swearing gaze, “what are you doing out here? I thought I heard you leave.”

“Nothing,” it was neither the truth or a lie but it would suffice. He made a small sound in the back of his throat as he came over and sat down next to you, where you’d automatically made a spot for him, “couldn’t sleep.”

“You’re crying,” it wasn’t a question so much as a statement as he watched you closely, “what’s going on?”

“Nothing Din,” you swallowed the lump in your throat as you played with your hands in your lap, “just tired is all. Haven’t been able to sleep much lately and I think it’s getting to me.”

“Oh,” he said softly as you nodded. it was silent for a few beats as a sort of awkward tension hung between the two of you. Clearing his throat quietly, he shifted in his spot so he could turn and face you properly, “w-what’s been going on with you lately? Have I...have I done something?”

“What?” your neck almost snapped as you looked in his direction, giving him a confused expression, “Din, no, it’s nothing like that.”

“You’ve been quietly lately,” he pointed out and you realized you were most definitely not as sly as you thought you were, “you’ve been avoiding me...”

“I haven’t been...” your voice trailed off as you shrugged in defeat, neither confirming nor denying his accusations, “sorry.”

“Will you talk to me?”

“I’m scared,” you admitted, “I’m afraid that if I tell you what’s on my mind you’ll want nothing to do with me. And I’d rather just...have you this way than not at all.”

“Please don’t disappear, not again,” he said quietly as he hand slowly, hesitantly, reached for yours. You looked down at his much larger hand, this time not burdened by his leather gloves, but displaying warm, golden skin, “I’ve been...I’ve been wanting to tell you things too.”

“Oh?” you asked as you slowly put your hand closer to his, inch by inch, eventually letting your skin touch his, “what...what did you want to say?”

“I...” he stared at your entwined hands, admiring how small and soft yours looked in his; unmarred and unscarred, pure to the world unlike his which had done horrible things. But yet still, you’d never run from him, never spurned him for his past or judged him. You’d always cared for him with an open heart. You waited with baited breath as his touch sent shivers throughout your whole body, “I’m not always good with words.”

“Me neither,” you admitted with a small laugh, “obviously. But, Din...I...I’ve been thinking about this, all of this...how things are eventually going to change - come to an end. I don’t...I don’t know what I’m going to do when it’s my turn to leave you.”

“Who said you were leaving?” he seemed genuinely shocked as the helmet tilted to side and you were positive there was a look of confusion on his face. You looked up at him, opening and closing your a few times as you tried to decide on whether or not he was serious.

“I just...I came to work for you to help take care of the little one...once he’s home, you don’t need me anymore,” you pointed out as thought it was obvious, “I just, I figured I would have to leave too. Without him-”

“No,” he firmly, but gently, cut you off, “no, you’re not - no. it was never supposed to be like that. I thought you knew that...I thought you’d stay, I want you to stay.”

“You do?” your eyes widened as you met the black T of his visor. Tears were threatening to well up and spill over as he nodded lightly, “I didn’t think...me? Why me?”

“I told you I’m not always good with words,” he admitted with a small huff of laughter, “I’ve spoken more words to you in the time I’ve known you than I have probably in the last twenty years.”

“Din...”

“Maybe I can’t put it well into words, but maybe...may I show you?” he asked with a noticeable shake to his voice. You offered him the smallest and most heart melting smile as you nodded, “can you close your eyes?”

“Yes,” your eyebrows shot up for a second before you realized what was going on and you squeezed your eyes shut as tightly as possible. Your heart was beating so wildly, you were sure that he wildly you were positive he could hear it. Once he was sure you couldn’t see anything, he timidly reached up and released the latch for the helmet, pulling it off with a small hiss and setting it next to his feet. Your heart was surely about to burst when you realized that he trusted you with this; he trusted you fully and completely.

“I’ve never...I’ve never done this before,” his voice was small, nervous, as his hands found your face and gently traced over your features. He couldn’t believe was able to finally experience this, the simple act of seeing you with his own eyes, unobstructed by anything else; to touch you in such a gentle manner with his skin on yours. It was heaven; no - better than heaven.

“Din...”

“May I kiss you?” a small smile spread across your features as you gave him a gentle nod, placing your hands on wrists as you rubbed the delicate skin there.

And then he kissed you.

It was slow, almost achingly so at first, the way he barely brushed his lips over yours, in nothing more than a quick, gentle kiss.

But when your face lit up, eyes still closed, his heart melted and he knew he had to do it again. And so he did; each kiss become more heated and confident as he got his first taste of you. If it was up to him, he wouldn’t have stopped, never ever. He hadn’t realized just how much he needed to kiss, but now that he first taste he was hooked.

After what seemed like a small eternity, he pulled back and rested his forehead against yours. Sighing contently you sneaked a few more kisses before you reached up and touched over his features, just as he had done to you.

“You have a mustache,” you almost giggled as you traced over his lips and he made a small sound of amusement.

“Do you not like it?” he questioned, almost immediately wondering if he should get rid of it.

“No,” you admitted and he panicked lightly, “I love it. I bet it suits you perfectly. It tickles a little bit, but I like it.”

“Does that mean I can kiss you again?”

“Of course,” you beamed at him, “what color are your eyes?”

“Brown.”

“You hair?”

“Brown.”

“I bet you’re magical, Din Djarin,” you whispered, ghosting your lips over his, “maybe...maybe one day I’ll get to see, but until then, I’ll keep all of this in my mind, and my heart.”

“I promise,” he breathed you in gently, committing every bit of this to memory, “I promise one day you will see. But you have to promise me one thing first.”

“Anything.”

“Please don’t leave.”

“Never,” you promised, “never.”

#din djarin #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #star wars #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #soft hours start now and end never 🥺#okay but i actually like this one lol

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