#the person that he could grow into if he lets himself heal in a post red john world - a person that could be really truly happy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

polarisjisung · 1 month

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BITTERSWEET

synopsis: it's routine— you patch up his wounds and watch them heal, he salts your wounds but doesn't stick around long enough to watch them grow.

wc: 2.7k

pairings: jaemin × fem!reader

genre: angst, fluff

warnings: mentions of violence, blood, uses of petnames, reader ogles at jaemin for a little while, jaemin gives mixed signals but also not really?

notes: I was supposed to post this last week but the formatting was so off anyways happy renjun day, here's a jaemin fic?

even when he was battered, bruised and most probably broken, na jaemin stared up at you with those shiny eyes, almost iridescent under the moonlight.

you havent seen him in weeks.

you'd like to kick and scream and shout at him for ghosting you all this time, the possibilities of everything that could've happened to him, worrying you endlessly up until now.

you hate him for just showing up like this, out of the blue, you think, but his composure suggests that this isn't as big of a deal as you make it out to be—whether it was weeks or maybe even months later, na jaemin would always circle back to you

like always, there he is stood at your doorstep at an ungodly hour of the night, dripping blood all over the welcome mat that lays on your front porch, his usual carefree self

you know you'll be getting a long scolding from your mother about the kind of company you surround yourself with the next morning, before being forced to rub the stains out of said mat, but in this moment, you couldn't seem to care less

perhaps it's because you swear you've never seen anything prettier, even with cuts littered across his skin, and a swollen eye that would certainly discolour the next morning, he looks ethereal.

for a moment, your jaw hangs low and jaemin holds back a chuckle at the sight, though you wish he hadn't, before you slip to the side and let him in, shutting out the cold as he flings the door to a close behind him, finally turning to face you

jaemin however, had always basked in the warm feeling of admiration that came with your look, though it mostly fell straight through his heart and inflated his sky high ego instead, jaemin wonders how despite his cocky nature you seemed to welcome him all the same

there's an unfamiliar sweetness to his scent tonight, his clothes oozing with the smell of cologne and what any sane person could recognise as perfume— women's perfume.

suddenly you find it difficult to keep looking at his stupidly pretty face, almost feeling sick

admittedly tonight your eyes hold a deeper gloominess to them, bloodshot, because you're tired, he tries to convince himself, but he knows a lot of that redness comes from the purple painted splodges against his skin, the bruises that burn deep inside his being— a burning that seems negligible at the sight of you

"cute slippers" he whispers, the sight of your fluffy pink hello kitty slippers causing the heat to rush to your cheeks

the embarrassment fades just as quickly as it seemed to have taken over your entirety— jaemin had seen a lot worse of you "almost as cute as you" he adds

you brush over the topic like it means nothing, frankly it doesn't, like most things with jaemin

"judging by the state of you" you sigh, two hands on your hips as you look him up and down disappointedly, "you didn't win this fight" and jaemin reels back, far too animated for you to assume he's actually in any pain considering the offended expression he wears, but you know him far too well to fall for his, admittedly convincing, acts

"I won, actually" he says weaving his arms through the gaps between yours to pull you closer, letting then hang at your waist

"sure you did" you nod sarcastically but he only rolls his eyes, following you into the kitchen

he knows what it means when you hold out two mugs, specifically the ones you had hand painted on your trip to the park when you were 5, adorned with the same floral pattern in different colours, and a cheesy quote continued across the two cups— his eyes light up

"hot chocolate?"

and jaemin hates hot chocolate, until its made by you, the sweet, almost childish drink something he could only savour in the dim lighting of your living room

maybe it was because of that specific brand of crazy expensive hot chocolate you used, that tasted a little dark and sometimes too strong for your liking, or maybe, most probably it was the taste of nostalgia that would linger on his lips each and every time

all jaemin knows is he would find himself laughing at the moustache of marshmallow fluff that would undoubtedly form over your upper lip as you carefully dabbed against his wounds with the antiseptic you kept on hand, one reserved solely for him since he was allergic to the regular stuff

he nods, attempting to grin before pulling his lip between his teeth at the sharp pain that strikes across it—hissing.

you laugh, despite the dull ache that takes over your chest seeing him like this

flicking your head over to the sofa is all you can do, worried your voice would give way if you gave the instructions verbatim but jaemin seems to get the memo.

as he takes a seat on your mother's favourite buttoned yellow velvet loveseat— you choose not to read to far into his choice of sofa

you're fishing through the drawers of your freezer to find some ice to help his wounds but all you can find is a bag of dino nuggets and a bag of peas— you decide the dino nuggets have a larger surface area and would probably be a little more help as you emerge through the kitchen door, hoping you made the right choice

jaemin finds the faint look of contemplation on your face far too adorable to hide the smile that reaches his now coloured cheeks, one darker than the other owing to the bruise that blossoms over it

"here" you offer it out to him wrapped in a towel, having learnt from your mistakes the last time you'd accidentally given him freezer burn

"gonna make me do it all by myself doll?" you shoot a questioning look his way "I'm all ache-y"

contrast to his tough demeanor, jaemin looks up at you with a pout and a look of feigned innocence

"yeah? well you should've thought about that before landing yourself in this situation"

you're ready to turn a full 180 on your heels and walk away, until jaemin's fingers wrap around your wrist, bruised knuckles begging for some sympathy

"please?"

ultimately you give in. you knew you would the second he looked at you with those shiny big eyes. you didn't know how to say no, not to him

"fine."

"that's my girl" he beams up at you, you know better than to let his words replay in your mind, his girl, why did that sound so damn good?

as your press the towel to his cheek, the cool feeling against his burning hot skin makes him wince, though you're not sure who's in more pain considering the way you your heart threatens to leap out of your chest

"how many times do I have to tell you to be more careful huh jaemin" you sigh, rubbing circles against his warm skin in an attempt to comfort him, angry eyes latched onto the rough blood stained patches

"don't call me that" his voice drops an octave somehow louder than before despite coming in whispers

"what else shall I call you? is that not your name jaemin?"

his eyes almost flash over completely black as he huffs, "not to you it isn't" and you notice the slither of seriousness that remains unmasked beneath his playful tone— you wonder why jaemin makes no effort to hide the solemnity of his words

but that's who he had always been, hot and cold, difficult to read, even more so to understand, he was confusing at best and so like most things with jaemin, you'd decided putting much thought to it wasn't your best idea, you would only be breaking your own heart.

"oh I didn't know it was different for me" you place a band aid against his wound, reaching to treat the next, your tongue poking out from between your lips causing jaemin to suddenly smile, eyes unwavering from the soft pink skin of your lip

between nights spent in his lousy apartment, cooped up in the illusive comfort of his arms and days spent with tear stained cheeks at the thought of being some disposable little thing in his life, you can't help but find yourself unsure of your place in his life

the acidity rising in your throat should be enough of a reality check for you to know the answer to your question, but self awareness had never been your strong suit.

at times he made you feel like the only girl in the world, most times he made no effort to acknowledge your existence, because jaemin was a man of two extremes

when he cared, or at least seemed to, he did so with his whole heart, and when he didn't— well you couldn't have felt any more worthless

right now his speech is sweet, like his voice is honey and his words are sugar-coated, you're intoxicated by the way his deep cologne overwhelms your senses, making your best attempt to filter out the cheap feminine scent that seems to have blended itself into his

"you know it is doll, everything is different with you" his voice reduces further into deeper whispers, words that hit your mind and soul all at once, heartbeat sounding somewhere in the background as the words echo in your mind

you shake your head.

jaemin had always been adventurous with his words, he was bold to say the least, meaning you knew to take his words with a pinch of salt, or two— however many were necessary really.

drunk on what little love he gave you, you find a sudden dizziness overwhelm you— the good kind that makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside even if just for a moment.

honestly speaking, you know you'd believe anything that came out of his mouth— na jaemin could wake up one day and decide the sky was pink and the earth was flat and you'd take it as bible.

you suppose it's just integrated into your genetic coding or something, to be at his beck and call, to let the walls you build around yourself fall down every time, you would protect yourself from the whole world, but the harsh truth was, you couldn't protect yourself from him ,though you didn't mind all that much.

"one of these days I'll leave you at the door to rot" your eyes roll at his words in an attempt to return to the playful mood, and jaemin knows you would never, but the brief mention of the possibility still makes him gulp, sound resonating in his ears

"never" he whispers, suddenly his eyes are glossy and his grip on the warm mug begins to loosen, the thought of losing you never having been one to cross his mind until now, you however, seem as unbothered as before

similar to most things in life, jaemin took you for granted.

but that was the thing, you were unlike anyone, anything, any part of his life— you were special.

jaemin knew you meant a lot to him, it wasn't a secret he tried to hide, not that he was particularly good at expressing it either, but the way your hair falls over your face as you concentrate on patching up his injuries and your skin glows under the dim light has jaemin wondering just how much you mean to him.

jaemin decides you mean the most to him, more than anyone else.

as a man of habit, he wonders what that would mean for these habits of his that you hated oh so much. very little, most probably. he had you amongst a thousand other wrapped around his finger, cast under his spell, deeply infatuated with him but somehow playing with you felt the most special.

that was the problem, you were special to him and as much as he enjoyed playing with fire, jaemin had never thought he'd find himself getting burnt.

you don't realise the silence that befalls the room, nothing but the soft buzz of the fridge or the flicker of the soon to fuse kitchen light mixed with your soft breaths— he had noticed they grew louder as you became more exhausted, guilt beginning to settle somewhere in the pit of his stomach, knowing he was keeping you awake

he was always a little selfish when it came to you, he knew that

your eyes land on jaemin, his flooding with something you can only hope is a feeling of warmth— anything but his usual sudden switch up before he'd announce he was leaving, only for you to see him the next time he got himself like this, a couple nights into the next week most probably, a routine you can't say you had appreciated, nor condoned

most things with jaemin were like this, short lived, and bittersweet, although the bitter part seemed more overpowering at times

you can't help but hold onto the little slither of hope that tonight will be different

"hey doll" his free hand cups your cheek, forcing your noticeably distant eyes into his—but instead of the icy cold stare you expect, you're met with fire, his eyes burning with promise

"hmm?" your eyes lock, "what's up?"

"never stop nagging at me, please" he sucks in a harsh breath, hoping you'll say something to stop him from completely losing control of his words and spilling every thought he's ever held back when it came to you, a lot really

but you only take a sip of the warm drink in your mug, the tones of dark cocoa and the traces of coffee so distinct.

the white foam spreading across your lip as you now decide to tend to the gash beneath his eyebrow, though jaemin sees it as an excuse to take ahold of your face between his fingers, thumb tracing over your upper lip

"cute" your wide eyes make him chuckle, noticing a small speck of white still resting on your lip

"would you look at that, I missed a spot" you find yourself being pulled further into his lap, legs messily sprawled across the couch along with his, you don't mind however, his pink glossy lips the only thing on your mind

you'd like to let him ruin you, make you his puppet, blind you with his warmth and make you his and only his. even if you were his little plaything, it didn't matter, nothing mattered as long as you were his.

"and what are you going to do about it nana, hmm?"

you let your nose rest gently against his, soft vanilla scent mixing with the deep musky cologne jaemin wore, you wonder how it manages to last throughout the day considering your perfumes lasted all of 5 minutes, at best

"whatever you'd like doll, just say the word and I'll do it"

"you promise?"

jaemin nods, "I promise" and he holds you tight, because like all things good in life, jaemin knows one day, he'll lose you too

as you pout your lips at his, a knowing smile in his eyes , the first aid box is long forgotten behind you and your lips fall atop each other, like they'd always meant to.

you can't help but wonder how long jaemin will stick to this promise of his, forever you hope, though you know better.

especially when his hot cocoa flavoured kisses, like the true essence of jaemin, were so damn bittersweet.

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bones4thecats · 4 months

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Diasomnia with their Fae! Knight! S/O

Type of Writing: Poll Result Characters: Malleus Draconia, Lilia Vanrouge, Silver, and Sebek Zigvolt Name: Diasomnia with their Fae! Knight! S/O Original Poll Link: Here

A/N: I'm sorry that this took a while to post, I just finished with a larger thing with my family, so. But, anyways, I do hope you all enjoy this, and look out, on Sunday, January 7th, 2024, requests will open for an hour. I'll put out an announcement when it happens! Enjoy, my lil bubbles🫧

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

🐉 Okay, the entirety of Diasomnia is shocked

🐉 You were the personal guard of Malleus', being sent everywhere he went, and because of this situation pushed upon you both, conversations were the only thing keeping the atmosphere from fogging up with awkwardness

🐉 Malleus asked you about your home life, so hearing how you descended from a army-covered family of faes, he just smiled and chuckled as you told stories on how strong, yet dumb they were

🐉 He loves to watch you spar with Silver and Sebek, trying to help Lilia teach them, though, since you weren't used to being delicate when fighting, you nearly always ended up on the ground apologizing as you tried healing a small bruise of cut you gave them

🐉 Both you and Malleus have an understanding because of your roles, do not let your feelings overwhelm your jobs, since that could result in people using you against each other, seeing weakness

🐉 You definitely have had to deal with Leona, so while he tried threatening Malleus one day, you grabbed your sword and held it to his throat, making him stiffen and the rest of the group freeze with awkward facial expressions

🐉 You may be rough around the edges, but Malleus likes that about you, and if someone tried harming you, he'd have their heads, and you'd do the same for him, no doubt

🦇 He and you served together during the Human vs Fae war long ago

🦇 You were one of the higher-ranked army members during battle, and you two were known as the 'Blood-Bathers', but, despite how the humans you slayed viewed you both, you cared for one another with a ton of passion

🦇 When Lilia found Malleus' egg, you helped him raise the future-ruler, from helping him control his magic, to helping him gain information on fighting and the outside world, you were there just as much as Lilia was

🦇 Lilia also watched as you laughed when Malleus burned his bangs, just staring at you with a face frozen in betrayal and shock before tackling you and messing up your hair as Malleus laughed

🦇 You may be a knight, but you had just as much of a sense of humor as your husband, from dad-jokes to puns, you both slayed people with them

🦇 Your husband loves to watch you get along with Silver, treating him like your own despite you both knowing he wasn't, and watching you train with him made Lilia feel like his whole life and the reason he survived everything from his past was just to be here, watching you and his family grow

🦇 Lilia also loves to spar with you himself, and watching the three boy's faces all erupt with sparkles and admiration to the two of you, watching as you battled, it was like you were in a dance, flowing together like the soulmates you were

⚔️ Silver met you because of your chosen occupations, being a knight

⚔️ He loves to train with you, watching you hold your sword in your hands was amazing to him, and seeing how you flowed with the weapon like you were one was amazing to him

⚔️ This guy absolutely refuses to give up on your relationship, despite knowing you were going to outlive him, since he was a human with a limited lifespan, while you were a fae with a limitless one

⚔️ Many see you guys as the sleepy soulmates, as after doing literally anything, you guys would rest underneath a tree with animals surrounding you

⚔️ You are a very good fighter, one that even puts Lilia in the need for effort when sparring, and your boyfriend loves seeing how his adoptive father smiles and pats your head with such care when your able to knock him off his feet

⚔️ Silver will try staying up and watch you help train new first years with their magic, but, unsurprisingly, he falls asleep, prompting you to carry him like a princess back to your dorm-rooms

⚔️ Being a knight, you wake up early, and since your lovely boyfriend here has many sleeping issues, he pins you down and makes you sleep longer than normal

⚔️ Malleus, Lilia, and Sebek all love watching Silver hug you from behind and rest while you glare at those who call him pathetic and a disgrace to the dorm for being human, you really were meant for him, huh?

⚡ Sebek was nervous when he first met you

⚡ You were a very well-respected knight within Briar Valley's army, so, being a trainee and you being quite popular among your peers, it made him feel lesser, and he hates that

⚡ He watched as you stood beside Malleus, sending threatening glares to others who dared try harming him, verbally or physically

⚡ Unlike Sebek, you did not express your emotions as passionately, and, funnily enough, that was what got you interested in him, as not many of your fellow knights knew how to express themselves very well

⚡ He gets flustered every time you pinned him down, as you smirked and would tease him with your fangs showing

⚡ You teased others like Lilia, but, you only showed your real emotions to those you cared for, and for Sebek, you showed everything you felt to him

⚡ For some reason, every time he watches you grit your teeth with your fangs showing, he feels ashamed of himself, since he was a half-human, half-fae, while you were a pureblood

⚡ Due to this, you comfort him when he feels weaker than others. He may be a half-blood, but, as you tell him

" I love you for you, not for your percentage of fae-blood. You are an amazing being, loud, but amazing... and I love you for that, Sebek. "

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sweet-as-an-angel · 1 year

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cuddling with könig hcs?? maybe he’s super exhausted and just wants to be held by reader and be in their presence 🥺

Modern Warfare 2 Cuddling Headcanons

Warnings: No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You’, Just a whole lot of fluff ☹️ <3, Mild Hurt/Comfort, CUDDLING !1!!1, Snuggling, Extremely Vague Implications of Ghost’s Past, Minor Mentions of Death, Vague Implications of Smut, Mention of a Boner (Brief), Nothing Explicit in this Post.

Ghost

He’s very secretive when letting you know he wants to be held.

It’s as if he’s ashamed to admit it, to you, to himself – as if the habits he’d picked up as a child, to hide his intentions, his feelings, had followed him into adulthood.

They had, make no mistake. But the fact that they followed him into his relationship with you made things… difficult at times.

Nevertheless, when he sidled up behind you, his body heavy, shoulders slumped and arms encompassing your form, you read him like a cave drawing: plain to see, easier to interpret.

You’d swaddle him in your arms, your duvets, your love, and in turn he’d cage you with his limbs, his body, his strength.

In a way, he was your coffin; your final resting place in life and the hereafter, and he let you know as much with the cushioning of his muscles beneath his shirt, the silken padding of your bed of eternal rest.

You’re not going anywhere is what he said, all without saying it.

And you affirmed as much when you pressed the tip of your nose to the pulsepoint below his jaw, gifting a kiss to the skin beneath it.

“I’ll always be with you, Simon; for infinity plus one,” you’d tell him, over and over, as many times as he wanted – needed – to hear it.

Simon would look down at you, his eyes dark and filled with nothing but the need for you.

He’d pull you into his chest, where you’d hear his heart pounding, hammering, the scaffolding of his love, constantly growing, advancing. Heightening.

“I know, Angel,” he says, laying circles into your back. “And I’ll always be here to protect you. Just as you have me.” He takes a deep breath, filling himself with your scent. “For infinity plus two.”

König

Oh, THIS–

Absolute behemoth of a man is babey for cuddles.

Fr though, he’ll just be so mentally, emotionally, and physically exhausted that the only thing that can heal him is your loving touch.

He’ll literally stand half-hidden behind the doorway like that buff teddy bear meme, looking at you with wide, pleading eyes with his hands like 👉👈.

Poor guy looks like he’s on the verge of tears.

He’s not, don’t worry! That’s just the fatigue catching up with him.

And whenever he gives you those eyes, you just can’t say no.

You bring him to bed and wrap him up in your softest, warmest blankets.

You have found König wrapped up in your clothes, your towels, your curtains many times before. And, after he caught you catching him, he admitted that he did it because they smelled like you.

From then on, you have a special, secret blanket just for König which you douse in your signature scent once every few weeks or so, keeping it hidden in a cupboard where it can’t be found by any other smell or person.

And you drape it over König, making sure he’s safe and snuggled and secure before you cuddle up to him, consumed by a mass of blankets and, of course, your boyfriend.

And he just rests there, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you so close to him that you could very well be the same person.

He’s massive, he’s radiating heat constantly, encompassing you in himself.

He tries burying you inside him, it seems, keeping you so close to him as though he knew something – knew he was going to lose you somehow.

And all the while, you’re threading your fingers through his hair, petting it, stroking it, telling him how loved he is, how you’ll always be here for him, and how lucky you are to have him. Calling him your “Big boy. My big, sweet boy,”

His chest purrs, his grip around you tightens, braiding your souls together with the golden hair of a wedding band.

And, his face buried in your hair, taking in the lifeline that is your scent, König whispers, to you, and to no-one else:

“Not as fortunate as I, my Love.”

Alejandro

Unlike Ghost and König, Alejandro tells you when he wants cuddles.

Unless he’s feeling particularly raw or traumatised, what with his profession and all, in which case he’ll put his hand atop yours and squeeze it, tightly, while facing ahead, not looking at you.

Those requests for cuddles are few and far between, but they usually lead to an evening spent entirely in Alejandro’s arms as he slowly, tricklingly, reveals what has damaged him so.

And you listen, and listen, and listen, one hand carding through his hair, the other holding his shaking shoulders, soothing him with your massages.

His head always rests on your chest, and, occasionally, he’ll bear his face into your shirt, pressing his confessions into the fabric.

“Oh, Darling,” you tell him, every time. “You do everything you can, you save lives every day – including mine.”

He pulls away, looks up into your eyes with dark glass irises and, every time, cups your cheek with his hand.

“And I always will, mi Amor,” he tells you. His kiss lands on your lips, and another confession slips out as he pulls away, his forehead resting against your chin.

“No matter the cost, no matter the toll, I will always find you. I will always save you, just as you saved me.”

Soap

Snuggles with Johnny usually end up culminating in…something else.

His sunny disposition, even after a heavy mission away, belies that which haunts him – that which he tries to suppress.

On the rare occasion that he’s not in high spirits, he’ll be very quiet, hardly talking at all as he merely exists around you, his warmth and humour devoid from his body.

And you seek him out, placing your head upon his shoulder and asking, in the slightest of voices: “Do you need me?”

He does.

He needs you more than anything else – anyone else.

You drape him with your body, slipping your arms around his shoulders and pulling his face into the crook of your neck. His breath, his stubble, tickles your skin.

You latch onto him, tumourous in your resolve yet anything but malignant in your aim.

You want to bury your love in his veins, let him feel how he makes you feel, and become that for him.

He always sighs into your shoulder, your neck, and takes a second before he’ll encapsulate you in his arms, keeping you in his lap and tethering you to him by the bottom of your back.

You chant your reassurances, whispering them into his ear – a sleeper agent’s trigger words; a message to bring forth the soldier from within.

“You did so well, Johnny,” you tell him, meaning every word. “There’s no sum of money in all the universe that can compensate for all that you’ve done.”

You feel Johnny twitch, a precursor to something familiar to you. You hold him tighter, pull him closer. He stuffs his face further into the material of your shirt.

“But…” The word is a dagger between the folds of your heart. You can only imagine how it feels lodged in Johnny’s mind. A lifelong migraine.

“But what if I’d gotten there sooner?” His voice cracks. You feel his shoulders shake. You try to stabilise him, to keep him from quivering by encompassing more of his broad frame.

“You couldn’t have known, John-John; I promise you that.”

Your word was gospel in this house; whatever you said, Johnny believed.

“And even if by some sort of miracle you had gotten there earlier,” you pull back, Johnny reluctantly following in your example, and take his face in your hands. You wipe a tear away with your thumb.

“You probably wouldn’t have been able to return.”

The prospect made your heart jump up into your throat, much as you could see it stir something in Johnny.

He nestles further into you.

“And what would I do without my favourite soldier?”

You feel Johnny sigh, his body untensing, sinking into yours.

“The real question is what would I do without you?” His voice is gruff, easing off into what you recognise as exhaustion.

You rubbed his back, pressed a kiss to the crook of his neck.

“We’ll never know,” you told him, smiling. You feel his cheek shift against your skin and you knew he was smiling, too.

“Let’s get you to bed. You deserve a rest.”

“Oh?” says Johnny. “Is that all?”

“Oh, behave,” you give him a chuckle, a light pat - a lacklustre attempt at a smack.

Like I said, cuddles with Johnny usually end up as something more.

Price

Absolute bear of a man in both disposition and habit.

Practically holds you hostage when you cuddle with how he has a log of a leg hooked over your waist, his arms pulling you so close to his chest that you may well be the shirt he’s wearing.

Loves whispering in your ear when you’re like this – tells you how much he loves you, how you make everything feel okay when he comes home from a mission; all the wonderful things he thinks of you, he tells you.

He knows life’s far too short to let certain things go unsaid, and his undying love for you is one of them.

Whenever he’s feeling exhausted or just done with it all, he comes up behind you and wraps his arms across your front from behind, pressing a long, humming kiss to the back of your head.

“I need you, Love,” he’ll say, voice laced with the primal need to just rest. And he can’t do that if you’re not with him.

He has a sensitive scalp, which is why he always wears the hat when he’s on missions. When he’s alone with you, however, he bids you a silent request to touch him, feel him, care for him.

And you do; you rest his head upon your chest and slip silken fingers between his short strands, making sure to drag your nails up the nape of his neck and send shivers through him.

He adores falling asleep on you like this, though he will apologise for it after, knowing how much heavier he is than you.

But you never complain, only indulge him as he subjects himself to this heaven-sent cycle again and again.

He calls you his “angel”, his “master’s masterpiece.” (nice Duchess of Malfi reference for my fellow literature enjoyers)

And he truly believes it – that you are the work of some higher being, too perfect for the likes of this world, of him.

You always tell him how lucky you are to have found him, half jestful as you reassure him how “Eternal life would simply be survival, not living, if it is without you, my Love.”

Gaz

Has to be facing you whenever you cuddle.

This is not up for negotiation.

Will stare into your eyes like 🥺 whenever you’re snuggling.

He LOVES holding your hands; he brings them to his chest and presses the flat of your palms to his skin.

And when you hear his heart beating, he gives a shy smile and says: “This heart beats only for you.”

“So…what you’re saying is that you’re dead all the time except for when you’re with me?”

“...That’s… a little less romantic than my ‘I’m only alive when I’m with you’ line, but yeah, you’re right.”

Initiates cuddles 99.99% of the time, only because he won’t let you have the chance to initiate them first.

Beats you to it every single time.

Most of the time when he initiates, he’s rather playful and just wants to feel you near him and tell you what he did today :-).

But sometimes, very occasionally, he’ll come to you, a wounded puppy of a man, with a story.

It is one with no happy ending, only a wish for reprievement.

Whenever and wherever Gaz needs you, you’re there, soaking up his anxieties as your own and trying to find a solution.

You usually just let him talk until he’s tired himself out or there’s nothing left to say, upon which you offer yourself and every conceivable way you could be of service.

You try to heal him however you can, bringing him food, making sure he rests, talking him through his feeling whenever he wants.

“I don’t know how you do it, Love,” he tells you, head lolling against the backrest of the sofa. “I don’t know how you’re always so calm, so collected,”

You offer him a smile and a plate of warm, freshly-baked biscuits.

“Time and practice, my Dear,” you tell him.

He feels bad for putting on you, but you always chase his worries away, reassuring him that the day you stop listening to him is the day you’ve been replaced with a robot.

When you cuddle and he’s feeling vulnerable, he’ll tuck his head into your chest, and you wrap him up in a blanket, blocking out the light – any form of external stimulation – to help him calm down or drift off to sleep.

He genuinely doesn’t know what he’d do without you.

And he tells you as much when he wakes up in your arms.

He presses butterfly kisses to your jaw until your eyes flutter open like wings.

He doesn’t even say ‘good morning’; he wastes no time when it comes to you.

“I love you, (Y/N),” he says. He squeezes you. “I don’t want to be without you – not like I used to be,”

And you smile at him, like you always do, and lean in, planting a kiss between his eyes, the top of the bridge of his nose.

“Neither do I, Love,” you say. “And you never will be.”

Valeria

Always the big spoon.

Regardless of how she’s feeling, how tall you are, what time of the day it is, she is always going to be the one administering the cuddles.

She uses you as something of a stress ball when she’s feeling antsy, anxious, or even fearful.

It’s extremely rare for her to verbalise her feelings - particularly the negative ones, the ones she perceives as ‘weakness’.

But she has placed all her trust in you; something people have died trying to take and protect.

Whenever she’s stressed, you can feel it in how rigid her shoulders are, how tightly she wraps herself around you, how her heart pounds against your back.

You never draw attention to it – you know how sensitive Valeria gets about her feelings, trying to hide them constantly, so you just hold her hands in yours, against your chest, drawing circles against her knuckles and her veins, writing a love story.

“I’ll never let you go, you know,” Valeria says, often enough that it is no longer a cause for concern for you, rather a future upon which you rely, look forward to. And you smile, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand so she can feel it. Her heart stutters.

“I’ll kill anyone who tries to take you from me.”

And she means it.

You know – you can tell in the way she pulls you ever closer, tightly packed together as if confined to the same coffin.

You know her – her lifestyle – will be your downfall, one way or another.

Whether you or she dies first is a mystery, but regardless of the outcome, you know Valeria would sacrifice everything of herself to keep it from becoming so.

You try to turn, but Valeria keeps you facing away.

A moment’s confusion passes, chased away by realisation as you feel Valeria shaking against you, something wet and warm dripping onto the back of your neck.

You cast your eyes down and, gently, bring Valeria’s knuckles back to your lips.

“And what about me?” you say. “What if I leave you? Will you kill me?”

Something crosses Valeria’s eyes, dancing behind them. A relative of hurt, a friend of doubt, a parent of fear.

She turns you onto your back and, bringing a hand to your cheek and cupping it, presses her lips to yours.

It is soft and minimal, lasting a fraction of what it wanted to.

Valeria withdraws, pressing her forehead to yours, her eyes piercing.

“Never.” She says.

And she means it.

Rodolfo

Hold him tight P L E A S E–

He lives for your embrace, and anything you offer him will remain Flex Taped to the back of his mind for the rest of his life.

Especially if you’re consoling him.

Man just wants to feel safe and warm and loved.

His absolute favourite position is when you’re wrapped in each other’s arms, heads upon the other’s shoulder, snuggled so impossibly close that Rodolfo’s blood is practically running through your veins.

Call him your “Sweet lil’ guy” and he’s g o n e.

Melts into your touch and inhales your scent; oxygen to the lungs of a man starved of reprieve.

It’s at times like these when he’s at his most sincere.

Will tell you anything and everything that crosses his mind; his hopes, his dreams, his fears.

And you’re always there to chase away his anxieties and nurture his desire to achieve all that he wants to achieve.

Sometimes, when he pulls away, there are tears in his eyes, glistening.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you, mi Vida,” he whispers, as if he’s afraid that the Universe will hear him and take you from him.

You can only smile, feeling the urge to cry choke your throat.

“And you’ll never need to know,” you tell him. “There will never be a day where I won’t be with you–” you kiss the tears running down his cheeks, “whether my body persists in this realm or not.”

Graves

UUUUUUGH

Horny to the MAX

You could be having the most wholesome conversation in the world and Phil will just hit you with the bedroom eyes and a boner and you’ll just look at him like 😑.

Whether or not you oblige him is up to you, but he’ll likely pester you (politely) until you do.

Aside from that, however, Graves doesn’t seem the type to know how to cuddle properly.

You see, there’s an art to the cuddle - it is a craft.

And Graves has only ever had brief encounters with people under the cover of night; flings, one night stands – so he’s never had the pleasure of getting to know someone enough to cuddle them.

So that makes you his first 😃 !!!

Since you have his cuddle virginity in your hands, you’re going to have to ease him into it.

He’ll definitely whine at first – keep saying stuff like “It’s too hot,” or “I’m booored,” but eventually, you’ll find a position for him which he seems to like.

Loves being the little spoon. No argument.

Given how he’s a CEO and has a pretty hectic job, he enjoys a change in position and likes giving you the power (though he’d never frame it as that; he’d just say that he’s being your pillow so you can lean against something as you rest; ever the gentleman he is).

His favourite position is you behind him, your leg wrapped around his waist, keeping him pinned to the bed.

Pleeeease scratch his back for him, he’s really ticklish there and has never been touched so softly before.

If you whisper phrases of affirmation or praise into his ear, he’s dead.

Done for.

Not coming back.

He swears he falls deeper in love with you every time you hold him close.

He’s kind of a switch, so he’s definitely up for being the big spoon on occasion – especially if you’re feeling vulnerable or you want to be protected.

When he thinks you’re asleep, he leans in close to your ear and says something he’s never said to anyone before.

“I love you.”

Unbeknownst to him, you’re awake, trying to contain the excitement bursting from your chest as you resist the urge to turn around and lock him in your embrace, if only to spare him the embarrassment of one of the few times he expresses his emotions being sullied by you breaking his nose with yours as you launch at him for a kiss.

In another cuddle session, maybe a day or two later, you whisper to him: “I love you, too.”

He’ll be mortified, and you may or may not be able to see his face shift from that of a cosy cat to a tiger who’s just inhaled a lemon. Frightened and unsuspecting.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad

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partycatty · 4 months

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dilf!johnny cage > to heal

how it goes when reader dates older johnny following the loss of sonya

warnings: grief, age gap, mentions of sex but no smut written

notes: i want to gnaw on dilf johnny until he is nothing but bones. it is for that reason that this post is LONG. yappasaurus rex over here.

masterlist <3

•first of all mk11 was so bad at covering the grief of a man losing the mother of his child

•then again that also implicates that johnny is really, really good at hiding his emotions, especially around the people he's meant to be stoic around. i wouldn't necessarily cry in front of a thunder god or cryomancer either. and i'd try to keep it together for my kid.

•regardless, johnny falls into a deep, DEEP depression that eats away at him. he should have been there on that mission. he should've canceled that ninja mime shooting and spent one more day with his family before it was completely wrecked. and he'll tell himself this every time he looks at cassie's empty eyes. he stays sober, for her, but god does he wish he could just feel nothing sometimes.

•johnny stays smiles and jokes, but as soon as he closes the door to his sleeping quarters, all he can do is blankly stare ahead. damn him and his acting skills. he wants people to check up on him, but it's just so... hard to express his pain.

•some time passes and he considers himself recovered, but every time he sees his daughter excel in training or lips smile in the way sonya's did... god.

•imagine his surprise when his own daughter asks him to get back into the dating scene. cassie says something along the lines of "you're a sad old fart that needs a woman to get him off of the couch."

•cassie's right, unfortunately. johnny let his stubble grow in and hair grow increasingly wild. he didn't carry himself as well as he once did, which was especially worrying to those who saw him as the confident, sharp, charismatic character.

•johnny declines to his daughter, finding the conversation kind of off-putting. but, on a late tuesday, he decides "fuck it" and sets up a bumble profile while sitting on the classic leather dad recliner in the living room. the one thing he forgot to do? set an age range.

•so he's a little taken aback when a 29 year old you is the third person he swiped to. instinctively, he thought to swipe left on you, but curiosity got the better of him. he read your profile and realized you sounded incredibly mature and had the same interests as him. covering his mouth and holding his phone with the other, he swipes... right, feeling an immediate intense guilt.

•he doubted you'd match with him, but as soon as he swipes, a big "IT'S A MATCH!" covers his phone screen and he lets out an audible gasp, tightening his grip on his face. he then gets a twinge of embarrassment for himself. was he seriously flipping his shit over his first match on a mobile dating app? yes.

•johnny spends a good long while staring at the screen, wondering if you'd even message him. after all, men couldn't message first on the app. what if she thinks he's too old? what if it was an accidental swipe? what if...

•NEW MESSAGE! "hiii :)" johnny swallows, afraid to open the message. what would he say? what should he say? does bumble have read receipts? would you notice he opened your message and stared for several minutes?

•he settles on "hello, how are you?" it's been a while since he's had to genuinely flirt with interest, so he opens cordially. johnny was a charmer for sure, but this time he was playing for keeps, not just for fun. he also, unlike his younger version he met some time ago, wants to take his time.

•you two chat back and forth, and while you acknowledge to him that he is indeed a celebrity (and how hilariously stupid it was that he was on a public dating site), you express no real concern over it. you mention to him that you want to see him as a man and not a character. the deeper conversation of dealing with the spotlight could come another time, as johnny didn't want to scare you away.

•you two text for a lot longer than most matches on bumble. johnny's honestly terrified of meeting up in person. he wants to be so incredibly sure that it's you he wants to meet up with. he forgot to keep swiping, even. he was so fixated on getting to know you. he felt weird talking to multiple women on the app, since he was so used to married life.

•he can't bring himself to ask you on a real date, so you two settle on a friendly coffee chat. he shaves, gets a trim, and for the first time in a long time, stresses about wearing the right things. he even calls cassie and asks if he should wear shirt A or shirt B, but was very keen on redacting your age from the conversation. that was something he was afraid to disclose to her.

•what was this man so afraid of?? you are a SWEETHEART. you're so incredibly mature, have more "vintage" interests and asked so many questions, leaning in to listen. johnny didn't feel the need to perform, in fact, he found himself... with butterflies. he death-gripped his coffee to hide the fact that his fingers were trembling.

•one coffee chat turns into two, and then three, four, and eventually, he feels okay enough to plan a real date. his heart was swelling with excitement, a new warmth in his chest. you were so effortlessly patient and kind with him, never asking for anything of him besides his time.

•he plans a dinner date, squeezing you two into a lavish restaurant that he wouldn't have been able to get into if he wasn't a celebrity. he didn't want to overwhelm you with his money and fame, but god did he want to do this right. even though the topic of money was something you never thought to consider with him, he still wanted to show off at least a little bit. it's just in his character!

•there, he starts to come out of his shell a bit more. he starts flirting back, and you two hold hands across the table, intense eye contact as you converse freely.

•johnny takes a sip of his drink, looking down. but when he looks back up, he notices you admiring him with your sweet young eyes. and it's here that he realizes just how much you've revitalized him. he springs out of bed with a smile. you're the last thought in his mind before he falls asleep. when he is with cassie, he can't stop thinking about how much you two would get along.

•which, by the way, johnny is so incredibly sure to remind you that he has a daughter that's your age. you pause and think, trying to articulate your thoughts on the awkward circumstance.

•"i understand that it may be a little uncomfortable for her and the last thing i want is to drive a wedge between you and your daughter. you speak highly of her and i deeply admire that. i perfectly understand that she comes before me."

•johnny stops himself from tearing up. you're... just so kind. you're perfect.

•after the ninth date, he decides that he's ready to go back to your place. it's a quaint apartment, and it's there that you both make the conscious decision to have sex.

•it's slow and sweet, he's murmuring praises into your bare skin as he takes his time exploring a new body. older johnny takes his time with sex unlike his younger days. he needs to appreciate your beauty, complimenting every feature on your body. you're so divine.

•"such a pretty girl..." he whisper-groans above you, strong hands holding your hips in place with a passionate firmness.

•over the next couple months, he's still working toward officially calling you his girlfriend. a new partner in his life scares him, even if you make all of that tension disappear when you're around. it's just a lot to ask of a man to take that new step again.

•biting the bullet, he asks you at your doorstep holding a cheesily large bouquet, having to glance over it to get a proper look at you. you smile sweetly, nodding and immediately accepting in that gentle voice. you knew how much this meant to him to make things official.

•cassie eventually gets the chance to meet you, as her father brings you along to a holiday party with the family. it's... it's a little weird, she won't lie. i mean, it's just weird in general to see your dad with someone that isn't your mom. that's something that naturally needs time to adjust to. and your age isn't something she can avoid discussing.

•she doesn't hate you. she actually finds you quite enjoyable to be around! she's just a little uneasy that you're her age. but, after a long, long talk full of tears and reassuring words, cassie realizes she can learn to accept you being with her dad. i mean, she sees what you do to him.

•that sparkle in his puppy-dog brown eyes is back, and he just can't stop being engulfed by your presence. a hand is always on the small of your back, a grin always plastered on his face, and eyes are always locked onto you when you're doing the most mundane of tasks. he's chirpier, and people even joke that he seems as active as he was in his younger years. you got the old man's rusty gears turnin'!

•he loves you. he didn't realize he could do that again.

#mortal kombat x reader #johnny cage #mortal kombat #johnny cage x reader #johnny cage mk11

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aphroditesbaby1616 · 1 month

Text

Balessan - (c.b. oneshot)

♡ O.S Inspo: Balessan ; Also known as: Poplar Buds, Balsam Poplar, Balm of Gilead, Mecca, Mecca Balsam, & Bechan - This Magickal herb can be used to bring forth; Love, manifestations, protection, healing, de-stressing, and assisting in healing from the loss of a loved one. Use in love sachets; carry for healing, protection, and mending a broken heart.

♡ Summary: This amazing, big brained, fabulous & wonderful request is inspired from this ask from my beautiful flower @daysofyellowroses - Thank you my love. -- In this O/S You & Carmy spend a day with his nephew at the park!

♡ W/C: 4,200

♡ Posted Date: 03/19/2024

♡ A/N: Aaaa! look at me pumpin' these one shots out like hot cakes!!! Get your requests in folks I have a long weekend ahead hahaha!! This was BEYOND fun to write, thank you so much again Rose for such an amazing request. I hope it's everything you imagined!! I lovee love love writing mushy happy Carmy, he deserves all the love in his life!! I totally see him being the pushover uncle just like this, Happy Meals & Ice Cream for daysss!!! <3

♡ Warnings for BTC: NONE!!! Well... carmy smokes a cigarette at the end? That's all hahah - ***NO USE OF Y/N - AS LITTLE PHYSICAL DESCRIP. AS POSSIBLE - READER IS CALLED 'BLOSSOM' IN THIS O/S :)***

➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡

Carmen had never felt true love before. He didn’t think he’d ever know what that felt like. He’d heard stories of parents meeting their newborn babies for the first time, saying that ‘it was an indescribable feeling of holding the entire world in the palm of your hands.’ And that to him, sounded like bullshit.

It was sweet and all, but considering the way his mother and father treated he and his siblings growing up- that moment was fleeting at the very least.

That was what he’d thought, until that is- he got the call that would change his life, forever.

Sugar and Pete had kept the gender of their baby a secret, Carmy was very excited for them, and though Pete wasn’t his favorite person- he knew in his heart he’d be a great dad. Better then he could ever do at least, so that had eased his mind for the new blood of his family.

Pete had called to inform him that Sugar had given birth, finally, he thought to himself. He didn’t realize that the labor process could take days. Sugar had went into the hospital on Tuesday, in the early afternoon when her water had broken- it was now 4 pm Thursday evening. It was about time for the kid to make an appearance.

He’d made his way down to the hospital right away, no questions asked. It was Sugar after all, and after Pete had told him she wasn’t having any visitors, but had requested that he specifically come see her- he wasn’t gonna let her down.

He’d even stopped at the 24-hour deli convenience store on the way, getting her a club sandwich that she’d been moaning about not being able to have for months - something about pregnant people not being allowed to have lunch meat? He wasn’t sure what that was about.

When he got in the room, it was so quiet, he could hear his heart thumping in his ears. He wasn’t sure why he was nervous- it’s not like the kid was gonna have an opinion on him…yet. But still, he knew first impressions were important. He also didn’t want to fuck anything up, he wasn’t very sure how to hold a baby- he’d never held Eva when she was young, and he heard babies necks were super floppy, so he was really nervous he’d hurt them by mistake.

“Hey..” he said softly, and Sugar sits up. She looked utterly exhausted, she was pale, her hair was knotted and sweaty all stuck to her forehead, and her eyes were bloodshot from either pain or being so tired, he wasn’t sure which.

“Bear! You came!” She said quietly, opening her arms for a hug. He walks over to her, carefully wrapping his arms around her as he wasn’t sure if her stomach would be hurting or not, and kissing her cheek lovingly.

“Y’re amazing Sugar, you did so good, thats fuckin’ crazy- you had a baby, Sug” he tells her, rubbing her arm gently. Carmen didn’t know much about pregnancy and birth, other than what he’d learned from Sugar over the past year or so. The only thing he really knew about the birthing process was what he’d seen on TV, and the fact that birth hurt like an absolute bitch, and that there was no way around it.

“Thank you…is that-“ she asked, picking up the bag he’d placed next to her on the bed. He smiled a bit, pulling the sandwich out.

“Club sandwich. Don’t say I never listen to you” he teased and she pouted, tears filling her eyes and she pulled him into another hug.

“Y’re the best Bear.” She said. “Sorry…I’m gonna be hormonal for like..another year” she laughed a bit.

He chuckled softly, rubbing her back. “I’m used to it by now.” He teased.

The door opened, and a nurse wheeled in a bundle of white striped blankets in to the room, lying in a bassinet.

“Oh! Uncle is here! Okay so baby did great, they’re all set. We got all the bloodwork we needed, took their k shot, everything is looking wonderful. I’ll let you get acquainted” she said, being sure not to give away the baby’s name or gender before they were ready, leaving the little bundle next to Sugars bedside before heading out and closing the door quietly behind her.

The baby coos, making sweet adorable little noises. Carmen took the bag of food for Sugar, placing it on her bedside table as she carefully picked up her baby, cradling them in her arms.

Carmen was in awe. Everything about them was so…tiny. So pure, so untouched by the world. He carefully nudged the blanket down so he could get a better view of their face, the babies teeny little hand peeking out. He couldn’t help the small gasp that escaped his lips as the babe curled their whole hand around his forefinger.

“Sug” he whispered, tears pooling in his eyes and falling to his cheeks before he could try and hold them back. “Oh god…” he said softly, stroking the baby's tiny fingers with his thumb.

“Michael Anthony Lombardi” she said softly. He looks up at her, jaw dropped.

It was totally something sugar would do, so sentimental. Naming her first son after her 2 brothers. But now, Carmen felt even more attached to the little guy. He was carrying his name- he had to take care of him, protect him, the same way Michael had done for him.

Carmen sniffles, kissing her head and resting his cheek on top of it as he looks down at the beautiful little baby. Well- maybe not beautiful physically- yet. Carmen always thought brand new babies looked fairly weird, of course he’d never tell Sugar that, though.

But, beautiful in the sense that he knew what this baby meant for them, for their family. It was a brand new beginning, and maybe- just maybe…this would be enough to get his mother to clean up her act enough to be the grandmother for this baby how she couldn’t be a mother to he and his siblings. “Nice to meet you, Mikey” he said with the kind of smile that made his eyes crinkle, vision blurry with tears.

It had been about 6 months since you and Carm had met, and one of the things you loved about him was what an active, engaged uncle he was with his little nephew, Michael.

He’d grown plenty now since the first time he and the little cub met, being ‘a whole hand and a thumb’ as Mikey proudly told you the time you’d met the little firecracker at the first family dinner you’d attended.

That little boy was Carmy’s sun, moon, and all of his stars. He was constantly spoiling him with new toys, clothes, taking him out for “Mikey and Bear” days, the kid was the lockscreen on his phone for crying out loud. If you weren’t dating him, with the way he talks about that boy- you’d think he was a single dad.

Sugar very much appreciated it though, she never wanted to stop working when she’d gotten pregnant, so being able to balance four different days off with 3 adults, rather than just split the duties between her and Pete- it helped their lives as a couple run a lot smoother overall.

It took a while for Carmy to even introduce you to Mikey. He’d been nervous, reverting to his old ways of ‘waiting for the other shoe to drop’ and nothing would crush him more, then introducing his favorite little guy to someone, getting him used to them, and then them leaving him.

He could handle that rejection- but he damn sure wasn’t gonna subject Mikey to that same pain. If there was one thing Carmen swore, it was to protect the child with everything he had.

This was the third time you’d be meeting Mikey. Carmy had asked if you wanted to take him to the park together for a picnic after he’d picked him up from school, and of course you agreed. There was no better way to spend the afternoon than sharing snacks with your Bear under the shade of oak trees from the late spring sun, and chasing around Sugars mini-me until he clonked out on the blanket for a nap.

When you’d arrived to the park to meet them, you spotted Carm’s large black blanket with his backpack and 2 matching big and small Nalgene water bottles, adorned with stickers from different water parks and amusement parks they’d been to together, but he nor Mikey were nowhere to be seen. But you couldn’t miss them with how loud Mikey was being.

“No! No! I call foul!!” Carm laughed boisterously. You continue on, seeing them come in to view past the blockade of a large tree- to find Carmy rolling in the grass as Mikey tackled him for the football he was holding.

“The Cub takes down The Bear at the 20 yard lineee!!” Mikey shouts ferociously, jumping up and pouncing on Carmys chest in a bodyslam.

Carm groans, “Ohhh you little cheater- when did we start wrestling?! They don’t do bodyslams in football, kid” he wraps his arms around Mikey, caging him in and tickling his sides, causing him to squeal and laugh wildly.

“Wow! Uncle Bear has been lacking at the gym, thanks for takin’ care of my light stuff Mikey” you said teasingly with a big smile.

Mikey quickly got up, running over to you “Blossom!!!” he squealed, crashing into your waist, nearly knocking you over in the process. Blossom had become your nickname in the family, since the first time they’d met you, Carm insisted you’d smelt like cherry blossoms, to which Sugar and Richie agreed, so from then on- you were Blossom.

“Woah! Kid you’re getting strong huh? Peewee football training been gettin intense?” You give him a big hug.

Carm chuckled, getting up and dusting the grass and leaves from his hair and shirt, coming over and greeting you with a peck on the lips. “Tell me ‘bout it- Thanks for meeting me, kids got crazy energy today.” He said, ruffling the boys curly soft brown hair lovingly.

“Nowww can we eat our lunch?” Mikey looked up at him, his pretty blue eyes sparkling in the afternoon light. He really did look like Mikey, and Carmy mixed together in the best way. The Berzatto family genes were mighty strong, at least on the men’s side.

“Yes Cub. Y’know…you scammed me into a happy meal before we got here, how can you be so starved?” He teased, causing you to giggle.

“Again? Wow Carm, you’re going softer and softer as the days go by” you teased, sitting down with he and Mikey on the comfortable blanket under the shade of the trees.

“Well it’s hard to tell him no. Did you know he got a 100% on his spelling test t’day? Mikey, tell Blossom how to spell ‘water’ ” he told him with a grin.

Mikey looks over proudly “w-a-t…” he stops for a moment, looking at Carmy nervously.

“You got it bud, keep goin’- sound it out, what’s next?” Carmy encourages gently.

“E! It's E! w-a-t-e-r!” Mikey finishes proudly and you both clap for him excitedly.

“Oh my goodness! You are such a smart boy. Good job Mikey!” You gush, giving him a high five.

“That’s right the smartest. First spelling test of the year, and you nailed it bud!!” Carmy praised, hugging him and kissing his head sweetly.

“Mommy’s gonna be so excited!” He said, sitting crisscross as he opened up his pb&j Carm packed for him.

“She’s gonna be stoked, Cub. Absolutely stoked” you told him, taking the sandwich Carm had offered you.

“Oh! Blossom I learned a new joke- listen, so you say who’s there when I say ‘knock knock’ got it?” Mikey asks and you nod with a smile.

“Alright, thank you for my lines ahead of time, Cub” you joked, earning a chuckle out of Carmen who had surely heard this joke one million times since he’d learned it, considering he saw the kid no less then 5 days a week.

“Knock knock!” Mikey said, looking at you expectantly.

“I’m doing the dishes” you said, causing Mikey to burst into adorable giggles and Carm to follow suit since he couldn’t help himself when Mikey got started.

“Nooo! Blossom!” He giggled “you say ‘who’s there’ this time, ok?” He said and you nod.

“Okay, okay. I’ll make sure to be not so busy this time.” You teased with a giggle.

“Knock knooock!” He said again.

“Hold on just a second! I need to feed mister mittens- my cat!” You said and he laughs again, shaking his head.

“You promised! Blossom! It’s ‘who’s there!’ “ he giggled.

“Okayyy! Okay! Whoooos there?” You oblige.

“Harry!!!” He said happily, popping a grape in his mouth.

“I don’t know a Harry- so scram!” You teased and he laughed so hard he snorted, causing you and Carmy to crack up in a fit of laughs together.

“You’re bad at jokes Blossom, here watch, Bear will do it right f’me. Bear, knock knock” he looks over at Carm.

“Who’s there, Cub?” He said, taking a bite of his own sandwich.

“Harry” he smiled big, “listen blossom” Mikey urges, causing you to giggle.

“Harry who” Carm said with a large grin. “Harry up and open the door it’s raining out here!!!” Mikey said, bursting in to a fit of giggles which of course caused you and Carm to join.

“Ready or not here I come!” You hear Carmy say. You hold your finger to your lips, holding Mikey tightly in your lap in the tube slide so you both won’t fall and give up your ingenious hiding spot the two of you had come up with.

“Shhh! We gotta be quiet Cub or he’s gonna find us- the bear will eat you!” you joked and he covered his mouth quickly to contain his giggles.

“Where are youuuu!” Carmy called from the other side of the playground, you giggled quietly to yourself.

“We picked a good spot bud!” you whisper proudly and he nods, hugging your arm sweetly. Leg suddenly cramps up from being in such an awkward position in a tube meant for children much shorter then you, and you gasp quietly, moving your foot to relieve it but in the struggle- your flip-flop slips off, sliding down the tube slide and you hear it thump on the ground below, blowing up your hiding spot.

You and Mikey look at eachother as you hear Carm laugh, “Ohhhh! Dead!! You’re both dead!” he said and you quickly lift Mikey behind you.

“Go Mikey! Save yourself he’s gonna eat you!!!” you laugh and he scrambles out of the tube as Carm climbs up from the bottom, grabbing your bare foot.

You squeal in laughter as he pulls you down the slide by your feet, catching you at the bottom and kissing all over your face and neck, nibbling as he goes. “You’ve been caught” he growls playfully, pinning your arms above your head and kissing where your shirt rode up over your stomach leaving playful lovebites on your hips.

“Hey!” Mikey yells, running up and hugging Carms leg, hanging on it like a little monkey. “Thats my best friend! Leave her alone you big grizzly bear!” he yells through his giggles, playfully hitting Carmys leg.

“Ohhhh you’re dead Cub, dead meat buddy” he pulled away from you, scooping Mikey up and swinging him around. “Y’think y’can just beat up y’re best uncle mm little man?” he holds him upside down by his legs holding him carefully and dangling him in front of your face causing him to laugh wildly. “I present your savior Blossom, he’s been defeated” he sways him teasingly causing him to laugh more.

“Oh noooo! Cub! The Bear got you! I forgot to tell you….he and I were working together in secret- mwahaha!!” you laugh evilly, tickling his exposed belly and he wiggles screeching in laughter.

“Not fair- Not fair!!!” he said between giggles. Carm carefully laid him on your lap so he wouldn’t get sick from being upside down and checks his watch for the time.

“Alright- we got 15 minutes, do we want swings, slide, or playing a game?” Carmy asked, causing Mikey to whine.

“Noooo! Bear! It’s not time yet!!! It’s not even dark” he pouted, pointing at the sun, causing Carm to smile.

“Y’re right, its not dark, but bein’ a big man in kindergarten means you got big man responsibilities now, like goin’ home and doin’ homework w’Dad yeah? He’s gonna be waitin’ on you, Dad’s not a man I can reason with m’friend, Higher rank on the totem” he ruffled his hair.

“Fiiiine” Mikey grumbled. “I wanna do swings, race me-” he jumps up from your lap, sprinting towards the swingset.

“Wha- hey! You’re supposed to say 1,2,3, go! Those are the rules cheater!” Carmy laughs as he jogs after him. You slipped on your flipflop, going after the two boys.

“I beat you! See Blossom my new shoes make me so fast!” Mikey called to you proudly, hopping up and sitting in the swing as Carmy finally caught up.

“I did! Super fast Mikey!” you agreed with a giggle making your way up to the swingset.

“Oh! Oh! Blossom, let’s see who can get higher!” Mikey said happily and you oblige, sitting on the swing next to him.

“Alright, Bear- you’re the judge I guess” you smiled, starting to pump your legs.

“I’m a tough critic, I expect perfect form outta you” he teased, sitting down on the picnic table in front of the swingset as he watched.

“I’m gonna win” Mikey said confidently, already getting a few feet higher then you had.

You giggled, “Yeah- cause you had a head start” you counter, pumping your legs harder trying to gain more momentum.

“It’s lookin’ good for Mikey babe, keep it up kid y’re doin’ great” Carm encouraged, resting his hands behind his head and stretching his legs out as he watched.

“Bear can I jump off and you catch me?” Mikey asked hopefully to which Carmen laughs.

“Noooo way kiddo, I’m not takin’ a trip to the ER t’night, I got work in the morning and either i’ll end up hurt, or y’mother will kill me” he said, causing you to laugh as well.

“You’re gonna break your neck kid, don’t do that at school, did that once as a kid and I broke my ankle” you giggled, gasping as your flipflop flew off once again and hit Carmen right over the top of the head, causing you and Mikey to burst out in a fit of giggles.

“Hey!” Carm said, rubbing his head jokingly with a chuckle.”Those things are proving to be a horrible choice of park footwear, baby” he snorts, setting the shoe next to him on the bench for when you got off.

“I’m sorry! My work shoes were a worse choice and these are all I had in my locker” you giggled, the wind whipping your hair as you get higher and higher in the air.

“Bear! Bear! Look how high I am!!!” Mikey said proudly to which Carm nods with a big grin.

“That’s right bud! Y’re so high right now, bet you could touch an airplane if it was flyin’ over huh?” he said, digging his phone out of his pocket to take a video. “Say hi to Mommy!” he said and Mikey laughed happily, waving at Carm.

“Hiiii Mommy! I love you!” he said sweetly with a giggle. “Am I beating Blossom? Huh Bear? Am I higher?” he said and Carm chuckled.

“Mhmm- sorry baby, I think Mikey has ya beat this time around,” he said, ending the video and slipping his phone back in his pocket.

“Well how could I beat the best huh?” you mused, stopping pumping your legs so your swing would slow.

“I told you!” Mikey giggled, digging his heels into the woodchips to come to a hard stop and running up to Carmy, giving him a big hug. “Can we get ice cream bear?” he asked and Carm laughed, shaking his head.

“You don’t stop, huh kiddo? No ice cream, It’ll spoil y’r dinner. How ‘bout, if y’really good at school this week- When I get you on Friday, we’ll go you ‘n me yeah?” he pats his back and Mikey nods with a pout.

“Pinky promise” He holds up his pinky and Carmy hooks his own around it, kissing Mikeys hand, and Mikey kisses his.

“See? Deal” he ruffled his brunette curls and got up, grabbing the flip flop and coming up to you, crouching down grabbing your leg and kissing down your calf causing you to giggle before he carefully put the flip flop on your foot.

“I want a piggyback!” Mikey said, jumping on Carmys back to which he caught his balance with his forearm.

“Woah! Okay! Alright piggyback it is bud but y’gotta tell me yeah? We don’t want anyone gettin’ hurt” he told him, hiking him up on his waist as he stood up, Mikey wrapping his arms around his neck securely.

“Ok I’ll tell you next time” he replied. You hopped off the swing, taking Carmy’s hand and interlacing your fingers as you walked, swinging your hands together happily. The weather was absolutely perfect today. Not a cloud in the sky, perfect humidity, 72 degrees, you were surprised there weren’t more people here at the park other than the fact it was a Wednesday afternoon.

The three of you made your way back over to the blanket, and Carmy gently sets Mikey down to fold it up and pack up his backpack with the remainder of the food we couldn’t finish. “Blossom look! Look! I can jump so high in my new shoes!” Mikey said, tugging your pants to look at him and you obliged, keeping him busy as Carm tried to get everything situated to pack into the car.

“Alright little jumping bean, time to go home d’you wanna race to the car, or I’ll carry you?” He asked, putting on his backpack and carrying Mikeys for him.

“Race- 123go!” Mikey said quickly before taking off and you laughed. Carm shakes his head with a smile, holding your hand as you both walked after him to the car.

The ride back was full of laughter and singing Bluey songs, of course. That was Mikey’s favorite show at the moment, and you couldn’t help but smile at the way Carmy sang with Mikey along to every word. Carmy had even gotten a little Bluey air freshener that hung on his rearview mirror, just another little piece of Mikey that hung around, alongside his carseat that permanently lived in the back, the polaroid of him, sugar, and Mikey on his dash, the many toys scattered along the backseat. It was more than clear that the little guy held his entire heart in the palms of his hands.

“Alright buckaroo” Carmy said as he pulls into sugars driveway. Mikey unbuckles himself, flinging forward and wrapping you into a hug.

“Bye awesome blossom, thanks for playing with me” he said sweetly. You smiled, ruffling his hair and wrapping your arms around him.

“We’ll do it again soon, bud. Be good yeah? Listen t’your momma” You told him, patting his back. Carmy got out, grabbing his bluey backpack for him, helping him out of the car and carrying him up the steps, opening up the door and heading in to drop him off.

You opened up the center console, digging out Carm’s cigarettes and a lighter, knowing he was gonna be craving one bad when he got back in the car. Sugar didn’t even have to ask, as soon as the baby was born- if he was gonna be around the baby he wasn’t smoking until after he’d left, so there was absolutely no chance of any secondhand smoke being passed on to him.

Cracking the window, you lit it, taking a drag as he shuts the door behind him and comes back to the car. You offered the cigarette between your fingers and he smiled, taking it after he buckled his seatbelt. “Have I reminded you today, how much I love you my perfect angel” He leaned in, giving you a sweet lingering kiss on the lips.

You smiled, humming softly at the sweet gesture. “Yes- well- not in person today, but, you did text me - good morning, I love you when you went to work, so that counts” he smiled as he took a drag, backing out of the driveway carefully.

“Well, I love you baby, What are we doin’ f’r dinner? Am I cookin’ er we goin out?” he cracks his window, ashing his cigarette before having another drag, resting his tattooed hand on your thigh, stroking gently as he drove.

“I’m in the mood for some Berzatto Family Pasta” you hum, resting your hand out the window to feel the cool kiss of the spring evening breeze. “Family pasta it is, Blossom”

#carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #the bear fic #the bear fx #carmy berzatto #the bear hulu #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmy berzatto fanfiction #the bear fanfiction #the bear #carmen berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto smut #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmy #carmy the bear #carmy x reader #carmen x reader

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martianbugsbunny · 11 days

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Hour One (A Kalluzeb Fic)

*falling down the stairs* I did it! I finished my post-Zero Hour fic, it's so tasty to me <3 I'm not even gonna ramble about it I'm just gonna get right to the fic bc I love it!!! read on and enjoy!!!

When the ship was safely in hyperspace, Kanan quietly let Kallus into a room on the Ghost that was currently deserted. Judging by the half-made bunk beds against the wall, Kallus assumed it was living quarters, but he was too distracted by the growing pain in his shoulders and ribs to try and piece together whose room it was.

“I’ll give you a minute,” Kanan said. And then Kallus was alone again, with the forgiving, kind voice of the Jedi echoing in his brain. He didn’t deserve that. He didn’t deserve to be spoken to softly. He was lucky these people whom he’d hunted across the galaxy for years had even bothered to pick up his escape pod, rather than speeding away from the Imperial fleet and applying the rule of “serves him right.”

Something in him cracked. He began to sob, silently, terrified of what he had done in betraying the Empire, overwhelmed by a thousand different strident feelings he couldn’t even name. The heavy breaths hurt (every movement seemed to hurt, now that his adrenaline rush was wearing thin) and his head was pounding. Was the world really spinning, or was that just him?

At the first hiss of the door sliding open, Kallus dragged his sleeve hastily across his face to remove any tears or snot that might give away that he’d been crying—a bad decision, really, given his black eye, which stung at the rough contact.

It wasn’t Kanan who stepped into the room, slightly awkwardly and with bright green eyes that reflected back at Kallus those unnamable emotions.

It was Zeb.

Kallus took a step back, hands clenched at his sides. He knew his eyes were red and he could feel spots on his face where he had missed tears, and he hoped Zeb wouldn’t notice. He had no right to cry in front of this man, of all people.

Zeb stared at him for a moment, and Kallus could feel him mentally checking off all the things that were currently wrong on Kallus’s person. Hunched posture from his injured ribs; blotchy face; bloodstains on his uniform and dried blood on his lip.

“I brought you some clothes,” Zeb said. In the other hand he held a medkit, and Kallus realized with a sinking feeling that those supplies were for him. What a waste of resources that seemed. “They’re probably not your size, but they’re better than the Imperial things you’re wearing.”

Kallus took a breath before answering, surprised at how steady he was able to force his voice to be. “Thank you,” he said.

Then there was a horrible pause as Kallus realized he wouldn’t be able to remove his chest armor, much less his shirt, without help, and he could see the exact same knowledge dawning on Zeb’s face. “Karabast,” he said. “You’re going to be stubborn about this, aren’t you.”

Kallus shook his head after only a brief moment of thought. He didn’t have the strength to punish himself any further. Whether or not he was worthy of Zeb’s help would have to wait until he was healed. “If you don’t mind,” he said, taking another shaky breath as he once again met Zeb’s gaze.

He didn’t look angry. He almost seemed…proud? That wasn’t right. Kallus was seeing things; his brain had been shaken up by his escape and he was imagining things that weren’t there. “I don’t,” Zeb said. He crossed the room and set the clothes down on the lower bunk. “Sit,” he said, gesturing to the empty space next to them.

Kallus did as he was told, relieved to be off his feet. The leg he’d injured on Bahryn had been hurting horribly since his fight with Thrawn, particularly his knee. He might need to consider getting a brace, he realized, if he wanted to keep fighting—which he did.

Zeb unclasped the sides of Kallus’s ISB-issued armor, dumping it on the floor. “Sabine’ll get a kick out of painting that,” Zeb said. “You can wear our colors instead of Imperial ones.” “Give it to somebody else,” Kallus said. “I don’t want it.” Zeb gave him another strange look that he couldn’t parse. “Whatever you say.” He began to work at the clasps of Kallus’s uniform shirt. They definitely wasn't built for his large, clawed fingers. “So…you’re a Rebel now,” he said. “Still think you made the right decision?”

There weren’t words to describe how firmly Kallus was convinced of it. He was terrified, staring into the face of the unknown, but he knew he’d done the right thing—he just wasn’t sure how to live with the consequences. How to build a new life for himself out of the ruins of his old one…which had been built on the ruins of so many other people’s lives.

So Kallus simply nodded, trying to keep himself from spilling any more tears. The thing that made that impossible was the gentle way Zeb worked the unclasped shirt from his torso, pulling off one sleeve and then the other, grumbling angrily in that deep, rumbling voice when he saw the bruises on Kallus’s side.

“I apologize,” Kallus said immediately, his voice stiff and cracked like old, uncared-for leather. “This isn’t fair.” Zeb helped him get his arms into the new shirt he’d brought, leaving the clasps undone; the medics would only have to undo them again later to treat his injuries properly. Then he draped a quilted jacket across Kallus’s shoulders.

“You just uprooted your entire life, Kallus,” Zeb said, sighing and adjusting a non-existent crease in the jacket. “I would think it was weird if you didn’t cry.”

“Not in front of you. You shouldn’t comfort me.” Kallus moved backwards, further into the bunk, away from Zeb’s touch. He didn’t deserve empathy and he didn’t want pity. “This shouldn’t be your problem.”

Zeb got up from the floor where he’d been kneeling and sat on the edge of the bunk, staring at the opposite wall instead of at Kallus. “Maybe not,” he agreed. “Maybe I should say it’s none of my business. Maybe I should leave you to deal with it alone. But when you worked with me on that ice moon, and saved my friends from the Empire, and fed us all that intel as Fulcrum, I think you kind of made yourself my business.” He turned back towards Kallus, his face serious, his eyes soft. “Now let me check your other injuries.”

Kallus complied, shifting closer to Zeb. Even if it didn’t sit right with him, he didn’t think he could refuse Zeb anything. He would do whatever he was asked, whatever he was told—even allow Zeb to take on some of his burden—if it would make a fraction of a difference. If it would help him so much as an inch towards making amends.

With his broad hands carefully gentle, Zeb put a few stitches in Kallus’s broken lower lip. Kallus wondered where Zeb had learned those skills; if it was gained during his time in the Honor Guard of Lasan or in the Rebellion. For a moment, he was lost in wondering, searching Zeb’s face while he was intent on his task as though he could find an answer there. He only realized Zeb had paused and asked him a question when Zeb tilted his head to the side, staring at Kallus for an answer of his own.

“Could you repeat that?”

Zeb rolled his eyes. “I said, can you see alright? That black eye doesn’t look too good.”

His eyes were dry now, but there was still a blur in the left side of his vision. “Actually, I can’t,” he said, swallowing hard. “Everything to the left is hazy.”

“It'll probably need a while to heal,” Zeb said. “If it doesn’t, we’ll get you fitted with some visual aids.” He dabbed something cold and clear on the bruised skin. “There’s nothing more I can do until we land, but you should be fine.”

The pain in his side begged to argue, and he was pretty sure that something in there was broken, but Kallus nodded. “Thank you,” he said quietly. “For everything."

How could he put that everything into words? Thank you for not killing me on Bahryn, thank you for telling me to look for the answers, thank you for believing me when I was Fulcrum, thank you for picking me up just now, thank you for tending my wounds.

He didn’t need to. The way Zeb was looking at him, he already knew.

“We have enough people on board to handle things,” Zeb said, his voice equally low. “I can stick around here for a while if you want the company.”

Kallus felt a smile tugging at the stitches on his lip. More everything to be grateful for. “Alright.”

They sat there together on the bunk for a while in silence. It was a comfortable silence, somehow, and Kallus finally began to relax, not breathing easily past the injuries to his ribs but certainly breathing more easily than before.

“You were limping,” Zeb said, breaking the quiet. “When you came on board you were limping.”

“Once you’re wounded, that body part becomes a target. It’s not so bad, now that my weight’s been off it.” Zeb leaned back against the wall. “That’s good.” He extended one arm to Kallus. “Come on, Kal. We’ve got time before we land anywhere, you can rest.”

There was a moment of hesitation, of doubt, and then Kallus allowed himself to settle next to Zeb, with a strong purple arm around his shoulders. As he started drifting off, safe for the first time in months and knowing his injuries would be cared for, Kallus thought he felt Zeb’s fingers gently rubbing across his arm, and there was a little pit of warmth in his chest that kept the cold of pain and guilt out.

#come get ur juice kalluzebbies #alexsandr kallus #garazeb orrelios #kalluzeb #star wars #Star Wars rebels #rebels #post zero hour #post zero hour fic #hurt/comfort #fic #I've been talking about this thing for at least a month now I think #it's finally done so nobody needs to set my house on fire lol #martianbugsbunny writes fic

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littlestpetgoth · 5 months

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the big Tris post. here it is.

(originally i had it so that his parents were dead and he grew up alone, somehow surviving on his own and integrating himself into society, but that’s kind of ridiculous so i decided i'd scrap that narrative and make his experiences more human.)

for as long as tris has been alive it’s been noticed that his body has been capable of quickly recovering from any injury. as a child his scraped knees would smooth over by the next day, his paper cuts heal in instants, broken bones were better after a night’s rest. he was blessed with some kind of miracle that kept him safe from harm, it really helped his family save on medical bills, but as he grew older he started to see this blessing as more of a curse.

tris has always isolated himself, even at a young age. he purposely went to spots of the playground where no one else would play, ignored other children who would approached him, actively went out of his way to be alone. he doesn't like being around others and gets overwhelmed when forced into social situations. his overwhelming feelings sometimes grow into violence and he would lash out at his peers and hurt them when he got frustrated, throwing objects and tugging whatever he could grab onto, so most of the time he was left alone to avoid these outbursts. he grew up with few to no friends given how difficult it was to be around him.

tris takes out a lot of his frustrations and confusions not only on others but also on himself. even at a young age

his parents had him set up with a behavioral therapist to try to understand why he would lash out this way and why he wanted to be alone, and his answers have always been straight forward. he doesn't want to, and he doesn't like it. he doesn't like the way it feels to be in crowded classrooms, he doesn't like how noisy the other children are, and he doesn't like looking at the smiles his teachers give him to try to get him comfortable. His parents still had hope that he'd eventually open up and be like a normal child so they continued letting him go to public school. His teachers would avoid forcing him to closely participate with the other students for their safety. These efforts didn't mean things got better or anything.

tris at a young age developed a fascination for dead things. dead animals, dead plants, little tris would always somehow get his grubby little hands on something deceased. he has no respect for the dead by any means but instead his fascination is in the reactions that others have towards the dead. tris's favorite activity as a child was dangling a dead animal in the face of the kids around him. the kids around him were afraid of whatever awful thing he'd pull out of his pocket next, running away from him and scooting their seats to be as far as they possibly could. this reputation further isolated him, and even got him into some trouble with kids who didn't like his odd and awful behavior. there were many fights, scuffles, insults thrown his way. he was infamous for being problematic and no one wanted to try getting to know him, they all knew he was going to pull out some dead bug and throw it in their hair whenever he got the chance.

in tris's teen years he hasn't improved much, but has found a couple of ways of coping that keep the people around him safe. he's occupied himself with creating art, sculptures and drawings depicting his thoughts and fantasies, they're morbid and grotesque and one of the few things he finds joy in. he does his best to completely isolate himself and skips out on classes just to be alone with a sketchbook. around this time he also was coming to terms with his own identity, he doesn't like to identify as trans and just claims he's always been a boy and snaps at people who question that. he's overwhelmed with anxieties and frustrations when interacting with people in person, face to face, but he feels a lot more confident when socializing behind a screen via the internet.

it's easier to hide his face and figure, easier to get in touch with many people, and easier to lurk and observe without having to leave the safety and comfort of his room. he loves to start fights online, anonymously, and send horrific images and videos to unsuspecting people that make him feel sick. some of this content he's curated from various parts of the net but a lot of it he's made himself. diy snuff films feat yours truly, he enjoys brutalizing himself and sending it to his poor victims, relishing in their horrified reactions. of course he's ran into a few individuals who are fascinated with him, and want to learn more about him or get him to make personalized content, but he has no interest in interacting with these few and is irritated by their existence. alongside harassing and haunting the poor souls who catch his attention, tris posts his work on an art account where he eventually learns to take commissions from. he doesn't have much interest in games, movies and shows, or comics. every now and then he'll find something just to make the day go by faster.

tris has cycled through several therapists, has been prescribed various medication from a psychiatrist, has even been sent to camps to try and fix his odd and destructive behaviors but he is very uncooperative. he's made little progress in his journey of bettering himself and doesn't care to put any effort in it, even feeling resentful towards his parents for forcing him to even try. they've spent a lot of time and money into trying to find out what's wrong with him and trying to get him to be a normal child with friends and normal hobbies, but their every attempt has been for nothing. sometimes it seems tris lashes out in spite. he's also spoken with school counselors numerous times, they've tried to get a better understanding of him, he always shuts them out and doesn't reveal anything about his thoughts and feelings or why he does the things he does.

because he pays little attention in school and skips out frequently, he's been held back a year or two academically. tris has done some summer schooling to make up for this but he cares so little about his education that it hasn't caught him up. he still gets in trouble with other students and often is caught up in fights with peers who think he should be punished for his awful behavior (deserved really). he gets the shit beaten out of him pretty often, by bullies and what not, it makes him angry but he's not strong enough to fight back very well. he has resorted to keeping sharp objects on him that he can use to do real damage, and this has gotten him into so much trouble that he's been expelled from schools and forced to transfer elsewhere. he's in and out of hospitals and juvenile detention for all sorts of shenanigans.

there's no real specific events to make note of, a lot of his memories are a blur and people rarely capture his interest enough to remember them at all. he gets into photography at some point and starts taking photos of anything disgusting or depressing he can find. garbage, dead animals, puddles of blood after whatever he gets himself into, crying children, it's a miserable collection of things but it's what he likes to focus on. he'll photograph people at the park while people watching and imagine horrible things he thinks they deserve to go through just for existing.

ill wrap this up quickly because it's a long stupid post and i really don't need to keep going into depth on him, but one day while out taking photos he spots a young man. something about this boy captured tris's attention unlike anyone he's ever seen - maybe the way he smiled or the way he spoke so enthusiastically to others - and tris latched onto this feeling as hard as he could.

he found where he worked, where he lived, where he went to school where he liked to shop what he liked to do what his routine was. every thing tris could learn about this boy he managed to get his grimy hands on, that boy was cody. (ko's silly little emo boy oc)

tris had found a new hobby: stalking a guy he'd never spoken to, a guy who didn't even know he existed, and he hated him. he hated him with every cell in his body, seeing his stupid cheesy grin made his stomach churn and hearing his obnoxious voice made his jaw clench tighter. he wanted nothing more than to ruin the happiness that this young man experienced day to day. so what does any deranged teenager do when you hate someone? you cyber bully them online and send them cryptic awful messages until you see them break.

he'd dm him on throwaway accounts, sending images of his mutilation and paragraphs of graphic threats. cody never did anything to wrong tris, poor thing was probably scared out of his mind. what do you do when some crazy stranger is stalking you and sending you graphic content? probably block them over and over and over and just hope they leave you alone. but tris was determined. determined to make this guy who radiated light succumb to the darkness and also probably kill himself. he wanted to do everything he could to make cody miserable and to get rid of the swarming thoughts in his mind..

one day tris visited cody's place of work (i think its like a gas station, some sort of small store) and he is watching him quietly in a corner while pretending like he's shopping around. either cody got suspicious of him, or wanted to make sure he was ok, something happened that got cody to speak up and say hello to tris.. and tris froze up! he froze up, couldn't muster out a response and couldn't brush him off like he could other people. he could feel his heart pounding and his face get all hot.. darted out of the shop with several things stuffed into his pockets and got the hell out of there.. probably threw up afterwards. humiliating experience, unexplainable feelings. but those feelings weren't hatred and anger like before.. turns out he had a big gay crush on this white boy and didn't know what to do with himself. but he didn't know how to go about it .

idk. some more stuff between them, they warm up to each other and tris stops sending cody evil malicious messages. they're like totally in love... and tris is super possessive over him (craazy) while cody is doing his best to live with the horror that is tris yeah lol. its like. toxic evil yaoi to normal loving and sweet romance between two emo boys.

rushed at the end because otherwise i would never upload this, its been ssitting here for i think months now. tris means a lot to me.

#oc #gore #blood #tris #pookie :3 #sh scars #ref #death #dead animal #blarrh #cw

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azulock · 2 months

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Hellooo I saw that your requests are open and I wanted to request wild card Kunigami having a (massive) crush on Gn!Reader ~-~ (Like imagine he's been crushing on reader since before wild card and now everytime they interact his old personality shines through)

Sorry nonnie, but I only write them as pro players, so we going with post-wild card Kunigami babe, but I mean, that whole thing is sure to leave some mental scars, I mean...

Kunigami with a crush

Kunigami who leaves the who leaves the whole Blue Lock experience to start his professional life still filled with angst born from his time in Wild Card

He's not the same person, he knows it all too well, and no matter what he does, his situation doesn't seem to be getting any better, so he pretty much just accepts this as his new normal

That is, until he finds you again, you'd been friends since before he entered the Blue Lock program, and Kunigami always had a crush on you

He feels stupid when you meet by chance and you strike a conversation with him, he can barely respond properly now, and he knows you aren't dumb, you can see the changes

He feels really bad about it, because the person you were friends with isn't who he is right now, and it seems like that person is so far away that he can't even remember what he was like before

Still, against all logic - at least to him - you make a point of exchanging contacts, of seeing each other again, you make the effort to rekindle the friendship despite his edgy demeanor

He doesn't know if he should be accepting it, he doesn't feel worthy, and truth is, the crush he had on you was always very intense, and he could already feel it blossoming again

Tho, Kunigami doesn't resist you, and he just lets you do as you wish, trying to enjoy your presence and pretend there's nothing else going on

Overtime he starts becoming more comfortable with your presence, slowly opening up, and glimpses of his old self coming back

Being around you makes him feel good with himself, it makes he feel like his old self again, it's something of a healing experience

Tho, his feelings still eat away at his heart, each day they grow more, and he catches himself staring, watching every little movement of your face, committing to memory the shape of your smile and so on

It takes a while but one day it boils over, he stumbles on his words as he confesses his feelings, and he still doesn't feel quite feel deserving of you, doesn't quite feel fully like himself yet, but he can't hide his feelings anymore

And, oh boy, isn't him shocked when you still accept him anyway

tag me in: @tinnaagine @loser-vxbez @kiurona @bentolover @bevernats @weirdbutpr3tty @ada7201 @vollereix @rinitosh @kum1ko-chan @romanticizemai @oneandonlykuronacuddler @borisbq

#bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #kunigami x reader #kunigami rensuke

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fortheloveofwonderland · 1 year

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Congratulations on your milestone!

If it’s not too late, I’d like to request Spencer/Reader post prison with this lyric.

“You’re the cure, and your eyes have dug me out of my grave more times than I could ever count. You’ve always been the one to breathe me back to life - The Cure by The Movielife

Thank you.

Oh how I love post prison angst! And this was the perfect song for, thank you darling!

You’re the Cure

Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Summary - you’ve always been the ray of light in Spencer Reid’s often dark life. But in the wake of his incarceration, can you be his cure?

CW - past drug addiction, past parental abandonment, mentions of Maeve arc, prison arc, emotionally distant Spencer, break ups, bad mental health, mentions of not eating and bathing, an almost relapse, heavy drinking, maybe one swear, tears, hopeful ending.

WC - 4.4k

Spencer Reid had never seen himself as someone who needed saving. Being forced to grow up at ten years old when his father abandoned him and his sick mother, had a way of instilling in him that when things went wrong, he could only rely on himself.

His drug addiction only went to further perpetuate the notion that he was on his own. Even when his brain was muddled by the dilaudid he knew his team was aware of what was going on and not a single one of them ever said anything.

So Spencer got used to fending for himself, keeping his emotional issues internalised. He loved his friends but he learnt not to count on them. As such he made a habit of keeping his cards close to his chest, never letting anyone in fully.

Spencer Reid could only truly depend on one person and that was Spencer Reid.

But then he met you.

You admittedly joined the BAU at the worst possible time. Spencer was off work while he dealt with the grief of losing Maeve and he heard all about you through stories from Garcia and JJ. Both women described you as a bouncy, happy-go-lucky, ray of human sunshine. And to be perfectly honest, that filled Spencer with dread.

It was one of the darker moments of his life and the idea of someone coming in and trying to force their light onto him was the last thing he needed. Spencer liked to deal with his trauma by wallowing in it on his own, he didn’t need other’s trying to cheer him up, to drag him out of the shadows. He wasn’t looking for someone to try and make it better, to take his pain away.

And then you showed up and you breathed him back to life without even realising you were doing so.

From the moment he met you he had instinctively gravitated towards you, like you were magnets of opposing poles who were inherently drawn to one another. But his wounds caused by Maeve’s death were still so raw that he wasn’t in a position to open his heart up again.

So the two of you fell into a wonderful friendship, probably the best one Spencer had ever had in his life. You were the light to his dark, the sunshine on his cloudy day. You were the first sip of coffee in the morning, the crisp pages of a new book. You were his favourite song.

You were his cure.

The whole team joked about the two of you, often referring to you as work husband and wife. Truthfully what you had was essentially a romantic relationship minus the intimacy. And at some point Spencer found the scars start to heal and his heart began to open up again without his realising.

Almost two years after you joined the team, when Spencer kissed you for the first time, it was like the most natural thing in the world.

You’d been leaving work together one night and you offered him a ride home like always but somedays Spencer enjoyed taking the metro to clear his head after particularly long days.

He walked you to your car nonetheless and as you were saying goodbye he leant in and kissed the corner of your mouth as though it was something he did all the time. And then he kissed you again, this time directly on the lips and the strangest part of it was how it didn’t feel strange at all.

You never talked about what it meant but you didn’t need to. The next time the two of you went to the movies he slid his hands in yours as you walked towards the theatre. He spent the night with his arm protectively around your shoulders while you snuggled against him.

And outside of your door after he walked you home, he kissed you again, this time much more passionately. You’d subsequently invited him in and the two of you finally took your relationship to a whole new level.

You never defined your relationship per se. Somewhere over time Spencer started referring to you as his girlfriend and it was just so simple.

Your relationship had grown and blossomed as though it was the easiest thing in the world, like you’d always meant to be together. Up until he’d met you, Spencer’s life had been full of complications but you were the least complicated thing in the world.

You were the full stop to the end of all his paragraphs, you banished all the darkness from his life. You were the cure for everything that ailed him.

But then he was arrested.

Being locked in a cage for two and half months for a crime he didn’t commit brought all those demons out of the shadows that you had chased away with your light. He was sure even your sunny aura couldn’t bring him back from this.

And after his release, he started shutting down.

It started in small ways, ones in which you didn’t even really notice at first. Conversations became more one sided, his casual touches were few and far between. Then he started leaving for work earlier and earlier and you started getting used to waking up alone in an empty bed.

During his stints of mandatory leave from the BAU you barely saw him and you knew that was by design. It became apparent that he was avoiding you, pushing you away along with the rest of the team.

But you weren't the rest of the team. You were his partner, you shared a home together; a life together. You were once able to pull him out of any hell he was going through without even really trying. But this time he seemed so lost you worried he’d never find his way back to you.

Even when he was home, mentally he was elsewhere. Perhaps he was still stuck inside a prison cell at Milburn, or maybe he was trapped in a perpetual nightmare that revolved around Cat Adams.

You tried to comfort him, to offer him a reprieve from his dark thoughts but after so many attempts you gave up trying. There was only so much you could do and to be perfectly honest, you didn’t think there was any way of freeing him from the clutches of his monsters.

Seven months after his release from prison, the two of you called time on your relationship.

You moved out of his apartment and in with Penelope as a temporary measure while you found your own place. You took an indefinite leave of absence from the BAU while you worked on piecing your life back together.

You didn’t see or speak to Spencer for several months that followed the break up. You made Penelope promise you not to tell you anything pertaining to him, it wasn’t your job to worry about him anymore. And even thought it killed her to do so, Penelope agreed to do this one thing for you.

Spencer had allowed himself to get swallowed up in the darkness and this time even your magnificent light wasn’t enough to cure him.

***

Three months after the break up you still felt just as fragile as you did the day you moved out of his apartment. Your heart had taken a beating, it was bruised and battered and it would take a long time for it to heal, you knew that. But after three months you thought you might have made some progress. Instead you were still stuck at square one.

You’d moved out of Penelope’s last month into a tiny little studio apartment not far from Dupont Circle. You hated it if you were honest, but it was better than continuing to put Garcia out by sleeping on her couch.

You hadn't been back to the BAU since the break up and had recently started looking for other jobs. You’d interview at the DC Field Office and were hopeful to get an offer, but it would be bitter sweet. You loved the BAU, you didn’t want to leave, but you knew you couldn’t work with Spencer again. Not with the way your heart shattered everytime you simply thought his name.

You were trying to move on, it was all you could do. But what you didn’t realise was Spencer living in a whole new level of hell.

***

The final nail in Spencer Reid’s coffin was when you moved out of the apartment. And what made it a harder pill to swallow was the fact it was his own fault you’d done so.

He’d thought he’d been protecting you by bottling up his emotions and not dragging you down into the pit created by his time in prison. He thought if he didn’t talk about it, it would go away. This was one thing you couldn’t shield him from, one thing he needed to work through on his own the way he’d grown so accustomed to doing before he met you.

But he’d pushed you too far, right out the door. And from there his life simply spiralled out of control.

He left the BAU, just up and quit one day without any warning. He knew it was terrible timing with you taking a leave of absence but he couldn’t stop himself. He woke up one day and decided he’d had enough.

For the months that followed he didn’t leave his apartment much at all. He wasn’t eating properly, wasn’t showering as frequently as he should and barely sleeping more than a couple of fretful hours a night.

To be alone with himself like this for eternity would be agony. Without you there to breathe him back to life his appetite for living died.

On one of his rare trips outside of the four walls of his tiringly lonely apartment, he brought a vial of dilaudid. He kept it in the middle of his coffee table for weeks, unopened, just as a reminder that he could take it if he wanted to.

But thankfully it never did come to that. Instead of getting high, a particular rabbit hole he may never find his way out of, he drank.

In actuality, it wasn’t much better and he knew that. Just because he’d never had a dependency to alcohol before didn’t mean he couldn’t develop one, clearly he was susceptible to addiction. But drinking was the only thing that helped numb the pain, aided in distancing himself from his tormented thoughts.

Without you the demons were able to sneak closer and he lived with them among the shadows. You were always the one to shoulder the brunt of his misery but now he had to face it alone because he’d pushed you away. The lightness in your heart that he had always envied was gone, casting him forever into blackness.

He needed you here, the cure when his thoughts turned to cyanide, when he was going out of his fucking mind.

He’d been drunk for more days straight than he could count and with each passing day the dilaudid grew more tempting. He moved it from the coffee table more often, rolling the vial around his hand, tapping his nails against it; contemplating the sweet release that would come with just one hit.

But it never would be just one hit.

The things he’d seen and done in prison haunted his every waking breath and seeped over into the small window of sleep he managed. He was never going to be the same after that experience, it had hardened him in a way he never realised possible.

It had created a shell around his heart, a solid armour snugly encasing the organ in order to protect himself from his own emotions. But ultimately it hadn’t just been himself his emotions had been locked away from.

In the seven months you stayed by his side after his release he hadn’t once been able to tell you he loved you. It only occurred to him after you walked away that he hadn’t said that to you since the morning he’d left for Mexico.

In seven months the most physical contact the two of you had was a few occasions when you’d dared to place a kiss on his cheek. You hadn’t kissed properly, hadn’t been intimate, hadn’t even so much as held hands since before he made the decision to go to Mexico.

It wasn’t that he didn’t think about it. There were multiple times he’d almost initiated something, almost drawn you into his body when you were laying in bed side by side yet miles apart. But he always stopped himself.

The sad fact of the matter was: Spencer didn’t trust himself to be with you anymore. But in order to survive in prison he’d had to become someone he didn’t recognise and it wasn’t so easy for him to shed that new persona. And as if to really drive that point home, when he’d had Cat pinned against the wall with his hand around her throat, he knew he would never trust himself with you again.

The darkness was inside of him now, leaching into every pore. If he was the kind of man who could have killed Cat, or Scratch, and slept well afterwards, who’s to say where he would draw that line?

As much as he missed you with every strangled beat of his shattered heart, keeping you away from him kept you safe. And he only ever wanted you to be safe.

But without you, he may well meet his demise at the bottom of a bottle, or the bottom of a vial.

You were the cure. Your eyes have dug him out of his grave more times than he could ever count. You’ve always been the one to breathe him back to life.

And so maybe it was inevitable that he called you, perhaps it was a feat in itself that he’d managed months on his own. But when he found himself on his bathroom floor, half a bottle of whiskey clouding his brain and a needle full of dilaudid in his hand, the only thing that was going to stop his relapse was you.

He didn’t expect you to answer but he prayed you would. And maybe someone was looking out for him, maybe there was some kind of higher power smiling down on him because you answered after three rings.

“Spencer…” your voice was barely above a whisper as you spoke his name. Just those two simple syllables from your lips wrapped him in a blanket of your warmth.

“H-hi Y/N.” His own was hoarse, run down. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d spoken out loud and it showed.

Tears rolled down his cheeks, heavy and thick as the hand holding the needle trembled.

“Did you…did you want something?” Your voice held the weight of the pain he’d cause you and made even more tears fall.

“Uh…” he stared at the needle, brushing his thumb along the plastic tube. This was so unfair of him. He couldn’t do this to you, drag you back into his mess like this. He knew if he asked you would come running in a heartbeat. But it wasn’t fair of him to ask. “It’s nothing. Forget I called.”

“Are you sure?” Your tone was riddled in concern.

“Y-yeah. Sure. V-very sure.” He stuttered, choking a little on his own tears.

Before you could reply he hung up the phone before he could change his mind and beg you to come and save him from himself. He tossed the device aside and focused on the needle. He leant back against the bathroom wall, pulling his knees up to meet his chest.

The cool tile on his bare feet was a nice repreve, but the dilaudid would be better.

His shirt sleeve was already pushed up to his elbow, the tie was already secured around his bicep. The needle was full, all he had to do was press it into his waiting vein and all of his problems would melt away.

But this was one grave he may never be able to dig himself out of. Once he relapsed there would be no going back, no getting sober this time. But his sobriety didn’t mean as much to him as it once had, and perhaps it was worth succumbing to his demons for a chance at peace.

***

Despite how hard he tried to sound like himself, it was easy for you to see through Spencer’s thinly veiled lie. And as much as you didn’t want to involve yourself anymore, you couldn’t help yourself.

Taking care of Spencer Reid came as naturally to you as breathing. You didn’t intend on doing it, and most of the time he didn’t need looking after. But you did it anyway in small, every day ways.

You did it in the way you made him coffee every morning before work. You did it in the way you ran your fingers through his hair after a stressful day. You did it in the way you grasped his hand when he needed something to ground him, when you offered him a soft smile of encouragement when he needed it.

He’d always called you his cure, as though you were the antidote to all the horrors in the world. He’d told you that your smile was the sweetest medicine, that your mere presence in his life was therapeutic.

So if there was any way you could help him, even after he’d pushed you away and caused you to leave, you would find it and you would do it. Which was why after he hung up on you, you were quickly jumping in your car and driving across town to the apartment you used to reside in.

The door wasn’t just unlocked but it was open a crack. Immediately your heart started to race and you were so glad you hadn’t officially quit the BAU yet and you were still in possession of your firearm.

Your hand shook as you pulled the weapon from your holster, nudging the door further open with your shoulder. You made quick work of taking in the room. It looked to be ransacked, like someone had broken in and turned the place upside down in search of something.

You held your breath as you silently started across the room, manoeuvring in and out of piles of debris left behind in someone's wake. You headed towards the closed bedroom door, gun pointing right ahead of you. You focused your hearing but thus far couldn’t make out any distinctive sounds.

Pushing open the door, you found the bedroom in much the same state as the living room. You tried not to allow yourself to get sentimental as your eyes swept across the unmade bed and you thought back to late nights and early mornings snug beneath those sheets with Spencer. The bed that was so big but you’d never know it as he always kept you as close as humanly possible.

The bathroom door, like the front door, was open a crack and a light pooled from inside. It was then you heard the sound of haggard breathing punctuated by loud sniffing, causing the hairs on the back of your neck to well and truly stand to attention.

As you listened to the unmistakable sounds of a grown man sobbing, you lowered your gun and tucked it back in your holster.

A deeply disturbed and troubled man had ravaged this apartment but it was not the work of some petty criminal. Spencer had turned his home into a reflection of his own tortured mind, you had no doubt.

You were somehow more tentative after you knew someone hadn’t broken in. You had never seen Spencer cry before, he always liked to put up a tough exterior, probably something to do with him being the baby of the BAU for so many years.

You’d seen him vulnerable, probably more than he’d ever let anyone else see him, but you’d never witnessed him with his walls stripped away completely. And honestly, the thought of it scared you a little.

But no matter how scared you were, despite how much he had hurt you, you pressed on.

You inched open the bathroom not wanting to startle him and found him on the floor, hugging his legs to his chest and sobbing into his knees. But the truly terrifying part was the vial and needle discarded at his side. A silk tie was fashioned into a tourniquet around his arm.

“S-Spencer?” You gasped, covering your gaping mouth with your hands.

He stiffened and slowly lifted his head from where it had been buried in the fabric of his slacks. His eyes were red rimmed and tears silently streamed down his cheeks. His hair drooped lifelessly onto his forehead and his face clearly hadn’t seen a razor in months.

He somehow looked even worse than when you visited him in prison.

“Why are you here?” His voice cracked and his words were slightly slurred.

“You didn’t sound like yourself on the phone. I needed to see you with my own eyes.” You heard the sadness in your own tone, unable to hide it.

“I’m not myself.” He exhaled a breath that sounded like he had been holding it in for years. “I haven’t been since prison.”

You swallowed, daring to take a few steps further into the bathroom. Spencer let his legs fall and stretch out in front of him on the linoleum and you slid down to sit next to him, the only thing separating you was the drug paraphernalia. As if reading your mind he exhaled again before he spoke.

“I didn’t take it.” He wouldn’t look at you, instead he looked down at his hands. “I wanted to, but I didn’t.”

“Why are you slurring then?” You watched the side of his face. He clenched and unclenched his jaw several times.

“Whiskey. Not dilaudid. I swear.”

“I’ve never known you to drink.” Of course it was a relief that he hadn’t taken the drugs, but hearing that he was drunk wasn’t a whole lot better.

“I hadn’t had a drink in nearly ten years. I gave it up around the same time as I quit dilaudid, I guess I worried it would become one vice replacing another. But I needed something. And alcohol was the lesser of two evils.” He was still slurring but he was surprisingly coherent.

It didn’t surprise you in the least that Spencer could still string a logical sentence together when he was inebriated.

“Why did you call me, Spencer? Of all the people you could have called, why me?” You whispered as though you weren’t entirely sure you really wanted an answer to that.

He finally looked at you, glancing to his side with his eyebrows knitted together in confusion. He ran his tongue along his bottom lip in contemplation for a moment or two as though formulating a carefully curated answer. But really, the answer was incredibly simple.

“Because you’re my cure.” He shrugged, his tears had dried up but the stains on his cheeks remained. “And right now I am in desperate need of remedy.”

“Spencer…” You sighed, your own eyes misting over with tears. “I was always here for you, you could have talked to me about anything but instead you shoved me aside and tried to deal with things on your own.”

“I’ve never been very good at asking for help. I’ve only ever been able to rely on myself. People leave. People aren’t reliable. But you…” he trailed off, shaking his head. “You brought the kind of sunshine into my life I could only dream of. You have saved me in more ways than you will ever know. Your mere existence in my life has been more help to me than I can explain to you. That’s why I call you my cure, because it's the best way I can think to describe what you are to me.”

“I knew you would be different after prison, Spencer. No decent man can go through an experience like that and come out unchanged. But in your bones you are still the Spencer Reid I fell in love with.” You tried to tell him much like you had countless times in those torrid seven months. You hoped this time he might actually hear it.

“I’m really not sure that I am, Y/N.” He raked his fingers through his tangled hair with a meek shake of his head.

“I am.” You nodded. “I’m sure. Spencer, whatever you had to do inside was for your own protection. It was every man for himself and you did what you did to survive. And Cat…? After everything she’s done to you, I wanted to strangle the bitch too.”

Spencer’s eyes widened, looking a little like deer caught in headlights. He was gnawing on his bottom lip haphazardly as he stared at you.

“Really?”

“Yes, Spencer.”

“Do you really think I can come back from this?”

“Yes, Spencer.” You repeated, defiance in your voice. “And I’m going to help you. Whether you want me to or not. Because my love for you is stronger than the pain you caused me. I will be by your side, showering you in light until there is not even a sliver of a shadow for your demons to hide in. Let me be your cure, Spence.”

You reached out your hands towards him, palm upwards and fingers spread to create enough space for his own to slot between them. He glanced between your face and your hand a few times before his lip quipped up ever so slightly at the corner in a small smile.

And then he reached for you, his fingers finding those spaces between your own that always seemed like they were made intentionally to fit his. It was as though someone had crafted you both perfectly for each other.

Spencer had never been a believer in higher powers but it was the only reason he could fathom for how you had found him.

In a world consisting of nearly eight billion people, what were the chances of the two of you meeting? What were the odds of two perfectly imperfect people finding each other and slotting together in such an inconceivably faultless way?

As you sat there hand in hand, Spencer knew he would do anything to keep you by his side for as long as he lived. Even if it meant allowing you to see all his flaws, all his cracks. Because he was certain now you would love every one of his broken pieces.

You were the light casting away his shadows. You were the air being breathed into his lungs. You were the thread holding him together.

You were the cure.

#milestone celebration #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x y/n

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welcome-to-green-hills · 6 months

Note

Bye mystery what are your thoughts on the whole ‘SoNiC cAn’T cRy’ rule on Twitter and from some writers? I find it stupid. He should be allowed to cry.

Hi Hon!❤️✨

Ummm… I feel that we’re missing a bit of information here. It’s became a bit of a meme on Twitter. And I think that the “meme” kinda lost its translation, if you know what I mean.

I’ve looked through fan Wikis, Reddit, Twitter, and other social media outlets to see what these mandates are. I found a Reddit post implying that there are regulations, but suggests that these are for IDW comics only (IDW Reddit, 2020).

Sonic is absolutely allowed to cry, he doesn’t cry in front of others (Ohshima, 2019). To him, in tears are a private feeling. The tears of grief and loss are for him to experience by himself. And that’s not a bad thing. It doesn’t mean that he’s not allowed to cry. It just means that it’s an emotion he feels and experiences himself. Something that he needs to listen to in order to make peace with it.

Let me put into this perspective; when we cry, we’re feel many emotions. Sometimes it’s hard to understand what emotions were feeling and how many we feel when it’s released. And sometimes feeling everything can cause sensory overload. If one cannot begin to identify what we’re feeling at that moment of time, do we really want to share that with others yet? Not necessarily. Sometimes being alone is the best thing. Being alone allows one to contemplate on why they’re feeling all of these strong emotions and provide a sense of inner peace. Taking a step back to feel our emotions allows ourselves to search within our heart and mind to understand we are so moved to begin with. There are times that I may not want to be near others when I cry. Sometimes I need to be alone. Being alone allows me the chance to sit and contemplate on what my heart and mind want me to hear.

I’ve shared with you all in the past that it’s okay to cry. Everyone should cry. What I haven’t done a good job in communicating is that you don’t always have to share your thoughts and feelings right away. I’m sorry for that. When we cry, it’s message from within our heart and soul that is screaming for attention. Sometimes crying and anger and any other strong emotion is your body asking for attention. It’s a message that needs to be heard and reflected upon in order to understand. This message helps us grow and become a better version of ourselves. It’s personal growth. It’s a lesson that only you can understand and appreciate what it’s teaching you. The message needs to be internalized before it can be shared with others. And sharing with others is entirely up to you! Feeling a strong emotion and healing from it could be private. It gives you a chance to look back from where you began and fully appreciate the growth that you’ve made from it.

I can completely understand where this misleading information comes from. He’s not emotionally constipated/out-of-tune as some fans claim. This does not mean that Sonic doesn’t trust his friends. Not at all! He’s very open and honest with others. Taking the time to be by himself to cry allows him a chance to release all of the emotions inside before he shares what he feels in his heart. He needs that peace to understand why he’s feeling the way that he feels in order to properly heal from it.

Does that make sense? I hope it does. If you need further explanation, let me know. I’m more than happy to reexplain if needed! I hope that this answers your question, my dear!❤️✨

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic #mystery anon #off topic #sonic movie #sth

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emmitaaa4 · 3 months

Text

Addressing some fandom BS inconsistencies

Gwyn was shadow mommy, Az was shadow daddy, they were gonna have shadow babies with her extra super pliable bones.

I audibly chocked when I read this @nikethestatue (btw everything said in this post was on point). No but seriously this is how they sound, too many of them insisting that there is nothing wrong with basing the likelihood of a ship on who has the more suitable uterus to be with a man... cause supposedly they're just picking up on the hints SJM wrote for them? She likes babies for HEAs so ofc children are the end all be all of a relationship, plus there's absolutely no way that she could ever write an adoption plot SJM is literally adopted and has done it in other series. Selective reading strikes again.

A minimum amount of critical thinking would tell you that 1) the infamous *magical uterus change* scene was about nessian (& feysand), not about any ship; 2) if SJM had written Nesta changing Elain's uterus, it would have given too much away, not to mention 3) how disturbing/violating it would have been for Nesta to change her sister's reproductive anatomy WITHOUT HER CONSENT?! None of it makes sense narratively; my girl Nes would never, especially given the trauma they both suffered from having their bodily autonomy--and so much more--ripped away by the Cauldron.

This argument is so trivialized that I see it every other day on reddit/tiktok/*insert media app*, and yet elriels are the toxic side of the fandom? The ones whom people are allowed to insult, to ridicule for theories all made in good fun, the women that are villainized over a difference of opinion? Don't get me wrong, there's assholes on both sides and people keep calling one another variations of delulu (and the nastier personal attacks). But by painting this fandom-wide villain there is such a lack of accountability for the plethora of harmful talking points spread by other portions of the fandom. (I've been silently reading the anti-elain & anti-elriel tags for like a year, and I'm on tiktok. Yes, I have self-destructive tendencies).

Anyways.

I never understood either how people ever actually thought (or well still think) that gwynriel would happen BEFORE elucien?? It makes no sense logically, narratively, or in terms of characterization & the arc she's set up for Elain, Azriel, and Lucien. Yet it took one controversial bonus chapter for people to decenter Elain in her own story, that is make her choice of romantic partner--which SJM spent 3+ books setting up--Azriel's. It took one bonus chapter that soo many readers are still unaware of, to brush Elain off as a "sexual object" Az is using to distract himself until his therapist-extraordinaire Gwyn comes in and heals him all up. Because ofc she will: she's badass and not the "passive and weak and boring" Eplain (aka "Plant" or "brain dead gardener"), she fits the YA archetype of the spunky warrior-girl so she can handle his darkness, and SJM supposedly spent time fleshing her out because she wrote her as a LI for Azriel; she's made for him, she is what he needs to grow (I actually enjoyed Gwyn's character btw, just pointing out how silly it all sounds). “Next book is a love triangle between Elain/Az/Gwyn” “Elain will turn evil or is secretly evil”. So you're telling me that SJM would pit Elain & Gwyn against each other in a love triangle over a man... all because of a necklace that was not even mentioned once in the actual books? Please, let's be logical for a second.

All this because instead of reading the bonus chapter in the context of the books, some people are reading the books in the context of the bonus chapter. Which now that I think of it is probably why so many people mischaracterize Az the way they do--because yes we know enough of his character to know half of the stuff the fandom diagnoses him with is questionable. Azriel? Entitled incel x fuckboy hybrid (gotta be the first of his kind, minute slay ig)? Interesting tell me more. No joke I saw a semi-popular post on here where a gwynriel said they read the bonus WITHOUT HAVING READ ANY OF THE BOOKS. I'm sorry, ship wars are silly and believe it or not idc who ppl ship, but it makes it hard to take some of the things they say seriously.

All this to say that the fandom isn't even debating the right thing. If you consider everything SJM has said in her interviews:

(she's been planting seeds for Nesta & Elain's book since acomaf; she knows who she is writing the first 2 books about + is keeping things open for the 3rd one--with 5 different ship options--which automatically rules out "Elain will close the series"; she said she's doing research for Elain's book in the ACOFAS bonus & there's seeds for future bookS in acofas; all she said recently about her beloved *heroines* and the themes of fate/true love/choice she finds *very* interesting & wants to discuss)

and if you also consider all she's written in the actual books (elain's characterization + the overarching plot in general & how she fits into it), then it's pretty evident that Elain's book is next.

The question then would be who is the MMC / 2nd PoV in her book, aka would acotar 5 be an elucien or an elriel story? Because logically, gwynriel was always a consequence of elucien. I honestly do not understand how people don't see that.

Oh and they always think they're gagging elriels with the "obviously Azriel is the next MC" as if elriels aren't saying the same thing? And we're the ones twisting info and not making sense. It's just funny at this point.

---sidenote: I realize that this post generalizes some things, and I just wanted to say that I have interacted with lovely eluciens / people on either side of this headache of a ship war. My hard limit is Elain haters though... back off I say 🤺 BACK OFF 🤺

---sidenote 2: I would have written this as a reblog except im not entirely sure how tumblr works and I get no visibility from them rip.

#please be so for real rn #elain archeron #anti gwynriel #anti nonsense #acotar 5 #elriel #pro elriel #pro elain #pro azriel #sjm interview #azriel bonus chapter #nesta archeron #elucien

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theerurishipper · 9 months

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This is just an unstructured, incoherent vent post, but I've seen a few posts recently about how Adrien would definitely forgive Marinette for keeping secrets from him because he loves her, or that he would blame himself for not noticing what was going on and not her. And those aren't wrong, per se, but this is what I mean by the show taking away Adrien's agency. Ultimately his choices are allowed only as far as they do not inconvenience Marinette or anyone else the narrative cares about, like Felix or Nathalie. Which is why Adrien is not allowed to grow, he is not allowed to prioritize his own feelings and emotional needs. Any wrong done to him is resolved by him putting aside his own feelings to forgive the people who wronged him. And yes, he has been taught that his feelings don't matter by Gabriel and that he should bend over to the whims of everybody around him. And that kind of makes it worse, how the effect of Gabriel's abuse is used to convenience everyone around him. I think it's gross.

Just look at the Ladynoir conflict from Season 4. Adrien brings up his grievances with Ladybug's treatment of him a few times, but ultimately, he ends up putting it aside to focus on her emotional needs when she is at her lowest. Kuro Neko gave us the message that it wasn't that Ladybug was treating Chat Noir unfairly, but that Chat Noir should stop expecting to be treated with respect and should stop having emotional needs. And at the end of Strikeback, nothing is resolved, Ladybug hasn't apologized to him or resolved to do better by him, but he still shows up to her side to comfort her. No, she didn't apologize to him. She admitted her mistakes but did little to correct them even after the fact. That whole arc ended with Chat Noir being treated poorly over and over, and yet coming back to Ladybug's side because he's such a good partner and he loves her so much.

And Adrien, a character who has been forced his whole life to bend to the whims of others to please them at his expense is doing the same thing to Ladybug. Adrien exhibiting this behavior is 100% a trauma response. Ladybug is supposed to be his escape from his abusive homelife. And yet, the show writes him falling back into his trauma responses with her (Kuro Neko) and does jack shit to portray it as a bad thing. And the Season 4 finale is once again Adrien putting aside his feelings and showing up to support her. Adrien's emotions are not validated, they are tossed aside. Ladybug admitted her mistakes as she did several times through Season 4, but she still did little to correct them. That admission in Strikeback doesn't do much, because we never see her do anything to fix her mistakes after that. What happened was that Chat Noir saw her in distress and decided his feelings were unimportant because she needed support.

This is not healthy. Adrien should not be invalidating his own feelings so that he can offer comfort to others. He shouldn't forget and forgive so quickly without the other person doing anything to correct their behavior towards him. Once again, this is how Gabriel has taught him to behave, to stop "being so emotional" and to conform to his expectations. And Adrien continuously downplays his own issues for others' sake. And obviously, we would understand that he can heal from this, that he can learn to take care of his own emotional needs first.

And quite frankly, all the posts about how we shouldn't want Adrien and Marinette to break up, or how we shouldn't be so hard on Marinette, or that she is just a child in tough situation, or that she is doing it out of love and that Adrien would forgive her kinda make my point. Because let's be real. What Marinette did is a serious breach of trust. I do not understand how anyone could forgive something like that quickly. And I understand why she did it. I don't think she is a bad person or anything like that. But it's still an awful thing to do. And frankly, I don't see how Adrien could just... instantaneously forgive her without invalidating and downplaying his own pain and hurt. If he did, I would seriously question his self-worth. And while I don't think Adrien would never forgive Marinette or that he would stop loving her, frankly, I would like to see more acknowledgement of his feelings and his emotional needs both from the fandom and the show. I would like to see that his feelings matter, that he is allowed to be angry and that he is allowed to hold people accountable and call them out. I would like for him to not forgive some people. I would like for him to require distance and space from them. That would be development for Adrien, to let himself be emotional and not feel the need to put his own needs aside for others.

But for Adrien to prioritize himself, it would mean acknowledging the harmful things characters like Marinette have done to him. And that can't happen, because all the purpose Adrien serves is as a plot device to connect Marinette to Gabriel, and actually having her be held accountable by the narrative for her choices is a big no no. Growth for Adrien would mean that he lets himself be angry at Marinette for how she kept secrets from him, never apologized for it, and ultimately ended up keeping the greatest secret of all from him about his father and the fact that he is a Sentimonster. But as the writing to this point shows, Marinette isn't a safe space for him where he is allowed to be himself. She is someone who also elicits his trauma responses from him. He doesn't let himself be angry with her, he always puts himself last when it comes to her.

I am not saying Marinette is in any way comparable to Gabriel. She is nowhere as bad as him, she does not come close to that in any way. Marinette is a good person. But what she did in the finale, is explicitly something that Gabriel wanted her to do. Gabriel wanted to continue to dictate his son's emotions and perceptions, and Marinette helped him do it. That's not a healthy relationship. And looking at all the Marinette-Gabriel parallels in Season 5... it's not a good look at all. The show portrays Adrien as someone who has been denied autonomy his whole life, and as someone who is expected to cater to the desires of the people around him and be perfect for them while neglecting his emotional needs, and made his arc one of finding independence and his own identity and learning that his feelings and desires matter. But also, they only matter as far as they don't inconvenience Marinette. Adrien shouldn't downplay his feelings, but if doing so would help Marinette, then he should do it actually. And it's hard for me not to see it as Ladybug benefitting from his trauma from his abusive home. It sounds harsh, but that's how it feels.

And all the talk of how Adrien would never hate Marinette and that he would forgive her is... disappointing to me. Because I don't necessarily disagree, but it still is about prioritizing Marinette's feelings over Adrien's. What is focused on is not how Adrien might feel betrayed, but how Marinette might feel sad about Adrien feeling betrayed by her, and reinforces that Adrien is so good because he would not hold it against her. Even though he should, even though it means he would be downplaying his pain massively if he didn't blame her for that. If Adrien's character should develop, he should be allowed to realize that he has the right to get angry and that he doesn't have to downplay his emotions or feel like it's all his fault. He should be allowed to do that without people jumping to Marinette's defense and excusing her of blame.

Throughout the series, Adrien has been the person to help Ladybug through her problems, and the narrative has never allowed her to do the same for him. And I want to see focus on Adrien for a change. I want to see someone other than Plagg reassuring him and supporting him, especially his partner. I want to see the narrative be less about "oh, Adrien would never hold anything against Marinette because he loves her and would understand her always," and be more "actually Adrien is allowed to prioritize his feelings and want distance from Marinette after she betrayed him in such a personal way." That would be development. That would be reclaiming his agency. That would be free will and autonomy. I would like to see focus on this in the show and the fandom.

Adrien is not obligated to forgive Marinette. He is not obligated to understand her reasonings for why she did what she did. He is allowed to be angry at her and express his hurt because of her actions. Seasons 4 and 5 have regrettably established Marinette as someone else who denies Adrien's agency and around whom he reverts back to his fawning trauma response, and quite frankly the best thing for him to do would be to break up with her and go find himself on his own terms. I want his character to develop and grow, and unfortunately, Seasons 4 and 5 proved to me that it would not be possible as long as he is around Marinette, both from a character and narrative standpoint.

I just wish people would acknowledge and validate Adrien's perspective and feelings more. Even if it means calling out Marinette. Gabe is Adrien's abuser but he isn't the only one who has hurt Adrien in the story. Marinette is an incredible and amazing person but as far as we've reached in the show, she is hurting Adrien. And she has done many things across these two seasons that violate Adrien's trust. It's not even that this is a mistake she could learn from, but that she has done several such things over and over. From keeping secrets about the Miraculous holders' identities even though Hawkmoth himself knew, to Rena Furtive, to trying to trick him into an identity reveal in Ephemeral, and now keeping the fact that he is a Sentimonster and that Gabe is Monarch from him. It's gone from secret keeping to outright lying to him. It is not healthy. And it is a sign of stagnation and regression in Adrien's growth if he continues to keep forgiving her over and over again despite her never fixing her behavior.

If Adrien's arc is about finding autonomy, then he cannot be with someone who is complicit in denying him the ability to make his own choices. If Marinette was supposed to be the knight in shining armor, they shouldn't have given her the key to the tower and have her hide it away. If she was supposed to save him, they shouldn't have had her condemn him further. If Marinette was supposed to be the one who helped Adrien regain his self worth, the person whom he could trust and rely on the most, they shouldn't have made her side with Gabe, deny Adrien his agency, and violate his trust so many times.

It didn't have to be written this way, but these were the decisions made by the writers. They chose to portray Marinette like this for no discernable reason and refused to acknowledge it or deal with it meaningfully. Adrienette is so profoundly unhealthy now that if Adrien's character is to grow, the only way for him to do that is to break up with Marinette. But the show has also made it very clear that Adrien is only a plot device and a trophy for Marinette at the end. So I have no doubt that all will be forgiven in a matter of minutes, and the narrative will praise Adrien for being traumatized and denying his own emotional needs to comfort Marinette as she feels bad for hurting him. And it's sad, but I guess it is what it is.

#MLB #Meta #My meta #S5 Finale #ML Salt #ML Writing Salt #ML Fandom Salt #Marinette Salt #Not really but tagging to be safe #Ladynoir conflict

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whatudowhennooneseesyou · 1 year

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Late Bloomer Boyfriend: Bang Chan

Disclaimer: This post is for entertainment purposes only. Think about it. Have hard thoughts. Don't take it too seriously.

18+ only.

Also, this pic...omg, it makes me want to write a 10 day Daddy!Chan series because I am drooling violently.

I am going to tentatively say that out all of my late bloomer boyfriend analysis THUS FAR.

Bang Chan.

Daddy Chan.

Would be THE BEST late bloomer boyfriend and here is WHY...

Firstly, the man has a very obvious caregiver complex (at least, I think it's very obvious) and so he naturally attracts/is attracted to people who don't feel understood or 'seen' in life because his Libra stellium naturally makes him very empathetic and a naturally caring person.

People who tend to be a 'late bloomer' in life usually do have some insecurities about themselves because it's just almost impossible not too??

And Bang Chan's Mars in the 7th House means he is attracted to transformative relationships and people that help him 'grow' and discover traits and flaws about himself.

Being someone's first ever partner would encourage Bang Chan to hone different skills like patience, communication and emotional intimacy whilst also encouraging him to discover different parts of himself.

You would be his own personal project in a way, which can be seen as positive or negative depending on Chan's maturity level.

At Chan's worst, he could see you as a project to 'fix' or a vision to work on because it helps him build his self-esteem, that he's helping someone 'heal' and he could unconsciously put you into 'victim' mode and cause you to unnecessarily restrict yourself, just show he can come back and 'fix' you again.

Bang Chan would be a great 'first ever' boyfriend those little 'milestones' in relationships that experienced people might take for granted, he would celebrate them with you.

He's the first man you bring home to your family? You'll best believe he'll dress up and maybe even bring some flowers.

It's your first Valentines Day ever with a partner? He'll go all out and make it the most cliche and corniest of experiences ever.

Okay, let's talk about the seggsy stuff.

Look, the whole 'Daddy' persona is not as far-fetched as we believe.

I'm not going to say that Chan 100% has a thing for being called 'Daddy'.

But the chances of him enjoying it are pretty high.

And I also have to point out that I'm not saying that Chan would be into age-play or ddlg, I'm saying that Chan would probably enjoy being called 'Daddy' as a term of endearment.

Because I have to continuously say this but age-play/age regression is a form of lifestyle whereas calling someone 'Daddy' only in intimate situations is just a term of authority.

Chan would enjoy knowing that he's being the first to explore this area with you, to show you things you haven't discovered for yourself, to see you react to him and only him.

'How does that feel babygirl? Does that feel good? You look so beautiful under me right now, doing so well'.

And with Chan, it would seem like he's cool right? That he has everything under control.

But his cool persona hides a lot of emotional temperament and a constant desire to feel NEEDED.

And you best believe this side of him would show when you're under the sheets with him.

'Babygirl, you need Daddy to make you feel good don't you? You need me to take care of you and I will, whenever you need because you're MY babygirl'.

Now, on a worst level.

Chan could weaponise your inexperience and use it against you, manipulate and victimise you into how much you need him in your life.

'You couldn't even make yourself cum if it weren't for my help. You could never take care of yourself like how I can take care of you'

But on a positive level,

You would feel SAFE, protected, nurtured and appreciated, Chan's love for you would be so powerful, you would never ever doubt his affection for you.

'You make me so happy, I just want to care for you, protect you, love you. Are you going to let me babygirl?'

I also LOATHE the term 'babygirl'.

But it's just such a Chan thing to say, he is the only one that can make the term sound so sweet and sexy.

Taglist: @destiny-fics @umbralhelwolf @starsareseen @hipster-shiz @creativechaoticloner @cherry-0420 @lino-jagiyaa @mischiefsmind @scuzmunkie @mrcarrots @reighlee-greaves @junieshohoho @partywithgyu @kodzukein @whatsk-poppinhomies @yeosdarling @hologramhoneymoon @dilucpegg3r @marievllr-abg @craxy-person @itbtoblikethatsometimes @gyuhanniescarat @staytinyinmybpack @thirstybchanstan @necessiteez @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @hijeongguk @berryberrytan @notastraykid @sensitiveandhungry @laylasbunbunny @muselin @bluelove24 @sometimesiwritethings

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rogerswifesblog · 1 year

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Ok playing on the secret girlfriend thing: what if she's his emergency contact and the first time the team meets her is when she's called because Steve got injured. Cue the avengers meeting a heavily pregnant girlfriend/ fiance

Oh yes-I got a request about something similar and I think I’ll post it today or tomorrow, I’ve already started writing it👀

Steve’s a very careful man, when it comes to his girlfriend, well, fiancé.

He’d be scared of loosing you. You made him realise, he could actually be a normal man besides being a national hero; Captain America.

Even though he was a super soldier and healed much quicker than a average person, you still liked taking care of his cuts, when he cut his finger helping you with cooking-but it was also the reason he was banned from the kitchen.

He may be Captain America, but deep down, he was just Steve, the clumsy Brooklyn boy, you’ve totally fallen for. And who could cook for dear life.

You always massaged his tense shoulders and back.

You treated him like a normal human being-that’s why he didn’t want you to be a part of his life as Captain America. He wanted you to himself. And he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you.

Steve even thought about putting the shield down and moving with you, somewhere where you two could just be yourselves. Happily together.

It’s not like nobody knew about you relationship-your family knew. And they loved Steve. Especially your grandma. She always sat down with Steve and they talked about the old times. Your mother loved him too. She saw how good he treated you. And the two women also loved how much he could eat. Your grandma loved having him over, because she could prepare much more food, than she’d Normally would. Even your dad approved-especially after Steve let him drive his motorcycle a few times.

They wanted him in the family.

Then it finally happened.

After being together for two years he asked you to spend the rest of your life with him.

Without a second of hesitation you said yes.

A few weeks later he noticed your odd behaviour. You slept more, eat stuff you’ve normally wouldn’t even touch-for example olives. You didn’t like them, he knew it, because you always left them for him. And then there was this constant morning sickness…

Only a few days later you told him you were pregnant, giving him a shirt, with a text on it, saying; best dad ever.

He cried tears of joy, hugging you for a long time and talking to your tummy, even though your baby was still only a the size of a little bean.

Steve watched your belly grow, getting rounder. The first time your baby kicked-actually kicking his cheek-he looked slightly offended and then surprised at your stomach. “Oh god-did she-“, you nodded, grinning at him. He started kissing you and your belly softly.

Once again he cried, like like many times in the last few months. He’d never thought he could have this, a family, a normal life.

What he hadn’t expected was a emergency mission, about a HYDRA basis in Europe, with apparently many hostages.

He had to go.

But after two weeks he still hadn’t texted you. The worst scenarios played out in your head. It happened. Steve wouldn’t come back.

You’d be a single mom, not even married, because you fiancé had to-

Your phone ringing interrupted your pacing, while you were stroking your belly, to calm down your sweetheart. It’s like your baby felt your anxiety and was as you were.

“Oh god, Steve, I was scared”, you cried into the phone, when you saw his contact pop up. But it wasn’t Steve’s voice that answered. “Excuse me, this is doctor Cho. You’re Steve’s emergency contact and-“ “I-I’m on my way.” You said, already putting on your shoes, which wasn’t all that easy having a stomach the size of a watermelon. This child was huge. It’s definitely Steve’s kid. There was definitely some kind of serum in this child.

It took you forty minutes till you finally entered the Stark tower. Normally you’d drive faster, but you didn’t want to risk anything happening.

Pepper Potts was the one coming for you-she definitely looked surprised, but tried not to show it. You knew Steve hadn’t told anyone about…well, you.

“Steve’s emergency contact-“ “Y/N, yes. I’m…im his fiancé”, you said, feeling blood rush to your cheeks, while you gently rubbed over your round tummy. Pepper smiled friendly and nodded. “Great, let’s go then”, with that you entered the elevator, letting the AL bring you to the needed floor.

She looked at your round stomach for a moment, a wide smile on her rosy lips. Especially when she saw the ring in your hand, when you rubbed over your tummy, where your babygirl was kicking.

“What happened to Steve? Is he-“ “he’s alive, but hurt. During the mission he tried to get all hostages out of the building-after getting the last one out he run back in, nobody know why. Then the building collapsed and they couldn’t find him for two days. Three of his ribs are broken, his leg and he had a concussion-they also had a scare his kidneys would fail, but luckily they manage to stop any more damage. Hes just out of surgery-we would have called you sooner, but it all happened so quickly, nobody really ex-“, pepper broke her sentence abruptly, looking away. “Nobody expected him to have a emergency contact?”, you asked quietly.

Pepper nodded, already apologising, but you dismissed her smiling, telling her you knew, they didn’t know about you.

Walking into Steve’s room, your gaze fell on all the avengers sitting around him. Everyone seemed to be bruised and injuries, but nobody looked as bad as Steve.

You gasped quietly, making everyone look at you.

Only the beeping of the monitor could be heard. Bruce immediately stood up, offering you his chair, making you smile kindly, while your eyes filled with tears.

Everyone just watched you sit down. They were surprised. Shocked even.

How could Steve hide a girlfriend-a pregnant girlfriend for this long? Looking at your round belly it had to be at least seven months. Maybe more.

Tony was the first one to talk. “So nobody’s gonna talk about Steve’s apparently knocked up girlfriend, who he kept-owch”, pepper slapped the back of his head, making him wince. You chuckled quietly.

Steve had told you, Tony was very….Tony.

But it felt good, to laugh after having been scared for so long.

“I’m actually not his knocked up girlfriend-“, all eyes were on you. Shocked-only Natasha seemed to have a cocky smirk on her face, because she saw the ring on your finger. You lifted your hand, showing it to the others. A bright smile on your face. “I’m his knocked up fiancé.”

The team laughed quietly, already loving you.

There were many more questions about your relationship and baby-and just about you.

After about two hours Steve started waking up, feeling a hand holding his, he gently squeezed, interrupting your story about how Steve once nearly set the kitchen on fire.

“Oh god, Steve”, you gasped, watching his eyes flutter open. Slightly confused he looked at you, then at the other. Under the bruised skin you could tell he was blushing. He cleared his throat. “I guess…I guess you meat the team”, he mumbled, feeling how dry his throat was. Bruce gave you a cup with water and a straw, for you to help Steve drink something. “Yes, Steve, I was just telling them how you set the kitchen on fire-for the first time” “first time? How often did it happen?”, interrupted Tony you, making Steve whine quietly. Tony wouldn’t never forget about it-not after Steve nearly set his kitchen on fire, too.

“But Steve, really. You should’ve bring your midgardian girlfriend in sooner. She’s great”, Thor said, patting his leg with more force that necessary, making Steve wince.

After Steve drank enough, you put the cup away. “Why did you run back into the building?”, you asked him, gently squeezing his hand. He looked away for a moment, but then back at you. “I nearly lost the picture”, he mumbled, confusing the team. You knew what he meant; the first ultrasound.

Sighing you gave him a gentle kiss on the forehead, sitting on the bed next to him, and putting his hand on your belly. “You’ll never do that again, do you hear me? A picture is not worth losing your life, got it? Our girl needs her daddy in her life. And the next time you do something this reckless, I’ll kick your ass. Pregnant or not”, you mumbled everything gently, making him swallow hard. The others watched amused, while Steve nodded. “Yeah okay”, you raised your eyebrows.

“Yes, Ma’am, I’m sorry. It won’t happen again-“

“Oh we’re so keeping her-owwch, Pepper!”

😍

#steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fluff #flood my inbox #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x pregnant reader

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