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juneipertree · 5 months

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My Entire Life, Start to Finish

Years Zero to Five

Infant reflexes

I, Ruby Juniper Georgina Hosick-Dunn was born a (mostly) healthy baby at six pounds and nine ounces. I was two weeks late, brutally forced out of my Mother by oxytocin and the brute strength that is the female body into this world. I was kicking and moving but one crucial thing was noticeable, I was not screaming, my umbilical cord had managed to find its way around my neck and was, literally, sucking the life out of me before I could even get a taste for it, for about thirty seconds until my doctor whisked me away and gave me new life. After that I was okay. I was instantly grasping, rooting, and sucking for my mom. When I asked about the moro, stepping, and babinski reflex my parents genuinely could not recall any conversations about them but my Mum says that I was a healthy, average baby who definitely hit all these requirements.

^ two day old Ruby and Dad!

Attachment & Stranger anxiety

Starting as an infant I was very attached to my Mum, being a stay-at-home parent while my Dad was working at CITR. When I was six weeks old I got really sick, it turned out to be a very nasty flu but before they figured it out my Mum and I had to be isolated while every medical test possible was administered to me. I can’t imagine how scary this was to my new young parents but I do know it started a very intense attachment for both me and my Mum. I did, however, have absolutely no stranger anxiety, I would interact with anyone and was never scared when strangers would hold me or talk to me. My Mum says that once I could talk (which was much earlier than other kids, about a year I could say very basic caveman speech) I would speak to every person I would see in grocery stores, parks, or wherever we went.

^ three months old being sociable and showing off my stepping reflex

Erik Erikson #1 Trust vs. Mistrust

This one is a no-brainer; I was so cared for and loved I trusted people and was never scared of the world as a child.

Imprinting & Contact Comfort

I absolutely imprinted onto my parents, and also on a select few of my parents’ friends whom I would consider family to this day, I have been surrounded by people, whether they are blood-related to me or not the people I would still consider my family to this day.

My parents have always been super cuddly, I was never not being held growing up and I am so grateful for it because it has definitely made my love language physical touch. I was a baby with a secure attachment to my parents, so much so my parents could never leave me because I would scream and cry instantly without them, even when I was just going to sleep, I would not sleep if they weren't with me.

Jean Piaget’s Cognitive Sensorimotor Stage

Touching, feeling, sucking, I was a curious child who wanted to learn everything. Object permanence is still a problem for me now but I do remember playing peek-a-boo a lot when I was young.

^ age three!

Kohlberg Morality - Preconventional

"Clean your toys or no dessert", "Eat your vegetables or no TV". When I was very small my mum's word was law. I was a very good child who always listened and I never wanted punishment, I didn't like upsetting my parents which is definitely something they instilled in me. When my morality developed I quickly learned that if I did good things than my parents would praise me or my teachers would like me more and give me an extra cookie at preschool or let me be the first in line to recess.

Erik Erikson #2 Autonomy vs. Shame and Doubt

I was properly potty trained with bribery, the movie Happy Feet was the bargaining chip in question. This made me confident and outspoken as a child, I knew what I liked and disliked and could express myself easily

Motor Development

After asking my Mum all about my infancy I have come to the conclusion that I was a pretty average baby, which I can only imagine was a huge relief to my parents. I hit all of my six motor milestones I could sit all by myself at four months and stand with help at six months. Now one thing I never did was crawl. Around five months old, I would scoot around, with one leg in front of me and one behind I would essentially use my baby arm’s brute strength to propel myself in whatever direction and it was so fast and efficient that I just never wanted to crawl. Arms reaching and hands being held I could walk with the help of someone by eight months and I could push myself to stand by a year but I was a very late bloomer when it came to walking. My hips took a bit longer to develop than others and were too loose to hold my body weight so I was a very late walker at eighteen months.

^ This is the scooting position, do NOT ask me to recreate this I don't even know how I did it

Erik Erikson #3 Initiative vs. Guilt

I was a very active and social child, I actually kicked a boy in the nuts at preschool when he told me I couldn't join his club because it was "no girls allowed" and I thought that was unfair, which seems pretty assertive.

^ The dress I wore when it happened

Years Six to Ten

Parenting styles

I think my parents tried hard when I was young to have a very authoritative parenting style with me, my parents would always tell me that all I had to do was “be the best ruby I could be” which established a very intrinsic motivation in me from a young age, I tried to do the best I could at everything I did and even if I wasn’t the fastest reader or the best speller I was still often proud of myself because I did the best I could do. Things did change however when I was diagnosed with epilepsy my parents definitely took a dip into the authoritarian side, it’s understandable why but they became much more strict and helicopter-y which became a much bigger issue when I entered teenagerhood and was desperate for some room to breathe.

Jean Piaget's Preoperational stage

I actually remember being so frustrated with my friends when I had little spats with them, why couldn't they see what I saw? And understand what I was thinking and saying? Which I know now is egocentrism. I also remember always choosing the taller glasses as a child because I thought there was more. My stuffed animals came everywhere with me, I would speak to them and throw tea parties because (now I know it as animism) in my mind their feelings and thoughts were just like mine.

I wish I could say I remember the Concrete Operational Stage but the ages seven to twelve are honestly a massive blur of emotions and hospital visits and I have kinda blacked out that time.

^ first day of kindergarten!

Erik Erikson #4 Industry vs. Inferiority

In elementary school I was pretty badly teased, kids are mean and they did what they did but that ridicule did make me doubt all of the activities I enjoyed doing. I liked dancing but I wasn't the best so I quit, I liked painting but I was nowhere as good as one of my friends so I just stopped doing what I enjoyed.

^ All the wires they used for my EEG at the hospital when I was diagnosed

Years Ten to Fifteen

Jean Piagets Formal Operational stage

Finally, I would like to think my cognitive development is quite advanced. One thing I do really remember from that time is having a very vivid imagination. I could zone out and create long detailed stories in my mind about anything, they definitely also worked as a coping mechanism for myself.

^ ten-year-old ruby

Kohlberg Morality - Conventional

This stage is a weird one, when I was in my early preteen years I wanted so desperately for people to like and approve of me so I really tried to follow social norms to be considered nice, and that worked for a while until I got bullied and I got angry. It was too hard to justify maintaining a social order when bad things were happening to me and others. This was the beginning of my intense obsession with social justice.

Years Fifteen to Twenty

Five stages of grief

I have lost someone in my life, my grandma or Dida (grandma in Bengali) as I called her. She wasn't biologically related to me but it was the sweetest, most caring, strongest person I have ever met in my life and unfortunately, she developed Alzheimer's and decided to get a medically assisted death. Coping with this, being the first person to die in my life was weird. I never really felt the denial, my first stage was anger, I was, one of the last people in my family to hear about it and I was furious, finding out about a month before gave me absolutely no time to prepare while others in my family had up to a year. And yes they had their reasons but it really made me feel like a child, that my parents couldn't trust me with this information. Leading up to her death I kept bargaining with myself, the longer I prolonged seeing her the more I could pretend she wasn’t going to die. After the depression, I just didn’t feel good for a long time. I have struggled with long depressive episodes before and this definitely set me off it wasn't until around the summer I actually started to feel the acceptance that she was gone.

^ Dida and I circa.

Erik Erikson #5 Identity vs. Confusion

I am currently in this stage of my life, and I would like to think I now have a strong sense of identity, my earlier teenage years were filled with many insecurities surrounding myself and how I perceived the world around me but it got better and I feel much more at peace with myself now.

^ Ruby twelve, figuring it out

^ Me now, a hell of a lot more confident

Bucket list #1 - Move to Montreal

I want to go there so badly, something about the city life and the queer community is so enticing. I think I'll move out permanently by the time I'm twenty.

Years Thirty to Fifty

Kohlberg Morality - Postconventional

I think now I have a very abstract view of morality. I have my morals and I know that others have different ones but I am quite biased to my own. I think that everyone should have equal basic rights and the fact that society doesn't all agree is the bane of my existence. I also believe that even if some actions aren't the most stereotypically ethical they are still moral. Like looking the other way when someone in need is stealing from a grocery store because food is too expensive and people need to eat.

Erik Erikson #6 Intimacy vs. Isolation

I am praying that my sense of self is strong enough that I'll be able to form strong committed relationships. I know many people say this but I truly think I will continue my friendships after high school, I feel so connected with my friends I truly can't imagine living without them.

Middle ages

I, obviously, can’t predict the future but from my mum's experience entering my middle ages I will most likely have some problems with my hormones again, my Mum experienced significant weight gain and and also a pretty early start to menopause (which I wouldn’t mind at all). I never wanted children growing up, I love kids I think they’re fun but pregnancy really freaks me out. The way it can permanently alter things like what I like to eat, or how I smell things, and also all the health effects and mood changes is just not something I really wish to put my body through. I would like to start a family when I’m around thirty-five but if it's going to be my biological children, helping foster kids or just adopting eight cats is still up for debate. I also want to have a career, I proper job that I can work for and build up in my thirties.

^ jumpscare! This is what an app says I will look like when I'm old

Years Fifty to The End

Erik Erikson #7 Generativity vs. Stagnation

I want to do something that will help people, whether it's being a therapist, school counselor, or social worker I want to do something for change and hopefully, that will make me feel like I have contributed something. Bucket list #2 (Go to a fashion week) would also make me feel like I've been to one cultural event somewhere.

Empty Nest Syndrome

How will I cope? Get a couple cats, start a book club, get more cats.

Old age - health & senility

I am absolutely going to go deaf, or at least have a hearing impairment into my old age. I love music and concerts and the best way to really feel it in my bones and soul is to listen to it as loudly as possible I do wear earplugs when I go to punk shows but I also know I am not the most proactive about it. When I'm older I plan to be however right now, consequences are dammed.

^ The obsession started young

To prevent one of my worst nightmares (Alzhiemers) one of the things I will do for the rest of my life is play word games, the New York Times has free crosswords, sudoku, and other word games that I love to play, and also keep my brain active, especially if I retire in my eighties (in this economy??) so I will continue that until I can no longer, I also read a lot, and I think that will continue to keep my brain stimulated and not go senile. Maybe bucket list #4 - learning an ancient language will help.

Erik Erikson #8 Integrity vs. Despair

I am very scared of death. So who knows how I will feel but I do know whatever I do I will be proud of myself and the life I have created for myself because I am too stubborn and determined to not have the life I want.

The End

I am absolutely terrified of death, every night I remember that there is a possibility I won’t wake up and all of my thoughts, everything I have ever felt will just disappear forever how fun is that thought? My biological grandma died from an aneurysm when she was in her fifties so there is a high chance of that happening. On my father’s side, his Mum died of ovarian cancer so that is also something for me to watch out for! I would like to live for as long as I possibly can, I will have to go with cancer as my way out, it makes the most sense, it quite possibly might be from all the chemicals and radiation all my technology emits but talking about it makes me sound like a boomer.

Hopefully, I will have completed bucket list item #3 (Read as many books as I possibly can) and have made some impact in this world

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dimensionwriter · 3 years

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100 Days

Part Three

Part One Part Two

M! Alien x GN! Reader

Warning: pinning

Word Count: 2296

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Today’s the day. A whole month has passed since Experiment 337 became conscious, therefore that means that he is now in the clear to be able to leave his containment. The reasoning for the 30 day period is to see if the alien holds the ability to breath in our atmosphere. So, slowly throughout 25 days, the liquid in the container gains more oxygen, nitrogen, and carbon dioxide until it reaches the point of similarities with Earth’s. Then the final 5 days are just checking on the vitals and making sure there are no complications.

And Shark was able to withstand it! Of course Shark would. There was no doubt in your head that that crazy alien wouldn’t be able to. He’s amazing like that.

Do you know how hard it is to try to look professional and calm while speed walking down the halls? Every time someone would stop to ask you something, you did not stop. You would yell the answer or tell them the name of someone who may know the answer while you were way past them. Luckily, no one pointed out how weird you look speeding to your door.

“Examiner, good morning. You made it just in time,” A low voice spoke to you. You looked away from your door to see your vector’s manager walking towards you. He was the one who’s always speaking through your earpiece. You assumed that he wouldn’t bother you anymore, except for meetings, since Shark was now conscious, but seeing him walk towards you told you that he must have found something new that interested him. Sadly, it must have included you.

“Morning, sir. Have they already started the movement?” You scanned your ID card across the reader causing the door to open. Stepping through, you were met with what felt like a completely different room. The container was broken down into its four glass panels and were laying on the floor in the corner. Your computer was now moved into the corner with a wall around it with windows that peered out into the room. In the middle, was a long table that had the main attraction on it.

Shark was still fast asleep, thanks to the sleeping medicine still being pumped into him. His grayish blue skin seems to look almost matte out of the liquid. Glancing at his limb, the black color that it turned to was a completely different texture. What type would it be most similar like?

“Morning, Examiner. We are almost done here. I am changing their vital readers to be inside of them , so there won’t be cords everywhere that could trip you. I have also added a microchip in their neck, just in case they try to escape. It’ll send a big enough shock to take down an elephant,” The vector’s doctor explained walking around Shark and pointing them out. So he had vital readers in his right thigh, middle left arm, and one in the center of his chest.

“Thank you so much. I’m so sorry I wasn’t able to help you guys,” You apologize seeing how much was done without you. You walked over to your metal closet to put away your personal belongings and grab a fresh pair of lab coat and gloves. You actually get a chance to actually use the gloves.

You watched as your manager didn’t even try to put on any of the sterile clothes and just walked in. He’s the manager, so he should definitely know the rules, but is choosing to ignore it. This man sometimes gets on your nerves.

“So, this is the little shape shifting bastard,” your manager teased, poking Shark in his face. Not the bare hands. Who knows what germs this man has been exposed to and he’s directly making contact with the creature.

“Sir, I would advise that you do not touch Experiment 337 with your bare hands. It is unknown the result that may have on them,” the doctor spoke. The dark bags under their eyes made their statement feel a lot more firm then it would have coming from you. He may be the manager, but the vector’s nurse is equal to him.

He let out a small scoff and started walking around the room looking at things. The nurse went over to the corner room to probably make sure the vitals are actually reading correctly. With everyone busy, you walked over to Shark.

With the tips of your fingers, you brushed away at the spot the manager had touched. Woah. His skin was so cold. It felt like you were touching ice. Lightly, you trailed your fingers down his face to see that the texture was actually similar to something that was matte.

The skin underneath your finger begins to poof out. Looking back at his face, you see that his thin lips were spread out showing his sharp teeth. No way. You looked further up to see a pair of black eyes staring at you.

How was…. There can’t. You looked down to see that there was still a tube going up his back that was pumping the blue liquid. It has been confirmed that this formula worked good enough to put him to sleep. How was he awake?

“Do plan on bringing the bed in later today?” You watched as the manager walked towards the corner room, not noticing the two pairs of eyes on him. He disappeared around the corner and your head snapped down.

“You can resist the medicine,” you accused him. He gave a smirk and let out a quiet laugh. His top arms were folded across his stomach. He reached a little and grabbed the end of your lab coat and began twirling it.

“As I have stated before, Yeah and you can’t. It’s not my fault you humans are so, how do I say this kindly, incapable.” You didn’t even have it in you to argue with him. A million questions were flying through your head.

How did he stop the effects of the medicine? Does it have something to do with him being a shapeshifter? How long has he been doing this? Should you report this?

Wait, why are you doubting reporting this? This is definitely something that should be reported. If everyone thinks all aliens are asleep and there’s little security, he could become a real threat. Going rampant, freeing other aliens, or worse, going onto the outside.

Would he really be that much of a threat? He would probably just try to flirt with all of the security and get them to be his ‘mate’ or something.

“Darling, you look so cute when you think so hard,” his voice purred. You looked over at him to see he was smirking at you. His black eyes drifted down a little and that’s when you noticed that his hand holding your lab coat was raised up. He stretched his neck a little to look underneath it.

“What are you even looking at?” You held no personal items in your pants. Maybe he was analyzing the fabric of clothes better to recreate it better. Has he ever held this type of fabric before? You don’t really know where he came from or his history much. One day, you got a promotion to this vector to be an examiner and got assigned to him. No previous records were given to you.

“Nothing. Just enjoying the view,” he mumbled leaning a little farther over to look. Your brain seemed to freeze as you realized what he was doing. This pervert.

Stepping forward, you yanked your coat out of his hand and smacked the back of his hand. The corners of his eyes crinkled a little as he started to softly laugh. He was enjoying teasing you a little too much.

“Examiner?” You turned around to see the Nurse and the manager staring at you. You blinked in confusion at them. Why were they looking at you weird when Shark was clearly awake? “Can you please not smack the alien? They may be unconscious, but I’m sure they can still feel it?”

Unconscious? You turned around to see that Shark had his eyes closed and his arms back in place. It looked like he was truly ‘unconscious’ it wasn’t for the edges of his cheek twitching from trying to hold in his smile. He was trying to get you in trouble.

“I apologize. Thought I saw a bug or something on his skin. However, it was most likely his skin shifting around due to his ability to shapeshift." You hoped they didn't pick up on the bull crap you just let spewed from your mouth. It's one thing for a manager to touch him, but for a subordinate like yourself to slap him, that's an instant ticket to being written up.

"Bugs? Many workers have been moving in and out of this room. It's a small chance, but still is possible," they grumbled walking towards you. They glanced around the room before letting out a small sigh. "I'll make sure to send a cleaning crew in here just in case."

They actually brought it. You didn't know who to thank. Thank the nurse for being kind and not doubting you or the workers for moving around a lot. Well you thank both.

"Whelp, Examiner. Congrats on getting that thing to live for this long. Definitely thought the damn thing was going to kick the bucket ." His harsh laugh echoed through the room. You didn’t say anything, only allowed a tight lip smile to come on your face. The nurse just rolled their at his dumb statement.

“Examiner, you need to complete your training for in person examinations for Experiment 337,” the nurse reminded you. Their eyes drifted down to Shark next to you before looking back up at you. You swear you saw a small smirk appear on their face. “We will be outside waiting for you to finish up in here.”

They dropped their lab coat in the waste bin and slid their black gloves into their back pocket. Scanning their ID, the door slid open and they walked through. The manager appeared confused by their statement, so where you to be honest, but didn’t question it much and just walked out.

Did the nurse know that Shark was awake? If they actually knew, hopefully you won’t get into trouble for it. That would look so bad if you looked like you were hiding stuff for them and you could get written up, or worse, fired.

“Why do you always leave me?” You turned towards Shark to see he was sitting up now. You tilted your head up to be able to look him in the face. Something to document, he’s tall as hell. His torso to leg ratio is a little less even than humans. His legs are quite long and thick making you believe that’s where his height would mostly come from. But that theory is thrown into a fire seeing as his torso was the length of your entire upper body.

“Now that everyone has left the room, now you want to ogle my body. You perv,” he teased, covering his body with his six hands. The claws protruding out of them pressed into his grey skin. Small little bumps and rises appeared all over his skin. It really was like leather in a way. “Honey?”

“First, I know you didn’t just say I was ogling you. You were the one raising up my lab coat to look at me. You’re even more of a perv. Second, don’t call me honey. I don’t want anyone to hear you say that and get that wrong idea,” you ticked off with your finger. He unwrapped his first set of arms to let the elbows rest on his thighs. Gently, he rested his head on them and stared down at you.

“Then, can I call you babe, sugar plum, my starlight, darling, and/or angel? It would please me if all of the humans on this planet knew you were mine. And I do plan on making you mine,” he whispered. He leaned down towards you with a small smile on his face. In his dark eyes, you could see your reflection through them. Did you really look that flustered?

You stepped away from him and walked towards the door. You took off your lab coat while taking steady breaths. This is your job. You are getting paid to deal with this flirty alien. “Well, I see you're still stuck on that whole mate thing. While you continue to go on about that, I have work to do. See you later.”

You grabbed your ID to scan it when a hand landed on top of the scanner. Then another wrapped around your waist pulling you into a hard surface. Two hands went above you to the door while another grabbed your face to tilt it up.

“I’m not joking when I say you’re my mate. I’m adamant that you are and I don’t plan on letting you go.” His usual smile was wiped on his face, but instead a joyless frown was there. The sparkles in his eyes were all gone. He really was serious about this.

“Don’t worry. I’ll let you go. Just this time.” Every hand around you retreated back to him as he turned away from you. He walked towards the metal table with his tail low to the ground. “But next time, I would actually like some time with you. Please.”

All you could do was give him a small nod as you exited the room. Your mind felt fuzzy from trying to process everything. But you have plenty of time in the future to get answers to these questions.

70 days.

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I actually wrote something. It’s something short but I’m proud I actually did it. I miss Shark and this story. Hopefully, I’ll get to get something else out. Anyway, make sure to Like, Reblog, and Comment. I love to see you guy’s comments.

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insufferablelust · 4 years

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i have had this in my head for days now and i need to tell you about it lol so a lot of fics on here have the concept of being a brat and a bad girl and I love those but it got me thinking about spencer being with someone whos s u c h a good girl for him like the most obedient little girl who never breaks the rules no matter what he says or does and he absolutely loves it and he asks her why she never breaks the rules and whatever her submissive reply is makes him go FERAL

wow you’re a genius, i’m actually loving this piece so much because this is screaming me, i’m super subby it’s unbelievable🥺 anyways, i hope you enjoy love! thank you so much for the req and support, love you. xx MASTERLIST.

WARNINGS : Soft!Dom!Spencer x Sub!Reader, lots of praising so praise kink, soft cute dom and sub dynamic, oral (f receiving), bit of rough sex but its cute still, and pure submissive and dominant dynamics meaning it might seem like the sub is way too subby but in reality they hold the same amount of control, its just how the dynamics go. :) oh and fluff!

There’s something about Spencer Reid that always amazes Y/N, the way he handle things, the way he talks, the way he thinks, the way he manages all the things inside his head. He was rather complicated, but the mesmerizing kind that always caught her attention, the kind that stopped her from doing anything else but to listen and to cater his every need. He has her whipped for him like a puppy to it’s owner, but she loves it- she loves him, he’ll always her devotion— but so will she from him.

Y/N adores a lot of things, a lot of people— like Penelope Garcia and all her quirks, or David Rossi and all his wisdoms. But no one ever comes close to get the same amount of adoration and respect from her, as Spencer. The moment she joined the BAU, she knew that she had to give him her all, so she did. Now 2 years later, working in different divisions with him still in BAU and her in the human recourses division, their relationship remains strong, even stronger than ever.

Its rather challenging for them both to find the time together with him on case duties while she waited at their shared apartment considering that she spends more time on desk job rather than the field, but lately since he got his mandatory 30 day off, their time with each other becomes more and more interesting and sparked the utmost pleasure.

Of course he has lectures to teach, and papers to grade or sometimes on call cases to help, but that all means he’s mostly home with her. When they started the relationship, her intense adoration for him only sparked to greater level which is submission. When they started dating, she revealed that part of her instantly which ignited something inside the Doctor.

You see, Spencer was experienced but when they met, he never seen someone so devoted... so obedient... and so submissive to him like her. She’s the epitome of raw beauty not because she’s weak when she submit, it’s because she trusts him to take control but in order for him to take control, she’s also the one that holds the wheel— if she said the word, he’ll stop. Their dynamics are as harmonious as an instrumental piece. She submit to him in more ways than one— he owns her and most importantly he takes care of her like she takes care of him.

Y/N is not the one to misbehave, of course there are times when she wanted to be bratty, to break the rules he set for her, which was fairly simple; like she must tell him how she feels at all times (communication is key), no touching herself and no orgasms unless he’s there to give her the permission, and don’t disobey him. And she really wanted to be bratty, and tease him until his palm twitch and bend her over his lap, yet every time she was about to break one of his rules, the guilt settles in, and she thought,

You’re his, you’re his baby, his love, his bunny, his doll, his person, his home— he said so. What are you doing disobeying him? ungrateful brat.

The submissive in her just melt down its brattiness and pushed her deep to subspace, where all she wanted was to please him anyway possible, to be as good as she can be, to behave, to obey, and to serve. She’s willing to do anything to hear his sweet praises and to see the blissed proud expression featured on his face when she did something that pleased him. The euphoria from the praise seared her core, and sent her to heaven.

The atmosphere of this situation always have and always will be the most comfortable content thing in the world for her— and Spencer couldn’t agree more. Praising and taking care of his beautiful lady, seeing her so submissively devoted to him sent a venomous thrill to his bloodstream, and hearing her beg for him just makes him want to stay with her forever— and they planned to stay forever.

———

Y/N found herself pacing around the bedroom as she pouted cutely at the flashing thoughts of their late night rendezvous last night, she could still feel the burning sensation on her inner thigh, the way he whispered on her ear, the way his palm collided with her skin several times, the way his teeth graze on the skin of her breasts— claiming her for the 100th times, the way he fills her up to the brim that rendered her into a pathetic panting mess at the end.

Saying that she’s soaked through her panties surely is the statement of the year, because god she was soaked— dripping at the thought of his sinful immaculate fingers, how does one get excited and aroused by their dom’s fingers?!Certainly Y/N. He was currently inside his study, grading and preparing for his next lecture which is tomorrow, they spent their morning together with over-sugared coffees and pancakes before he went to do his professor things and Y/N went upstairs to.. apparently think about getting fucked by her dominant genius boyfriend.

She was contemplating to just hump the sheets or using the shower head for less evidence, or just touch herself then and there— he won’t know right? he’s busy downstairs, when the doctor is busy, he won’t come here. So here she was, walking slowly to the master bathroom, as she chew on her bottom lip. The closer she got to where she needed to be, the greater her guilt arisen.

“He took such a good care of you last night, he gives you multiple orgasms, give you the privilege of having him inside your mouth and princess part— now you want to disobey him? disobey the man you love?”

She whined at herself before pulling the bathroom door harshly to close it— maybe a bit too harsh because one minute later, Spencer ran to where she was at the front of their bathroom, eyes brimming with tears and lips in a constant pout.

“Hey Baby, come here.. what happened? are you hurt hm? let me see your eyes, dove.” His voice made her whined ever louder and sunk her head even deeper as she fluttered her eyes shut, ashamed that she was even considering to disobey him. “Baby please look at me..” Spencer tried, pulling her close to his chest and rubbed her back.

He knew the look, she’s deep inside her space, what’s gotten him so confused was that they didn’t do anything this morning, she only gets like this after they have a rough session or when she feels— ah.. His mind clicking on its own, and its his job to make sure she crack her shell.

“Y/N, look at me.” Y/N’s eyes snapped open at the authority behind the tone of his voice, causing her to squirm against his front and then she looked up at him, even though she’s not ready to face his disappointment laced on Spencer’s face. Yet when she did look, she found no disappointment but rather a gentle smile and a sigh,

“There you go, Missed your pretty eyes my love.” He mused wiping the tears off of her cheeks before carrying her bridal style to their bedroom and sit down on the edge of the bed. “Now, why don’t you tell me what’s gotten you so upset that you fell under deep like this, princess?” His voice is gentle, laced with adoration and hint of worry which made her swear he’s an angel.

“I-I..” Her lips trembled as she looked up at him, it’s then that he realized just how deep she’s under— her eyes focuses solely on him and the only think that crosses her eyes is him- just Spencer, Spencer, and Spencer.

“Shh, i’m not mad, i’m not disappointed, now let me know what has gotten you like this angel?” His velvet voice sent chills yet the calming kind onto your guts and you sighed, crawls up to his lap and hide your face in his neck, before mumbling cutely,

“I was um thinking about last night... and i just.. Spence i was about to use the um shower head but i didn’t! i stopped myself cause i won’t ever disobey you sir! i promise!” The way she talked made his heart bursts inside his chest, god he’s so whipped for her and she’s clueless sometimes.

So Spencer leaned in to place a lingering kiss on her lips, closing his eyes and transferring all his adoration towards her onto the kiss that surely has her needy by now.

Her lips moved in sync with his, both’s raw emotions could be seen on the kiss, they projected each other’s desires and wrapped it up with a gentle smile. He pulled back a little, caressing her flushed cheeks before muttering, “Baby—“

“So you’re not mad?” She beats him to it, batting her eyes innocently at him, the sight made him weak on his knees, that all he wanted was to worship her in every way he could.

“No, no i’m not mad petal. You’ve done nothing but pleasing me and making me happy.” He could see the way her eyes gleamed at that, the way her lips smiles so big, and the way she held onto him so tightly like an adorable koala, He muttered a low “Fuck me.” under his breath but of course she heard, every one of her senses were sensitive in times like this so of course she heard.

“W-What’s wrong?”

“No no baby, i said it because fuck.. how are you so perfect hm?” Spencer leaned to brush their noses together before trailing kisses from Y/N’s flushed cheeks to her ear where he whispered, “You’ve never broken any of my rules, always obeying me like a good girl, the perfect little love for me... how hm?”

Y/N was visibly shivering at the praise, a whine was stuck inside her throat, as she breathed heavily at the feeling of him biting softly on the skin below her ear causing her to gasp. “Ah!”

“Answer me, dove.” He groaned before making yet another mark, he could feel the way she squirmed that it sent a huge amount of pleasure toward his sweats covered cock.

“Sorry! i just.. just.. I wanna be good, i will always be good for you because you take care of me but most importantly.. you own me sir, i’m yours, body and soul. You can do anything, tell me anything, and just— i’m yours.” Oh to see her was one thing but to hear her high pitched voice spewing out those words awoken something inside of him, The absolute Feral need to claim her again and again. Cause she’s so damn precious and fucking his.

When she didn’t hear a respond from Spencer, she was about to pull away for a second to see if she has made any mistakes, but got cut off quickly when he flipped them over, pinned both of her wrist against the headboard. “Don’t move.” He whispered sternly, and she nodded, all the blood is rushing to her every sensitive nub.

“You’re fucking mine, just me, i will get you a collar, something that will show everyone that you’re mine.” His voice was rough, deep, and dripping with authority as he rip her flimsy nightgown open, trailing marks all over her smooth skin. He was worshipping her, owning her, making her his again and again.

“I’m yours— oh!” Y/N let out a yelp at the feeling of his lips enclosing on one of her nipples, gently rolling his fingers on the unoccupied one, before switching from time to time— making Y/N moaned every time he tugged too hard, suck too long, or licking way too fast. Her whole chest was on fire, overly stimulated yet couldn’t- and wouldn’t stop it.

“That’s right, you’re mine.” His growls were animalistic, as he trail his kisses down from her sternum down to her tummy, lips never missing an inch of its trail without marks. Y/N was positively buzzing with oversensitivity and pleasure, god she could just cum like this.

“My good girl, my best girl.” His praises has her closing her legs which Spencer quickly denied by spreading her thigh as wide as possible and lay on his tummy in between them.

“Sir.. please..” She kept pleading, eyes soaked with tears, panties soaked with arousal, and lips bitten red and raw. Totally a damn sight. “What do you want?” He demanded, he was the one pulling the strings whilst she laid there taking everything he’s going to give her. She wanted to say that she wants her to make her cum, but her submissiveness muttered something else,

“Whatever you want, whatever you think i deserve, whatever you choose for me.” Although her response were shaky, the message was clear enough for him to suddenly yanked her panties down and buried his face on her sweet sweet peach. Licking, and exploring every inch of her burning core as she squirms like a kitten. Spencer Hummed against her sensitive numb at the sound that she was making, lapping every drop of her sweet nectar, and suck on her pearl like there’s no tomorrow.

“Sir! Oh so good! thank you..” She was getting close, he could feel how her walls contracted around his wandering tongue, and her toes curling as her back arched. “Ask for permission like a good girl i know you are.” His voice against her cunt sent right to the edge.

“Please! please may i cum sir?” She was sobbing at this point, positively burning with pleasure and the adrenaline of being his. It was like there’s molten lava that swallow them both to a new world where the only people exists were Y/N Y/l/N and Spencer Reid.

“Cum, now.” He ordered, and she obeyed, instantly. Releasing onto his tongue which he happily lap every bit of it until she’s screaming due to overstimulation which he then pulled back, knowing just how sensitive his girl is at this point.

As he looked up at her, he could see how shivery she was, with a satisfied smile on her face and wrecked with his mark. “Thank you.. Spencer..” She drawled, nuzzling close to him before getting on her knees in the bed to straddle him shakily,

“Hey hey what are you doing?” Spencer grasp her trembling wrist stopping her from moving anymore. “Please let me ride you! please Spencer.” She does the thing with her eyes again, the one that Spencer would never ever dream of dishonoring her every requests.

“Baby, aren’t you tired?” His voice laced with worry as he thumb her lips, which made her instantly suckle on the thumb, and shakes her head. “Please sir! let me be your good girl, wanna show you how good i am.”

“Shh i know that you’re good baby, you don’t have to do that.” Y/N frowned as she suckle even harder on the thumb before releasing it and whined, “But i want to, doctor please!” even in her mushy state she could still think about one of Spencer’s biggest pet name.

“You should be glad, i love you this damn much pet.” He muttered yet still very pleased at the name. “Now come on, ride me, show me you can be good.” He doesn’t hold her, he just place his hand on his sides and watch her intently.

Y/N blushes under his intense gaze, as she took out his cock (finally) from his sweatpants, and god— his cock was so pretty, tip ruddy red, and the veiny skin was hard, her mouth watered at the empty filling inside her mouth— wanting so bad to feel the heaviness warmth on her tongue. “Gonna eye my cock forever like an undeserving brat or are you actually going to be good hm?”

His voice pulled her from her thoughts as she let out strings of apologies which he stopped with a sealing kiss.Y/N graze the tip of his cock against her opening as she took a deep breath before sinking down his length softly, his eyes never leaving his even when she moaned lewdly and shaking.

“You’re so good, warm and tight for me love.” He whispered, feeling immense pleasure being wrapped up inside her, he wished he could stay like this forever. “go on baby, bounce like a little bunny for me.”

And so she obeyed, placing her palm on his chest before bouncing slowly at first yet keep on picking its pace on his cock, their faces flushed, keeping eye contact as Spencer gripped her hips so hard before helping her bounce faster— making sure to hit her spongey spot each time.

“That’s it bunny, good girl.” He praised, earning a scream from her, her eyes rolled back and lips parted as she tightened her walls around his cock “Fuck Y/N..” His eyes shut now at the intense pleasure from the tightness of his girl’s walls.

He then pulled out for a second, flipped them over, before putting himself back in and then continue pounding her into the bed with a brutal pace yet its all so sweet and full of passion towards each other. “So good Spence! oh oh so full and deep!” Her pornographic moans send him over to the edge.

“Cum baby, now come with me.” He grunted against her lips before pulling her into an intoxicating kiss, and then both of them cum at almost the same time— they trigger each other’s pleasurable desires and needs like a soulmate would.

—————

“Shh good girl, I love you so much Y/N. You’re the best girl ever.” He wrapped his arm around hed after he cleaned them both with a damp towel, changing her into a pajama and then change himself.

“I love you.. Spencer...” She whispered, her eyes still swimming with the thought of him, she’s his.

“I need you to come back to me Y/N, come on.” Before they sleep he needs to coax her out of it, or else she would be sad and grumpy the next morning.

“I’m here!” She giggled as she stared at him, pressing onto his pouted lips and then eyes widen at the sad expression on his face that was one of the way to show her how she really needs to sleep now. The next minute she opened her eyes, he could feel the warm graze of hers and Her voice were small but its Y/N’s wonderful voice nonetheless.

“Spencer?”

“Hi Y/N, here with me?” Spencer intertwined their fingers together before pulling the covers up to their chest and then cuddled around her.

“Yeah.. yes baby..” Her voice droopy, Spencer then let out one more ‘i love you princess’ before she drift asleep, as well as him.

——————

Blurb requests and taglist are open so send me a message if you have ideas or want in!

#insufferableblurb #criminal minds imagines #criminal minds smut #dom!spencer #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid smut #spencer x reader

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sunsetcurvecuddles · 3 years

Note

assuming you're still doing the prompts and i need more of this in my life so

touch starved willie ft willex?

hiii i'm So Sorry How Long This Took but have exactly what the doctor ordered <3

i've been bruised by your light | 1.6k | willex + willie&julie&the phantoms | G

Usually, arriving at the studio is the strangest mix between utter, overwhelming chaos, and finally feeling like he can exhale. On one hand, Willie’s arrival is greeted by a blended cacophony of tuning instruments and varying amp volumes, interrupted by cheers when someone notices his presence. The song crash-lands as Reggie yells in delight, Willie!, and Julie twirls around, lights up, almost trips on her microphone cord.

Luke complains about stopping halfway through the song, but with this huge goofy grin on his face, the kind that proves to Willie that Luke actually isn’t mad in the slightest because two moments later he unceremoniously dumps his guitar on the couch to bound over to Willie, hands outstretched, palms up. (The way Luke Patterson acts, you’d think no one had ever hurt him before.)

Finally, once the others have stopped bounding around like puppies with guests, Alex will navigate his way out from behind his drum set. His bright, nervous smile will make whatever Willie risks by coming to visit utterly worth it.

And, well. If the memory of the way they all tackle-hug him, right there on the Molina’s driveway, keeps Willie going on the days when he doesn’t think he can stand it any more, all the sneaking around and the glancing over his shoulder and the cold sweats when Caleb looks at him a moment too long -- then that’s unrelated, probably. If the only way he can hold himself together is by taking a moment, late at night in his own room, to close his eyes and envision these moments, with arms around him and chatter above him and elbows in his ribs and he doesn’t even care, where he’s surrounded by friends and their excitement and love, where his body feels real and the ache that seems to haunt his chest temporarily abates -- that’s his own business.

Today, though, when Willie arrives at the studio, he’s primarily met with an eerie silence. He knows the silence itself contains nothing ominous, and that his own afterlife experiences has left him predisposed to dread, but still. He can’t help the prickling down the back of his neck when he appears outside the studio to no sound at all. Immediately, his brain begins producing worst case scenarios: Caleb found out. Caleb found out and has taken them all as punishment. Someone scarier than Caleb got there first.

He pushes these thoughts aside, and takes stock of his surroundings. He can’t see any signs of a struggle, not that a ghost-struggle would leave many signs. The door is propped mostly closed, but it opens easily when he pushes against it. So he opens it with one hand, the other curling into the hem of his sweater.

The sight that greets him floods him with relief, like warm water dumped over his head, like surfacing out of a pool when he’s held his breath too long. At the same time, it fills him with a longing that strangles him all over again.

It looks something like this: Julie and Reggie are cuddled up on the couch, in a tangle of limbs so tightly intertwined it’s impossible to tell where one vocalist begins and another bassist ends. Reggie’s hair is all messy, like he never lets it be when he’s awake, and he’s drooling slightly. Julie’s still in her exercise gear, so Willie guesses she had dance in last period at school or she just got back from working out with Flynn. Regardless, her clothes have sweat-stains and her cheek, pressed to Reggie’s arm, is all squished up so he can hardly see her face. Luke is plastered on top of the pile, spread across them like a weird impractical blanket, snoring.

And at the end of the couch, bearing the not-inconsequential weight of three pairs of legs across his lap, Alex sits, head tilted against the back of the couch. Always the lightest sleeper of the group, though, Willie has barely drawn a breath in the studio before Alex is squirming, rubbing one hand across his eyes and sitting up, blinking against the light spilling in from the open door. He looks unfairly adorable, and on top of the relief, it makes something in Willie’s chest both soar and ache.

“Willie?”

Alex whispers, but his voice seems to echo in the space. It’s a great practice room, Willie thinks, with these kinds of acoustics. The others don’t stir; Luke carries on snoring just as steadily as before, and Julie doesn’t move. Reggie’s nose twitches, but maybe it would have regardless.

“Hey, hotdog,” says Willie.

Right away, Alex asks, “Are you okay?” even though he’s still waking up and even though, to Willie’s own ears, he sounded level and casual and fine.

Willie takes stock of the shaking in his fingertips, the deep pond of hurt in his chest that seems to spring up from inside him whenever he isn’t distracted, the cold sweat of relief down the back of his neck. Thinks that these things should have ended when his life did. “Yeah, man” he answers. “Just didn’t know where you guys were, couldn’t hear the, y’know--” He makes a little high-hat noise with his mouth, just to see Alex’s nose scrunch up in response, “--from outside, so I thought you might be… somewhere else.”

Alex tilts his head, looks at Willie through slightly narrowed eyes. Then says, “Are you cold?”

Shit. Willie drops his hand from where he was rubbing the inside of his elbow, because he hadn’t even noticed himself doing it in the first place. “A little, I guess.”

Alex reaches for him, before looking down at the legs still stacked high over his body, and frowns, in such a comically put-out way that Willie stifles the urge to laugh. His body hums, the relief and the shakes easing off but the ache, the whirlpool chasm inside him opening up deeper. Usually that feeling is gone, once he’s here with Alex, with all of them. Once they’ve all rushed up to greet him, once he’s been knocked flat by their overenthusiastic hellos, like he’s just entered a puppy daycare.

“Here,” Alex says, shuffling down the couch a bit so that there’s slightly more room on his lap. “If you can sit on the arm?”

Willie gets the idea. The arm of the couch looks pretty sturdy, despite its age, and technically Willie is a ghost, so he’s not sure if he weighs anything at all to a piece of furniture. So he sits, sideways along the arm of the couch, and Alex wraps an arm around Willie’s waist, fingers curling into Willie’s hip.

All at once, the feeling, the one that’s usually gone, starts to ebb and fade, like it’s washing away. Willie caves to the instinct to tuck himself closer, presses along Alex’s side until they’re connected from shoulder to knee, and tries not to let the desperation for it show, tries not to crumble apart altogether.

“How long do you have?” Alex asks, voice barely a murmur into Willie’s hair just above his ear. Willie sighs out a longer breath than he meant to.

“Not -- not that long,” he manages.

“How long?” Alex checks again, his thumb swiping up and down Willie’s side rhythmically in a way that lulls Willie under, makes him rest his cheek on Alex’s shoulder before he can even think about it.

“Like, an hour?” Willie lets his eyes close as Alex runs a hand through his hair, not even flinching when Alex’s fingers get stuck a little at the back of his neck and he has to tease out some tangles to continue. “Maybe a little more, but not a lot more.”

Alex presses his face into Willie’s hair. He maybe kisses the side of Willie’s head, but Willie might have imagined it. Luke wriggles a little in his sleep, and it doesn’t burst the bubble Willie had created in his head, more expands it, opens it up just a little more so that instead of it just being Willie-and-Alex inside of his ball of safety, it’s Willie-and-Alex-and-Julie-Luke-Reggie.

“Okay,” says Alex easily. Then, softer, “I’m really happy to see you.”

“You too,” Willie whispers back. He’s turning to goo, he can feel it, as Alex rubs the hand from his waist up and down his back, while the other continues to gently detangle Willie’s hair. He feels… dopey, almost, exhausted from the huge rush of feelings and then the series of reliefs, one after another. “Sorry,” he mumbles. “Wanna actually see you, not sleep.”

“Please relax,” Alex murmurs. “I’ll wake you up before you need to go. I’m just glad you’re here with us.”

Alex feels like a blanket, Willie thinks blearily. Or not like a blanket, but the feeling of being with Alex is like the feeling of being under a wonderful blanket. On the inside of Willie’s chest, they feel the same.

Soon enough he’ll have to go back to the club. Prepare for the show that night, make small talk with the other staff, pretend to Caleb like today is any other day. Before he knows it he’ll be in his own bed, lying staring at the ceiling, reliving this moment, trying to grasp every sensation, every phantom touch. Will even try to remember how it sounded when Luke snored, the way that Julie’s toes kept poking him under the arm, how Reggie keeps whispering gibberish under his breath in his dreams, because all of them sound safe and like home.

For now, though, it’s real and all around him. For now, the ache in his chest subsides, and Alex’s hands are gentle and careful, and Alex’s body is warm wherever they touch.

All Willie can do is savour the feeling, so he can remember it better when it’s gone. Until next time he can sneak away to a rehearsal.

#this is quite literally just a jatp cuddle puddle feat. willie and i love that for them!#jatp #willex #willie jatp #alex mercer #fanfiction #ask #fairylightsandrainydays #julie and the phantoms

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bluemusickid · 3 years

Note

Hi! I hope you're doing well 🥰 Can you I request one where Steve breaks reader's arm or leg by mistake during training and has to take care of her afterwards? Definitely won't mind if some smut is added 😅 Thank you!!

OMFGGGG MY FAV WRITER SENT AN ASK ASDFGHJKL (Also full disclosure: this has been one of my kinks for a while :P)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

Warnings: slow burn (just a tad), 18+, SMUTTTT, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy), did I mention NSFW? Read at your own risk.

A/N: I would like to thank @imdarkinme for sending in this AMAZING ask! She’s a doll and I’ve been a fan of her writing for so long!! I would also like to thank @donutloverxo for converting me to a Steve Stan loool. I wanted him to be a bit dark here, but in the end his dorky side won. :P Without further ado, I hope you enjoy!! Send in your requests here and you can join my taglist here (or you could just send an ask lmao)! Thanks!

I post my stuff only on AO3 and here, nowhere else.

The Learning Curve

You groaned as you got up from the mat, yet again. It was dumb of you to ask Captain Rogers to train with you. As a new recruit, you’d obviously wanted to impress him; he was the leader of the Avengers after all. There was only one tiny problem you forgot to factor in: the man was a Super Soldier, while you were...not.

“Come on, get up! We still have two rounds to go!” a voice bellowed from above you.

You mentally cursed at the voice. You’d tried to not let it affect you, but like many others, you had a bit of a crush on the Captain. But it wasn’t solely because of his looks, it was more about his passion to help and save and to protect. He was always so passionate, it was hard to keep away(which was a fiercely guarded secret). You felt like Icarus, when you were with him.

Getting up, you tried to block his punches, while getting in a few yourself. It was impossible, the man was a champ. You saw your opening, however, when he seemed to be distracted by someone approaching him from behind you. Seeing this as a golden opportunity to catch him off guard, you threw a punch aiming for his face. Unfortunately, he blocked the punch and pushed you, to ward you off. It seemed as if he too, forgot that he was a Super Soldier, pushing you a bit too hard.

You screamed as you fell to the ground, twisting to save your face, your arm breaking your fall. Your suspicions were confirmed as you tried to move your arm but couldn’t. Steve heard you yelp and rushed to your side, carefully inspecting your injured appendage. You squealed as he touched your arm, the pain indescribable. Steve whispered his apologies a million times, trying to haul you up by your waist, in vain. Finally, he gave up and picked you up bridal style, like you weighed nothing.

You gasped, partially out of pain, but mostly out of surprise at the sudden move.

“Umm...Cap..tain..I..can..walk..” you stuttered, unable to keep the pain out of your voice.

He looked into your eyes and smiled, shaking his head. Oh dear lord. This man truly was gorgeous. Nearing the MedBay, he slowly placed you on the bed, his mouth tantalisingly close to yours as he lowered you onto the surface. You never realised how blue his eyes were, which at the moment were filled to the brim with anxiety and some other emotion; which you couldn’t quite place your finger on. Deciding you were probably delirious from the pain, you tried to focus on what the doctor was telling you.

“...so you’ll have to be on constant bedrest for the next two weeks before we can check again to see if you need a rod put in.”

“Err, I’m sorry doc, what?” you mumbled apologetically, embarrassed by your thoughts.

“As I was telling Captain Rogers, you seem to have a hairline fracture in your ulna, which could require support. You need to rest and take it easy for at least two weeks. Training will have to be put on hold, and I suggest you call a family member to take care of you in the meantime.” the doctor said, scribbling notes.

“Oh, that..won’t be necessary. I can do stuff on my own, I’ll be very careful.” you said with a grimace, not wanting to seem weaker in front of Steve.

“That’s not gonna happen.” Steve said, firmly. “She’ll stay in my quarters. It’s the least I can do after breaking her arm.”

You stared at him, a million things going through your head. You and him, in the confines of a room, alone. Oh no. This was going to be torturous in more way than one.

“Oh no no no, Captain. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t like to impose. Plus, I’m feeling better already! I’m sure it’s more than manageable. Please..I..I’ll be okay, really.” you rushed, pretty sure that your voice was betraying just how fast your heart was beating.

Steve smirked. “This isn’t up for debate. Plus, I’m sure it would be easier for the others to check up on you when we’re away on missions.” he said, taking the prescription from the doctor.

You winced as he helped you up from the bed, the warmth of his hand making you hyperaware about what your life was gonna be like for 2 weeks. You sighed. It was gonna be a loooong two weeks.

-------

You realised after a week that your worries had all been for naught. Steve was an excellent caretaker. He made sure you took all your medicines at the right time, ate properly and rested enough. He was also a thorough gentleman, always calling a lady nurse when you needed to take a shower or get dressed; really respected your boundaries. But you couldn’t deny the shift in his behaviour towards you. At first, you felt like you were reading into it too much, but then it started to get more noticeable. They were little things, but it meant so much. He would insist on having lunch with you, no matter if you were quiet or chatty; Steve always was there. He brought your favourite blanket from your chambers to make sure you felt more comfortable. At night, he would make sure you were comfortable, get you hot chocolate, maybe even sit next to you till you fell asleep. One time, he held your hand till you drifted off; but you were sure that you felt him leave a small peck on your cheek as you nodded off.

If you weren’t falling for him earlier, you sure as hell were now.

------

After hitting the two week mark, you went to the doctor again for a checkup. All seemed well, there was no need for a rod to be put in but the cast would have to stay on. Steve was there throughout the appointment, listening intently at everything the doctor said with his full focus. It was quite distracting and kinda hot, and you couldn’t help but sneak glances at him periodically. On one occasion, he caught your eye and grinned, catching you in the act. You wished the ground would swallow you up just then: this man fully well knew that you had a crush on him and was enjoying messing with you.

You nearly gasped as you felt his hand on your shoulder, guiding you to the lift. Something was different today. Steve seemed buoyant, which was very out of character for him.

“The nurse isn’t available today, she had some prior commitments. If it’s ok with you, I’ll be taking care of you tonight.” he said, softly. You gulped, his tone messing with your train of thought.

“Uh, that’s ok, I can manage things for a night. I’ve already imposed on you quite a bit and don’t want to create more of a hassle.”

Steve smiled. “Sweetheart, you’ve not been a hassle, trust me. It felt nice having you around, I enjoy your companionship. Just a few weeks more and you can get rid of me.” he said, with a mischievous grin. You groaned inwardly; this man was driving you nuts.

“Oh no, I really liked staying with you. You’re great company! I don’t think I want to get rid of you, ha.” you said in a flourish, mentally cursing yourself for being such a blabbering fool around him.

Steve looked at you, his eyes darkening. He stepped closer to you, opening his mouth to say something, but the elevator seemed to sense the tension rife in the air and opened at that exact moment. You both snapped out of the haze you were in with Steve beckoning you to his quarters, his hand resting softly on your back.

Back in your room, you realised you needed to take your nightly shower. You were about to call for the nurse, when you remembered that she wasn’t gonna come. Shit. You’d have to call Steve to help with your sling. Closing your eyes, you sighed before you walked to his room, praying to God that you would get through this. Just go in, get the brace off, and get out, you whispered to yourself. With that mantra in mind, you hesitantly knocked on his door. A muffled ‘come in’ reached you, and you timidly entered the lion’s den.

Steve was tinkering with the laptop, clearly engrossed in some work. You felt guilty disturbing him, but it was kind of an emergency.

“Is everything ok?”

“Yes, I..just needed some help with my sling; I tried to take it off, but it’s not coming off. Can you..unfasten it? I’ll be out of your hair in no time..”

Wordlessly, Steve sauntered over to you, turning you around to face the wall. Softly, his fingers undid the clasp of the sling, pulling the straps off your neck, his fingers grazing over your skin gently. You jerked, surprised by the small currents you felt with these small touches. Turning you around, he helped you take your arm out of the sling, his hands accidentally brushing the sides of your breasts. You didn’t dare make eye contact with him; you were sure you would say or do something you would regret later on.

“All done.” he whispered, his eyes not leaving yours. You realised he was merely inches away from your lips; the proximity driving you crazy.

“Thanks.” you mumbled, wanting to run out of the room.

“Are you going to bed? Do you need anything to drink?”

“Yes, I was just gonna head to bed after my shower.”

“You can shower here. I’d be able to keep an eye on you then and you won’t have to worry about any mishaps. See? Win-win.” he said with a grin.

You were about to decline his offer but stopped when he held up his hand. “You need to stop thinking that you’re a burden on me. I like doing things for you, it makes me feel like I’m not totally alone. These two weeks have undoubtedly been one of the best weeks in my life. I like you, and I know you like me. I just want to show you how much I care for you in my own, peculiar ways.” he said, taking your hand in his, drawing patterns on your knuckles softly.

Your mind raced with all the information. You never knew Steve felt this way, he was always so taciturn. Your gaze flitted to his face, his eyes darkening the way they did in the morning. He didn’t need words to convey what his eyes said; he felt the same way you did about him.

You melted as he raised your hand to his lips, placing a kiss which felt like petals grazing your skin. Leaning down, his lips inched closer to yours, his breath tickling your face.

“Tell me if I should stop, and I will.” he whispered.

You waited a beat before making your decision. Raising your lips to his, you touched his lips slightly before murmuring, “don’t stop.”

And that was it. You were lost in the maelstrom of emotions that was Steve kissing you. It started off sweet, with Steve engulfing your lips within his, taking his time to make sure you were enjoying. It turned heated the moment you ran your fingers through his hair, gently tugging on it. Steve ran his tongue over you, begging for entrance. You moaned and opened your mouth, prompting him to unite his tongue with yours, as if to memorise every inch of you. You broke apart, the need for air greater than your desire.

He picked you up and carried you to the bed, placing you on it carefully. Being extremely careful, he pulled off your tee, eyes widening as he took in your bare chest. Kneeling in front of you, he took off your sweatpants and your underwear, leaving soft but searing kisses at every inch of skin he exposed. You sharply inhaled, already feeling yourself get wet even though he hadn’t even touched you properly.

Lowering you to the bed tenderly, he made sure your arm was resting comfortably, placing a pillow underneath the appendage. Placing his hand next to your head, he kissed you deeply, pouring every emotion he felt into that kiss. You moaned as you felt his lips trail lower, leaving kisses along your neck, laving your pulse point. Moving lower, he kissed your breasts, leaving small bites along the way. Taking a swollen nub in his mouth, he sucked on it while massaging the other, prompting you to groan and run your uninjured hand through his hair, wanting him inside you.

While he moved his attention to your other breast, he trailed his fingers down your body, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He finally reached his destination, his fingers soft against your wet nether region.

“Steve, please..I need you..” you whispered in urgency. His intrepid fingers found your swollen nub and circled; gently at first, and then with more intensity. Moving lower, his digits swirled around your wet lips, before plunging into your tight channel. You gasped as he began thrusting, his knuckles bumping along your front wall, hitting your sweet spot. You had to refrain from arching your back, instead relegating to pulling his head down for a kiss. He increased his speed, adding another finger once he sensed how close you were. You shrieked as you reached your peak, breaking apart from the kiss.

As you opened your eyes, recovering from your orgasm, you saw Steve look at you, an unspoken question in his deep blue eyes. You nodded, cupping his cheek, running your thumb over his soft, soft skin. You don’t know what power he wielded over you, but it didn’t matter. You had no qualms being caught in this spell he wove.

Shedding his clothes, he returned to his place, widening your spread legs with his torso. Sitting back on his heels, he took in your body, his gaze running over every curve, every stretch mark, every beauty spot on your body. Taking his hard member in his hand, he gave a few strokes before lowering himself, running his nose against yours. He ran his tip along your wet folds before plunging into you in one swift move. You gasped and closed your eyes, your head falling back against the pillow. He gave you time to adjust to his size, your walls snug against him. After a moment, he began moving, careful to not move your arm. He started off slow, making sure you felt every inch of him. You hooked your legs around his hips, urging him to move faster. He took the hint, his pace increasing with each thrust. The coil in your belly was tightening and you could feel yourself hurtling towards completion for the second time. Running your hand along his back, your hand made it’s way to his ass, pushing down, begging him for more. Steve held himself up, looking deeply into your eyes, as he sped up his thrusts. You could feel him within you, each thrust hitting your weak spot over and over again.

You screamed his name as you reached your peak, your legs tightening around him; wrapping yourself around him like a vine. He was close too, his thrusts now becoming frantic as he was chasing his end. Your walls contracting around him set off his orgasm as he moaned, spilling every last drop of himself inside you. You both panted, as he dropped his head on your chest, trying to catch his breath. You both stayed like that for a while as you ran your fingers through his scalp, enjoying the feel of his weight on yours.

There were many things to talk about, sure.

But for now, this was more than enough.

-----

Tags: @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @donutloverxo @worksby-d @gotnofucks @imdarkinme @chris-butt @ozarkthedog

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oh-my-may · 4 years

Text

Sakusa, Tsukishima and Kenma when their s/o gets a wound

requested: sakusa, tsukki, and kenma with a s/o who gets a wound? maybe they went to do an activity and get their knees scraped bad and the boys find out? how would they take care of their s/o?

Sakusa was such a good pick for this oh my that’s probably why his is a bit longer please forgive me I am weak for him ok

Sakusa Kiyoomi:

There were not a lot of things you could do as dates, since Sakusa declined most of your suggestions saying that it would be too unhygienic or too much work making sure everything would be clean.

But when you came up with the idea of going wandering on a mountain trail, where only mostly elderly people where, he was all for it. Of course he also didn’t liek staying insiode all the time, and a place where anybody went while being in nature sounded like music to his ears.

However you regretted your decision soon after you guys started your trip. You were breathing heavily and your legs already felt like spaghetti and you werent even halfway up the hill. Sakusa however, with his amazing sports stamina was walking ahead and barely notived that you fell way behind, until he wanted to talk to you and you didn’t respond to his words. He turned around wondering where you were. Did you maybe get lost? But then he saw you hanging over, your hands placed on your knees and you looked up to him smiling, but you couldn’t hide the exhaustion.

Your boyfriend couldn’t help but chuckle seeing you like that. He walks to you and stops in front of you, tilting his head while he observes your heaving figure. “You know, we can just return if you want to. But the air up here is really good and I guess it’s even better at the top.” You just shake your head, insisting on continuing this trip because it hasn’t been often that you saw Kiyoomi this careless. You were determined to make this an enjoyable trip for the both of you, but especially him. He deserved a pause from his hectic life.

So he grabs your hand and walks slowly beside you for a while, both of you enjoying the nature around you and the fresh air sweeping through your lungs. When you’re finally at the top you have a nice picnic while enjoing the view over the land, watching leaves dance in the wind and tumbling around you, taking in all the scents of exotic flowers and birds chirping somewhere in the tree tops.

You feel a lot better when you get back down. Walking down on a mountain is a lot less exhausting than walking up, after all. Your steps fly more easily. Too easily. You’re more careless with your steps and before you can stop it you stumble over a big rock in your way, landing on your knees before Sakusa can grab your wrist. However he’s quick to help you up again and you flinch and hiss when you shift your weight on your left leg again. Your knee is totally scraped, a small rill of blood running down your leg. Some small stones still stick to your skin and Sakusa is quick to pull out a small package from his backpack, because this man never goes anywhere unprepared.

He helps you sit down on a tree trunk next to the path you were walking and he looks at you with slight amusement but also worry in his eyes. He sighs before leaning down and placing a kiss on the top of your head and then kneels down in front of you, taking care of the wound. “What am I gonna do with you? You’re so clumsy...” he mumbles and you have to smile, though your knee still burns badly. Sakusa takes care of it perfectly, even kissing the bandage on top of your knee after he’s done. However, he doesn’t let you walk down again, he carries you down all the way on his back and you’re not complaining.

You just cling onto him and cuddle into his back, burying your face in his neck and stroking his hair occassionally, thanking him for taking care of you so well. He smiles to himself when he feels you pressing to him, feeling your breath so close on his skin.

After the trip he still checks up on your knee everyday, even when it’s not a wound that serious. He still claims that it shouldn’t get infected and that he’s the only one besides a doctor that can take proper care of it. Always kisses your knee after every check up! A true cariing cutie, I am way too soft for this man

Tsukishima Kei:

It was hard to get Tsukishima thrilled of the idea of going somewhere special to hang out. He was more of the stay inside kinda person, preferring just cuddling up to you in private.

You accepted his choices (even though you still got him to go to certain places sometimes) and that’s how you transformed everyday situations into little dates. Like lunch in school or staying in your garden instead of in the house, sometimes you’d even join his practice and watch him there. Even though he would never admit it, he enjoyed it when you do that. It always makes his insides all giddy and warm because you care for him so much!

You also always walk home together, talking about anything on your way or just quietly listening to music while enjoying each other’s company, silently holding or hands or sometimes he’ll just sling an arm around your shoulders and pull you close to him, walking like that for a while.

Today however you were “balancing” on a wall next to the sidewalk while talking to Kei and rambling about your day. It was fun to you focusing on taking the right steps, even though the platform you were walking on was not that small. You still had to be careful about where you placed your feet, because there were roots and other plants growing over and through the stone. “Ugh anyway, and then our teacher just made us write a test, and it was fine I guess but still sucked.” you ended your little rant.

“Y/N, are you really sure you should walk up there? Don’t you think it would be safer down here? You’re gonna get hurt if you don’t look out.” Tsukki just says while looking up to you with a vague face. You almost laughed seeing him like that. Was he actually worrying about you? Contrary to you always worrying about him at games, this was a nice change.

“Don’t be silly Kei, I’ve been balancing on things since I was a child, literally nothing will happen-” And that’s when you literally cursed yourself, because just moment later you stumble over a root and fall down, though you manage to cushion your fall with your hands which got the most damage.

Your boyfriend is right next to you in no time, helping you up and scanning your body for any injuries, but luckily only your hands got injured and your elbow felt weird, making your whole arm feel like some sort of pudding. Tsukki is just shaking his head while taking in the scrapes and cuts on your hands. You flinch when he softly touches your strained skin and he looks at you with disapproval. His eyes literally tell you “I told you so.” but fortunately he has enough tactfulness to not say it out loud. He accompanies you to your house, constantly shaking his head when you whimper and pout because your hands hurt.

He reluctantly helps you clean your hands, because he claims he’s not good with that kind of stuff and he only helps you bandage the wound because you don’t want to move your hands too much. Quiet sounds of disapproval still leave his lips as he does, though. Something like that could never happen to him, he says. Still, the look in his eyes is loving. He appreciates your playful side a lot. Without it, his life would be pretty plain. Without YOU it would be.

He loves you, but please prepare for a bunch of teasing after the incident. He will never let you climb on something or balance somewhere every again for a long time because honestly? He cares about you a little too much and he can’t bear to see you hurt in any way.

Kenma Kozume:

Kenma always seemed to be busy with some things. In the morning it was school, in the afternoon volleyball practice and in the evening and at night he was usually gaming.

You tried you best to insert yourself into his routine. Walk to school with him, spend the breaks at school with him, game with him, watch him at practice. You were fine with it, really, because you noticed how over the time he got more cooperative and sometimes skipped volleyball practice to hang out with you, or he was starting to game a bit less in order to go to the cinema with you etc.

But you still treasured the time the most when you could hang with him normally, like at practice. You could actually spend hours watching him do something else other than hanging over his console.

And the other members loved you, too. They appreciated you being at practice, it was like having another manager. You also took care of them and told them everything you observed, you brought snacks and cheered for them in any game. Sometimes you’d even join in during training camps and get along with other teams, as well.

You normally used your time during practice to do homework or work on other things, but today you helped out as the “ballboy/girl” basically and ran around the gym catching the flying volleyballs and collecting them for the boys. You’d throw them back to them or helped them to serve the ball, but you were always just moving around the whole time. You didn’t mind, though. It was actually very fun, the boys were constantly joking around. But Kenma didn’t look all that amused whenever a ball just closely missed you or when you almost fell in an attempt to catch a ball.

You watched as him and Yaku were talking to Lev and teaching him how to do a proper serve. The first year was listening eagerly, moving his hands and arms around enthusiastically and you found yourself grinning when Kenma moved his hands over his face in frustration.

Then it finally came to Lev putting all the tips into something and he was standing at the end of the field, ready to serve. You watched him fail a few times until he hit the ball with a loud bang and slammed it over the net, right to where you were standing. No one had enough time to react properly and before you could even think about diodging the ball landed straight on your chest and you fell backwards, hitting your head on the floor hard. For a moment you couldn’t see or hear anything, just darkness and dancing light in front of your eyes and a defeaning beeping in your ears.

Someone helped you to sit up and you slowly began to see contours of people around you, and their voices were still incomprehendable to you. You felt hands on your back and then on your face and you looked into your boyfriends face who had widened eyes and looked very pale.

Then he turned around and basically chased Lev through hell for doing this, giving him the lecture of his life even though you weren’t hurt that badly. there was a small wound at the back of your head and just a little bit of blood came out.

Kenma was by your side the whole time, flinching a lot more than you when you got a bandage around your head. You got some medication from the doctor and while you were tripping a little bit he still stayed at your side, giving you his console so you can play and distract yourself from ther pain

Literally really won’t leave your side, will stay at your house until you can go to school again and he just spends the days next to you in your bed, pouting when he sees the wound and carefully stroking your hair. He’s a big cuddler during this time and literally won’t led you near the gym anytime soon. He always gives Lev death stares when he gets near you, like a hissing cat.

A protective boy, 11/10 would love and cherish

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disgruntledspacedad · 3 years

Text

Aftershocks (1/5)

The Better Love Series

A sequel to The Rules of Engagement

pairing: Javier Peña x Fem!Reader (Ears). Part of the Better Love ‘verse.

summary: That bomb fucked you up a little more than you thought. h/c, fluff.

words: 1.5k

warnings: 18+ - canon typical violence, angst, hospital stuff. This one is mild for me.

a/n: unbeta’d. Gif by @javier-pena, banner by @cassandras-nest, title card by yours truly.Takes place hours after ROE leaves off. This won’t make a lot of sense unless you’ve read Rules first.

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five

MASTERLIST

A deep, throbbing ache in your back drags you back to the land of the living.

Ugh.

You rub the crust from your eyes and wiggle your toes with the awkward effort that comes from heavy sleep. It’s late afternoon, the sun sinking low in the sky, falling in gentle patches over the crumpled comforter. Reality comes back to you in slow, muzzy chunks.

You’re lying in Peña’s bed. He’d ridden you hard, then tucked you in afterward, snuggled comfortably beside you while you’d drifted off.

The lazy smile dies on your lips as you remember just why Javier Peña had felt the need to throw you against the wall and fuck you like there was no tomorrow.

Your apartment. A blazing fireball. Smoke and ash and rubble. Emilio’s broken body.

You choke back a sob.

Javi.

Your chest throbs as you remember how he’d looked at you, eyes shining and desperate.

“I thought I’d lost you.”

How he’d held you close, tucking you gently under his chin as if you were the most precious thing in the world. Wild sex in the hallway, gentle sex in his bed. Snuggling up together afterward. His soft confession, “I’m all in, Ears, if that’s okay with you.”

Your brain spins dizzily in an attempt to process it all. Despite all of the pain, fear, drama, and uncertainty of the past 12 hours, you can’t help feeling a profound sense of relief. Sure, you’ve lost everything you’ve ever owned, but at least you have Javi.

That thought still boggles your mind.

You roll over, kicking your feet to untangle them from the sheets. Javi’s side of the bed is long cold. Sighing, you haul yourself up on your elbow, surprised when you have to catch your breath to do so.

God, you’re more sore than you thought you’d be.

Your heart races as you stand, and you press your hand to your breast bone, feeling a little woozy. Gray spots swim in your vision, and you blink hard, forcing them away. You hadn’t realized you’d stood up so fast.

Slowly, you patter naked into the hallway, following the sound of Javi’s voice. He’s in the kitchen with his back turned to you, speaking lowly into the telephone. He’s still shirtless.

You crack a grin at the memory.

Now that you’re standing up, you’re starting to feel a little more stable. Thoughts are still fuzzy and distant, and your pulse thrums skittish in your ears, but at least you’re not going to pass out. Your chest feels weird, though, like your lungs have been scraped raw, and taking a deep breath sets something throbbing deep in your back. Your head aches like a bitch, too.

Fuck Pablo Escobar and his fucking bombs.

You snatch Javi’s green shirt off the kitchen counter, still lying half-folded where you’d dropped it this morning. Javi raises his brows at you, and you shoot him a wink as you slip into it. He’s still on the phone, talking to Messina, you think, but his eyes follow you darkly as you make your way to his bathroom in search of some pain medicine.

Climbing onto the toilet to peruse through Javi’s bathroom cabinet feels like more effort than it really ought to be. Again, your heart speeds, and you double over, suddenly panting for air.

A minute or so later, Javi finds you sitting on the toilet lid with your head in your hands.

“Hey,” he says, pausing as he notices your position. He drops to his knees in front of you, taking your hands in his. “What’s wrong?” His voice is laced with concern.

You look up at him. He’s all dark eyes and somber expression, watching you warily with a deeply furrowed brow. “Just a little dizzy,” you admit, hating to see him worry over you. “I was looking for a tylenol. My back is killing me.”

Javi blinks, as if the thought of keeping medicine in a medicine cabinet has never occurred to him.

“I can find you something,” he says, and somehow, you just know that means he’ll be sneaking across the landing to borrow from Connie’s stash. “But baby, are you sure I don’t need to take you to the hospital? You look a little pale.”

“I’m sure, Javi,” you answer firmly. The thought of getting dressed and leaving the apartment is absolutely abhorrent right now - you are still bone weary. You decide to offer him a compromise. “If it really bothers you, I’ll see somebody tomorrow after work.”

Javi shakes his head. “You’re not going in tomorrow, babe,” he says slowly. “I already talked to Stechner.” There’s a little bit of hesitation in his tone, like he’s wary of how you’ll react. “Once word got around about the bomb, everybody was looking for you. I didn’t mean to butt in, but I really didn’t want to wake you, either.” He reaches up to rub the back of his neck, almost apologetically.

In a different situation, you think you might be annoyed by his interference. But Javi is staring at you with those solemn, worried eyes, one errant curl falling across his brow, and you find that any frustration you feel is buried deep beneath exhaustion and maybe even a little gratitude. “Guess I’ll let it slide,” you tell him, cracking a small smile. “This time.”

He answers you with a tiny breath of relief and a quirk of his lips. “Good.” One long thumb massages your knuckles absently. “He’s put you on leave for the rest of the week. Says get some rest and maybe some therapy, and he’ll see you on Monday to talk logistics.”

You snort. “Asshole.”

Javi’s expression is a little darker as he agrees. “So,” he says, leaning back on his heels to pin you with an intense stare. “Doctor tomorrow?”

“Doctor tomorrow,” you promise, allowing him to pull you to your feet. “Tylenol now.”

“Bossy,” he complains, reaching up to stroke your cheek like he just can’t help touching you at every opportunity.

“Assertive,” you’re quick to correct, swallowing back a shiver. All of this soft, sweet caressing is very new.

Javi grins, a gentle, fond expression that crinkles his eyes and makes him look years younger. “Have I mentioned how good you look in my shirt?” he murmurs, meeting your lips for a slow, deep kiss that steals your breath. One hand roams up to gently cup your breast.

“You don’t have to,” you answer smugly, catching that wandering hand in a firm grip. Your heart is racing again, but for all of the wrong reasons. “Now, go raid Murphy’s medicine cabinet for me, please.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he laughs, shaking his head at the fact that you know him so well.

That woozy feeling redoubles just as soon as Javi shuts the door behind him. You bite your lip, counting back the hours since you’ve had anything to drink besides coffee. Even that had been a long time ago. Probably you’re just dehydrated.

You make your way to the kitchen, feeling numb and detached as you shuffle through the cabinets. Javi has a startling lack of normal drink wear, but you manage to find a nice set of crystal tumblers lurking above the sink.

Typical.

Again, climbing requires an alarming amount of effort, and something uncoils painfully in your chest as you reach over your head for a glass. You flinch, and three of the tumblers go flying, shattering on the floor with a horrendous crash.

Startled and off-balanced, you stumble to your hands and knees, heedless of the glass shards that are digging into your bare skin. Your vision is graying at the edges again, and you can’t fucking breathe.

“What the fuck?” Javi’s voice is hard as he slams open the front door. “Babe?”

“Sorry,” you wheeze with the very last of the air that’s left in your lungs. Panic sets in, your body responding to the acute lack of oxygen in the only way it knows how. “I was -”

Speaking sets you coughing, and suddenly, you’re coughing so hard that you can’t stop, great, wrenching spasms that send pain racketing through your entire body.

Javi drops the bottle of pills he’s holding. They rattle against the floor. “Ridiculous woman,” he grits between clenched teeth, reaching down to haul you to his chest. You know he doesn’t mean it. “You are not fine.”

You press your fingers to your lips, one last rasping cough ripping its way out of your throat. When you pull them away, they are covered in tiny spots of blood.

Javi freezes as he sees it. “Jesus Christ.”

Your teeth are chattering, your entire body shaking. “I’m -”

“Goddammit, if you tell me you’re fine one more fucking time, Ears,” Javi growls, allowing the threat to trail off.

You shake your head. “I’m not,” you manage. Everything hurts, and words are difficult right now. Your throat is raw, and you still don’t have enough air. “I’m sorry. I was, but now I’m not.”

“Come on,” Javi’s voice is terse, worried. You have the foresight to grab his sweats from the counter before he sweeps you off your feet. “We’re going to the hospital. Now.”

♠

notes/confessions:

I promise, promise, promise, this is going to turn into fluff. Please don’t kill me!

Originally, Aftershocks was going to be a huge one-shot, but nah. I thought I’d try smaller chapters for once (read: chaotic jay cannot plan shit to save her life).

Let me know if you’d like to be added or removed from my tags!

Tags: @jedi-mando, @perropascal, @aerolanya, @pikemoreno, @bitchin-beskar, @mostly-megan, @huliabitch, @starsandmando, @starlight-starwrites, @thirstworldproblemss, @knittingqueen13, @yespolkadotkitty

Javier Peña tags: @magpie-to-the-morning, @tiffdawg, @danniburgh

#javier peña #Javier Peña x reader #Javier Peña x you #narcos #pedro pascal #narcos netflix #pedro fanficiton #pedro pascal fanfiction #narcos fanfiction #Javier Peña fanfiction #javier peña fanfic #better love #aftershocks

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cousinslavellan-archive · 2 years

Note

from the ship writing prompts, how about: ❛ i wonder what i look like in your eyes. ❜ (for whoever/whatever you want to write about!) :)@kerra-and-company

I'm gonna go with Terra & Braham for this cause it's been a while!! And post-Icebrood because I haven't written ANYTHING about them since like.... the third episode oops. (Also I got your other note don't worry it happens!! Ty for coming back tho!!! :> ♥♥♥ @kerra-and-company ) This got kind of a long so CUT!

"Hey, Ter... can you help me with these bandages? They're, uh... kinda stuck again."

"Of course, just a second!"

Terra finishes with her armor and pulls a loose shirt on over her head, padding out from behind the changing screen with a small frown.

Her husband sits on the edge of the bed with a scowl, the old bandages mostly unwrapped - only one portion around the worst of the wounds still stuck around the back of his torso.

"You should have waited, Braham - I was almost finished." Terra clicks her tongue, climbing up onto the bed to get behind him, carefully working at loosening the bandages, "Are you sure you should be changing these, yet?"

"Doctor said to change'em after three days, so I am." Braham stares straight ahead while she works, not flinching or interfering, "How's it, uh, looking back there?"

"Good, actually - you're healing quickly, thank the Spirits." Terra takes an extra moment to rub some healing salves into the skin, feeling his muscles tense and flex beneath her touch, before beginning to wrap the new bandages around him, "No sign of infection, just clean healing."

"That's a relief."

"It is." she works steadily, mind wandering as she ties up the bandage, "It could have been a lot worse, after all. I don't know what I would have done..."

"You know..." Braham hmms, "...never mind."

"What?"

"It's nothing, don't worry about it-"

"Braham." she doesn't like using her Commander voice on him - especially not since Primordus - but if he has something to say, "Tell me."

"I..." he pauses, and she recognizes his tone as the one he uses when he's hesitant, or unsure of her response, "I wonder what I look like, in your eyes."

Terra pauses, her hands still pressed to his back - wondering if she’d heard him right.

“What do you look like, through my eyes?” she repeats, voice soft, wondering how long he’s struggled with this thought. Since the battle? Or is this newer?

“It’s stupid, right?” he shrugs a shoulder, tries to laugh it off - the way he always does, Braham...- but there’s strain in his voice, “Forget about it, thanks for bandaging me-”

Terra presses her hands harder against his back - not into the wounds, but into the fleshy parts just below his shoulder blades - digging her nails in just a little, making his words cut off with a sharp breath, body tensing beneath her touch.

“What do you look like, to me?” she murmurs, voice even softer now as she leans in to exhale purposely against his neck, watching the way the hair rises in response, “You look like many things.”

She lets her hands drift down, soothing over wounded skin, letting her magic seep out and ease the pain just a touch - happy that he leans into her, even now, even after everything they’ve been through.

“You look like a strong Norn, proud and dedicated to his people.” her hands soothe down, then shift back up, up, to his shoulders.

“You look like a caring and loyal friend, one who’s put himself on the line for his party more times then I can count.” she shifts the touch down his arms, over muscles that bunch and then relax beneath her hands.

“You look like a loving and supportive father, who’s managed to put up with not one, but two sprout teenagers in the middle of all of this mess.”

That draws a laugh, even as her hands move back up his arms. “They’re not that bad, Ter...”

“They’re teenagers, Braham.” Terra monotones, drawing another chuckle as her hands move.

A chuckle that cuts off as she slips them beneath his arms and hugs him as far around the chest as she can, her cheek resting against his back.

“You look like a wonderful, attentive partner - one I could never have imagined I’d be lucky enough to have.” she turns her head to press a kiss to his skin, nipping him gently, “And you’re damn good looking, on top of being amazing in bed.”

That earns another startled laugh, this one filled with heat as a hand comes up to cover hers, and Terra grins against his back.

“You look like you, Braham. And I love you as you are.”

“Well, shit.” Braham’s still chuckling, but he sounds like himself, this time, and for that Terra is thankful, “How am I supposed to argue with all of that?”

“You’re not, dummy.” she laughs along with him, shifting on the bed when he turns and allowing herself to be pulled into his lap, happy and humming as his arms wrap around her. “Feeling better?”

“I am, thanks to you.” Braham beds to nuzzle her, breath warm on her face, “My light in the darkness.”

Terra smiles, nuzzling back at him. “And what about me, Braham?”

“Hmmmm?”

“What do I look like in your eyes?” she gives a wink, “With my petal hair, my glowing skin, and my spine of scales?”

Braham’s answer is immediate, spoken as he kisses her.

“You look like the woman I love.”

#GW2 #braham eirsson #braham/commander #braham/terra #oc: commander terra #post icebrood saga #prompt #ty for the prompt!#i haven't written these kids in a long time #they needed to get some feels out

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sk1fanfiction · 3 years

Text

the many faces of tom riddle, part 4

-attachment, orphanages, and yet more child psych: time to add yet another voice to the void-

FULL DISCLAIMER THAT THIS IS JUST MY OPINION OF A CHARACTER WHO DOESN’T HAVE THE STRONGEST CANON CHARACTERIZATION, AND THUS ALL THIS IS BASED ON MY CONCEPTUALIZATION.

I'm going to be super biased, because my favorite portrayal of Tom Riddle is actually Hero Fiennes-Tiffin as eleven-year-old Tom Riddle, in HBP and I get to chat about child psych in this one, sooo here we go.

First of all, I’m just so impressed that a kid could bring that much depth to such a complex character.

This is the portrayal, I feel, that brings us closest to Tom’s character. Yes, Coulson’s brought us pretty close, but by fifth year, the mask was on.

We don't really get to see Tom looking afraid very often, but it's fear that rules his life, so it's really poignant in our first (chronologically) introduction, he looks absolutely terrified.

The void being the fandom's loud opinions on a certain headmaster. I wouldn't call myself pro-Dumbledore, but I'm certainly not anti-Dumbledore, either. (Agnostic-Dumbledore??)

Since I'm not of the anti-Dumbledore persuasion, I decided to poke around in the tags and see what the arguments were, so I don't make comments out of ignorance.

Most of the tag seems to be more directed towards his treatment of Harry and Sirius, but a few people mentioned that Dumbledore should have treated Tom with ‘exceptional kindness’ and tried to ‘rehabilitate’ him.

As I said in Parts 2 and 3, I am 100% in favor of helping a traumatized kid learn to cope, and I don’t think Tom Riddle was solidly on the Path to Evil (TM) at birth, or even at eleven. Not even at fifteen.

Could unconditional love and kindness have helped Tom Riddle enough for the rise of Lord Voldemort to never happen? Possibly, but...

Yes, I'm about to drag up that Carl Jung quote, again.

“I am not what happened to me, I am what I choose to become.”

The problem with this is that if you’re going to blame Dumbledore for this, you also have to blame every other adult in Tom’s life: his headmaster, Dippet, his Head of House, Slughorn, his ‘caretakers’ at the orphanage, Mrs. Cole and Martha, and possibly more. In fact, if we're going to blame any adult, let's blame Merope for r*ping and abusing Tom Riddle Senior, and having a kid she wasn't intending to take care of.

Furthermore, you cannot possibly hold anyone but Tom accountable for the murders he committed. (I should not have to sit here and explain why cold-blooded murder is wrong.) And if you like Tom Riddle's character, insinuating that his actions are completely at the whim of others is just a bit condescending towards him. He's not an automaton or a marionette, he's a very intelligent human being with a functioning brain, and at sixteen is fully capable of moral reasoning and critical analysis.

I've heard the theories about Dumbledore setting the Potters up to die, and I'm not going to discuss their validity right now; but he didn't put a wand in Tom's hand and force him to kill anyone. Tom did it all of his own accord.

And while yes, I have enormous sympathy for what happened to Tom as a child, at some point, he decided to murder Myrtle Warren, and that is where I lose my sympathy. Experiencing trauma does not give you the right to inflict harm on others. Yes, Tom was failed, but then, he spectacularly failed himself.

We also have no idea how Dumbledore treated Tom as a student.

In the movies, it’s Dumbledore who tells Tom he has to go back to the orphanage, but in the books, it’s Dippet. We know that Slughorn spent a lot of time around Tom at Slug Club and such, yet I don’t really see people clamoring for his head.

I regard the sentiment that Dumbledore turned Tom Riddle into Lord Voldemort with a lot of skepticism.

But let's hear from the character himself -- his impression of eleven-year-old Tom Riddle.

“Did I know that I had just met the most dangerous Dark wizard of all time?” said Dumbledore. “No, I had no idea that he was to grow up to be what he is. However, I was certainly intrigued by him. I returned to Hogwarts intending to keep an eye upon him, something I should have done in any case, given that he was alone and friendless, but which, already, I felt I ought to do for others’ sake as much as his."

Now, assuming that Dumbledore's telling the truth, I'm not seeing something glaringly wrong with this. No, he hasn't pigeonholed Tom as evil, yes, I'd be intrigued, too, and it's a very good idea to keep an eye on Tom, for his own sake.

“At Hogwarts,” Dumbledore went on, “we teach you not only to use magic, but to control it. You have — inadvertently, I am sure — been using your powers in a way that is neither taught nor tolerated at our school."

Again, it seems like he's at least somewhat sympathetic towards Tom, and is willing to at least give him a chance.

More evidence (again, assuming Dumbledore is a reliable narrator):

Harry: “Didn’t you tell them [the other professors], sir, what he’d been like when you met him at the orphanage?” Dumbledore: “No, I did not. Though he had shown no hint of remorse, it was possible that he felt sorry for how he had behaved before and was resolved to turn over a fresh leaf. I chose to give him that chance.”

Now, I think Dumbledore is pretty awful with kids, but I don't think that's malicious. Yeah, it's a flaw, but perfect people don't exist, and perfect characters are dead boring. I am not saying that he definitely handled Tom's case well, I'm just saying that there's little evidence that Dumbledore, however shaken and scandalized, wrote him off as 'evil snake boy.'

It's also worth taking into account that it's 1938, and the attitudes towards mental health back then.

Why is Tom looking at Dumbledore like that, anyway? Why is he so scared? What has he possibly been threatened with or heard whispers of?

"'Professor'?" repeated Riddle. He looked wary. "Is that like 'doctor'? What are you here for? Did she get you in to have a look at me?"

"I don't believe you," said Riddle. "She wants me looked at, doesn't she? Tell the truth!"

"You can't kid me! The asylum, that's where you're from, isn't it? 'Professor,' yes, of course -- well, I'm not going, see? That old cat's the one who should be in the asylum. I never did anything to little Amy Benson or Dennis Bishop, and you can ask them, they'll tell you!

Tom keeps insisting he's not mad until Dumbledore finally manages to calm him down.

I'm really upset this wasn't in the movie, because it's important context. Instead we got these throwaway cutscenes of some knick-knacks relating to the Cave he's got lying around, but I just would have preferred to see him freaking out like he does in the book.

There was extreme stigma and prejudice towards mental illness.

'Lunatic asylums,' as they were called in Tom's time, were terrible places. In the 1930s and 40s, he could look forward to being 'treated' with induced convulsions, via metrazol, insulin, electroshock, and malaria injections. And if he stuck around long enough, he could even look forward to a lobotomy!

So, if you think Dumbledore was judgmental towards Tom, imagine how flat-out prejudiced whatever doctors or 'experts' Mrs. Cole might have gotten in to 'look at him' must have been!

Moving on to the next few shots, he is sitting down and hunched over as if expecting punishment or at least some kind of bad news, Dumbledore is mostly out of the frame. He’s trapped visually, by Dumbledore on one side, and a wall on the other, because he’s still very much afraid. uncomfortable, as he tells Dumbledore a secret that he fears could get him committed to an asylum (which were fucking horrible places, as I said).

It brings to the scene that miserable sense of isolation and loneliness to that has defined Tom’s entire life up to that point (and, partially due to his own bad choices, continues to define it).

And, when Dumbledore accepts it, his posture changes. he becomes more confident and more at ease, as he describes the... utilities of his magical abilities.

"All sorts," breathed Riddle. A flush of excitement was rising up his neck into his hollow cheeks; he looked fevered. "I can make things move without touching them. I can make animals do what I want them to do, without training them. I can make bad things happen to people who annoy me. I can make them hurt if I want to."

Riddle lifted his head. His face was transfigured: There was a wild happiness upon it, yet for some reason it did not make him better looking; on the contrary, his finely carved features seemed somehow rougher, his expression almost bestial.

I do think Harry, our narrator, is being a tad bit judgmental here. Magic is probably the only thing that brings Tom happiness in his grey, lonely world, and when I was Tom's age and being bullied, if I had magic powers, you'd better believe that I'd (a) be bloody ecstatic about it (b) use them. And, like Tom, I can't honestly say that I can't imagine getting a bit carried-away with it. Unfortunately, we can't all be as inherently good and kindhearted as Harry.

Reading HBP again, as a 'mature' person, it almost seems like the reader is being prompted to see Tom as evil just because he's got 'weird' facial expressions.

So... uh...

Nope, let's judge Tom on his actions, not looks of 'wild happiness.'

To his great surprise, however, Dumbledore drew his wand from an inside pocket of his suit jacket, pointed it at the shabby wardrobe in the corner, and gave the wand a casual flick. The wardrobe burst into flames. Riddle jumped to his feet; Harry could hardly blame him for howling in shock and rage; all his worldly possessions must be in there. But even as Riddle rounded on Dumbledore, the flames vanished, leaving the wardrobe completely undamaged.

Okay, one thing I dislike is Tom's lack of emotional affect when Dumbledore burned the wardrobe, in the books, he jumped up and started screaming, instead of looking passively (in shock, perhaps?) at the fire. Incidentally, I can't really tell if he's impressed or in shock, to be honest. I think they really tried to make Tom 'creepier' in the movie.

This is one of the incidents where Dumbledore's inability to deal with children crops up.

I think he was trying to teach Tom that magic can be dangerous, and he wouldn't like it to be used against him, but burning the wardrobe that contains everything he owns was a terrible move on Dumbledore's part. Tom already has very limited trust in other people, and now, he's not going to trust Dumbledore at all -- now, he's put Tom on the defensive/offensive for the rest of their interaction, and perhaps for the rest of their teacher-student relationship.

Riddle stared from the wardrobe to Dumbledore; then, his expression greedy, he pointed at the wand. "Where can I get one of them?"

"Where do you buy spellbooks?" interrupted Riddle, who had taken the heavy money bag without thanking Dumbledore, and was now examining a fat gold Galleon.

But I'm not surprised Tom is 'greedy.' He's grown up in an environment where if he wants something, whether that's affection, food, money, toys, he's got to take it. There's no one looking after his needs specifically. I'm not surprised that he's a thief and a hoarder, and I don't think that counts as a moral failing necessarily, and more of a maladaptive way of seeking comfort. It would be bizarre if he came out of Wool's Orphanage a complete saint.

Additionally, I think given that the Gaunt family has a history of 'mental instability,' Tom is a sensitive child, and the trauma of growing up institutionalized and possibly being treated badly due to his magical abilities or personality disorder deeply affected him.

And there are points where it seems that Dumbledore is quick to judge Tom.

"He was already using magic against other people, to frighten, to punish, to control."

"Yes, indeed; a rare ability, and one supposedly connected with the Dark Arts, although as we know, there are Parselmouths among the great and the good too. In fact, his ability to speak to serpents did not make me nearly as uneasy as his obvious instincts for cruelty, secrecy, and domination."

"I trust that you also noticed that Tom Riddle was already highly self-sufficient, secretive, and, apparently, friendless?..."

And while this is all empirically true, these are (a) a product of Tom's harsh environment, and (b) do not necessarily make him evil. But the point remains that child psych didn't exist as a field of its own, and psychology as a proper science was in its infancy, so I'd be shocked if Dumbledore was insightful about Tom's situation.

But I've gone a ton of paragraphs without citing anything, so I've got to rectify that.

Let's talk about Harry Harlow's monkey experiments in the 1950-70s.

If you're not a fan of animal research, since I know some people are uncomfortable with it, feel free to scroll past.

Here's the TL;DR: Children need to be hugged and shown affection too, not just fed and clothed, please don't leave babies to 'cry out' and ignore their needs because it's backwards and fucking inhumane. HUG AND COMFORT AND CODDLE CHILDREN AND SPOIL THEM WITH AFFECTION!

I will put more red writing when the section is over.

This is still an interesting experiment to have in mind while we explore the whole 'no one taught Tom Riddle how to love' thing and whether or not it's actually a good argument.

Andddd let's go all the way back to the initial 1958 experiment, featured in Harlow's paper, the Nature of Love. (If you're familiar with Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs, him and Harlow actually collaborated for a time).

To give you an idea of our starting point, until Harlow's experiment, which happened twenty years after Dumbledore meets Tom for the first time, no one in science had really been interested in studying love and affection.

"Psychologists, at least psychologists who write textbooks, not only show no interest in the origin and development of love or affection, but they seem to be unaware of its very existence."

I'm going to link some videos of Harry Harlow showing the actual experiment, which animal rights activists would probably consider 'horrifying.' It's nothing gory or anything, but if you are particularly soft-hearted (and I do not mean that as an insult), be warned. It's mostly just baby monkeys being very upset and Harlow discussing it in a callous manner. Yes, today it would be considered unethical, but it's still incredibly important work and if you think you can handle it, I would recommend watching at least the first one to get an idea of how dramatic this effect is.

Dependency when frightened

The full experiment

The TL;DW:

This experiment was conducted with rhesus macaques; they're still used in psychology/neuroscience research when you want very human-like subjects, because they are very intelligent (unnervingly so, actually). I'd say that adult ones remind me of a three-year old child.

Harlow separated newborn monkeys from their mothers, and cared for their physical needs. They had ample nutrition, bedding, warmth, et cetera. However, the researchers noticed that the monkeys:

(a) were absolutely miserable. And not just that, but although all their physical needs were taken care of, they weren't surviving well past the first few days of life. (This has also been documented in human babies, and it's called failure to thrive and I'll talk about it a bit later).

(b) showed a strong attachment to the gauze pads used to cover the floor, and decided to investigate.

So, they decided to provide a surrogate 'mother.' Two, actually. Mother #1 was basically a heated fuzzy doll that was nice for the monkeys to cuddle with. Mother #2 was the same, but not fuzzy and made of wire. Both provided milk. The result? The monkeys spent all their time cuddling and feeding from the fuzzy 'mother.' Perhaps not surprising.

What Harlow decided next, is that one of the hallmarks being attached to your caregiver is seeking hugs and reassurance from them when frightened. So, when the monkeys were presented with something scary, they'd go straight to the cloth mother and ignore the wire one. Not only that, but when placed in an unfamiliar environment, if the cloth mother was present, the monkeys would be much calmer.

In a follow-up experiment, Harlow decided to see if there was some sort of sensitive period by introducing both 'mothers' to monkeys who had been raised in isolation for 250 days. Guess what?

The initial reaction of the monkeys to the alterations was one of extreme disturbance. All the infants screamed violently and made repeated attempts to escape the cage whenever the door was opened. They kept a maximum distance from the mother surrogates and exhibited a considerable amount of rocking and crouching behavior, indicative of emotionality.

Yikes. So, at first Harlow thought that they'd passed some kind of sensitive period for socialization. But after a day or two they calmed down and started chilling out with the cloth mother like the other monkeys did. But here's a weird thing:

That the control monkeys develop affection or love for the cloth mother when she is introduced into the cage at 250 days of age cannot be questioned. There is every reason to believe, however, that this interval of delay depresses the intensity of the affectional response below that of the infant monkeys that were surrogate-mothered from birth onward

All these things... attachment, affection, love, seeking comfort ... are mostly learned behaviours.

Over.

Orphanages, institutionalized childcare, and why affection is a need, not an extra.

His face is lit the exact same was as Coulson’s was in COS (half-light, half-dark), and I said I was going to talk about this in Part 3. I think perhaps it's intended to make Fiennes-Tiffin look more evil or menacing, but I'm going to quite deliberately misinterpret it.

Now, for some context, Dumbledore has just (kind of) burned his wardrobe, ratted out his stealing habit, and (in the books only, they really took a pair of scissors to this scene) told him he needs to go apologize and return everything and Dumbledore will know if he doesn't, and, well, Tom's not exactly a happy bugger about it.

But interestingly, in the books, this is when we start to see Tom's 'persona,' aka his mask, start to come into play. Whereas before, he was screaming, howling, and generally freaking out, here, he starts to hide his emotions -- in essence, obscure his true self under a shadow. So this scene is really the reverse of Coulson's in COS.

And perhaps I'm reading wayyy too much into this, but I can't help but notice that Coulson's hair is parted opposite to Fiennes-Tiffin's, and the opposite sides of their faces are shadowed, too.

Riddle threw Dumbledore a long, clear, calculating look. "Yes, I suppose so, sir," he said finally, in an expressionless voice.

Riddle did not look remotely abashed; he was still staring coldly and appraisingly at Dumbledore. At last he said in a colorless voice, "Yes, sir."

Here's an article from The Atlantic on Romanian orphanages in the 1980s, when the dictator, Ceausescu, basically forced people to have as many children as possible and funnel them into institutionalized 'childcare', and it's absolutely heartbreaking.

There's not a whole lot of information out there on British orphanages in the 30s' and 40s', but given that people back then thought you just had to keep children on a strict schedule and feed them, it wouldn't have a whole lot better.

The only thing I've found is this, and it's not super promising.

The most important study informing the criteria for contemporary nosologies, was a study by Barbara Tizard and her colleagues of young children being raised in residential nurseries in London (Tizard, 1977). These nurseries had lower child to caregiver ratios than many previous studies of institutionalized children. Also, the children were raised in mixed aged groups and had adequate books and toys available. Nevertheless, caregivers were explicitly discouraged from forming attachments to the children in their care.

Here's a fairly recent paper that I think gives a good summary: Link

Here, they describe the responses to the Strange Situation test (which tests a child's attachment to their caregiver).

We found that 100% of the community sample received a score of “5,” indicating fully formed attachments, whereas only 3% of the infants living in institutions demonstrated fully formed attachments. The remaining 97% showed absent, incomplete, or odd and abnormal attachment behaviors.

Bowlby and Ainsworth, who did the initial study, thought that children would always attach to their caregivers, regardless of neglect or abuse. But some infants don't attach (discussed along with RAD in Part 2).

Here's a really good review paper on attachment disorders in currently or formerly institutionalized children : Link

Core features of RAD in young children include the absence of focused attachment behaviors directed towards a preferred caregiver, failure to seek and respond to comforting when distressed, reduced social and emotional reciprocity, and disturbances of emotion regulation, including reduced positive affect and unexplained fearfulness or irritability.

Which all sounds a lot like Tom in this scene. The paper also discusses neurological effects, like atypical EEG power distribution (aka brain waves), which can correlate with 'indiscriminate' behavior and poor inhibitory control; which makes sense for a kid who, oh, I don't know, hung another kid's rabbit because they were angry.

Furthermore...

...those children with more prolonged institutional rearing showed reduced amygdala discrimination and more indiscriminate behavior.

This again, makes a ton of sense for Tom's psychological profile, because the amygdala (which is part of the limbic system, which regulates emotions) plays a major role in fear, anger, anxiety, and aggression, especially with respect to learning, motivation and memory.

So, I agree completely that Tom needed a lot of help, especially given the fact that he spent eleven years in an orphanage (longer than the Bucharest study I was referring to), and Dumbledore wasn't exactly understanding of his situation, and probably didn't realise what a dramatic effect the orphanage had on Tom, and given the way he talks to Tom, probably treated him as if he were a kid who grew up in a healthy environment.

In case you are still unconvinced that hugging is that important, there's a famous 1944 study conducted on 40 newborn human infants to see what would happen if their physical needs (fed, bathed, diapers changed) were provided for with no affection. The study had to be stopped because half the babies died after four months. Affection leads to the production of hormones and boosts the immune system, which increases survival, and that is why we hug children and babies should not be in orphanages. They are supposed to be hugged, all the time. I can't find the citation right now, I'll add it later if I find it.

But I think it's vastly unrealistic to say that Dumbledore, who grew up during the Victorian Era, would have any grasp of this and I don't think he was actively malicious towards Tom.

Was Tom Riddle failed by institutional childcare? Absolutely.

Were the adults in his life oblivious to his situation? Probably.

Do the shitty things that happened to Tom excuse the murders he committed, and are they anyone's fault but his own? No. At the end of the day, Tom made all the wrong choices.

And, for what it's worth, I think (film) Dumbledore (although he expresses the same sentiment in more words in the books) wishes he could go back in time and have helped Tom.

"Draco. Years ago, I knew a boy, who made all the wrong choices. Please, let me help you."

#tom riddle #the many faces of #tom marvolo riddle #character analysis #character study #albus dumbledore

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mochegato · 3 years

Text

Hope on Board

Chapter 27 – The Time Has Come to Talk of Many Things

Chapter 1 Chapter 26

Nightwing landed on the roof Chat had taken Marinette to and immediately rushed over to her. He took a moment to study her, looking for any new indications of injury or distress. Assured there was none, he pulled her into a tight hug, unable to withhold touching her any longer. He needed to know she was safe. He needed to feel her in his arms, have that familiar weight. He needed to hear her reassuring, even breathing, to calm his own erratic breathing.

Marinette let out a surprised squeak and looked over to Chat in confusion. Chat stared at Nightwing with a concerned frown but didn’t move to detach him from her. Nightwing pulled away just enough to look at her face. He’d missed being able to look in her eyes. He cursed his mask being between them. Even with the mask, her eyes were sparkling in the moonlight but he would bet his guitar that her eyes would look even more beautiful, the sparkling even brighter, if he didn’t have his mask on. He reached up to cup her face, but she stepped back before he could reach her.

Marinette eyed him suspiciously and looked back to Chat to see what his reaction would be. Honestly, the most curious part of the whole situation was Chat just sitting back and letting Nightwing touch her like this. Something was going on and they both knew what it was. Chat would never allow just anyone to touch her in such an intimate way. He barely allowed it when Dick did it and he knew she had liked that contact. She turned back to Nightwing with a slight look of fear. If Chat was allowing him to touch her like this, what were they hiding?

Chat looked back and forth between the two for a few seconds before speaking up awkwardly. “Well, I think you’re in safe hands now, Princess,” he nodded to Nightwing with a severe glare. “I’ll leave you two to talk.”

He gave a two-finger salute to them and jumped back toward the Court’s base. Marinette gave him a confused frown and turned back to Nightwing and raised a curious brow at him, her breathing picking up slightly. She waited a few moments for Nightwing to say something, but he seemed just as uncomfortable as Chat had, and unwilling to start the conversation. “Is everyone okay? Is Dick okay? Did anyone check on him? If they wanted my son, they may have wanted him as well.”

“Everyone is fine,” Nightwing assured her gently, his expression softening slightly from her concern.

Marinette let out a sigh of relief but then noticed how he was standing. He was cradling his side in a very familiar way. In the same way she and Chat would cradle their sides when they were injured in battle. “You’re hurt!” she exclaimed, rushing toward him to examine the wound.

“I’ll be fine,” he tried to protest, but Marinette wouldn’t hear it. She gave him an unimpressed look and pulled on his hand to move it. He reluctantly took his hand from the claw marks for her to examine. He hissed at her gentle prodding to gauge the severity of the wounds. “Stitches at least,” she mused. “You have someone that does that for you?”

“I do,” he nodded in affirmation, “back in the Cave.”

She nodded in approval, but the furrowed brow and slight frown of concern stayed in her expression. Nightwing rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly and looked around them. The buildings were mostly uninhabited, but there were still a lot of floors that could be occupied and have people watching them. He couldn’t just pull his mask off here and he couldn’t act too intimate in case someone saw and figured out who he was. “Are you really okay? Are the babies okay? Did they do anything to you? Why didn’t you wait for us?”

She blinked a few times to process the onslaught of questions. “I knew Chat would come but I didn’t know he was bringing the cavalry,” she pouted. Honestly, did he lecture everyone he saved? “I didn’t know how long it would take him to find me and I sure as hell wasn’t just going to sit back and let them take me to a secondary location or use me and the babies as a human shield. Do I look like a damsel in distress?”

“It was incredibly dangerous,” Nightwing objected, trying to fight down his admiration of her fiery streak. He always knew she was fierce and feisty, but he hadn’t realized just how capable she was. Her belly looked like it weighed more than the rest of her, and she had still managed to make her way halfway to freedom on her own and help fight, albeit not much, in the last fight. “They could have killed you for trying to escape.”

“I can protect myself,” she answered indignantly. “I knew they wanted the babies for some reason, so they weren’t going to hurt me too badly and risk harming them, which gave me an advantage because I had no such qualms. I was willing to do what I had to in order to protect my babies,” she protested, laying both her hands over her belly in a protective gesture. “It was more dangerous for me to just sit around and hope.”

“Well, you definitely never have been the wait around type,” Nightwing chuckled affectionately. He watched her intently for a few moments, a concerned frown settling on his lips. “You sure you’re going to be okay? An ordeal like this… maybe it would be better to stay somewhere with better security for a while.”

Marinette raised an eyebrow at him. “You have a suggestion?”

Nightwing rubbed the back of his neck. It was now or never… well not never, but he had to do it now. He’d put it off for too long. She’d waited for too long. He took a deep breath to ground himself and prepare for the long overdue conversation. “Marinette, I…” His reveal was interrupted by Marinette groaning in pain and crouching down. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“No. I knew I shouldn’t have tempted fate. That was a contraction,” she looked down at her belly for a few moments. When she looked back up, her eyes were sparkling with surprise and anxiety and anticipation. Finally, her eyes seemed to settle on concern. “And I’m really early.”

“The doctor said you probably would be,” Nightwing said with a calm he didn’t actually feel. His tone was even but his mind was going faster than Wally trying to break a sound barrier. Everything that they needed to do, everything that might happen, everything that they had yet to discuss. But the most important thing right now was getting Marinette to a hospital. He reached out to guide her to the stairs.

“How did you know that?” She asked suspiciously, pulling her arm away from him.

“We need to get you to the hospital,” he answered instead, attempting to guide her toward the door to the stairway again. Once they were in the safety of the stairwell, he touched his ear. “Agent A, we need a car here immediately to take us to the hospital and a change of clothes, if you could.”

She shook her head and took a deep breath and let it out slowly grimacing in pain. “I need to contact Dick. He should know.”

Nightwing smiled lovingly at her. He ran his hand over her hair and cupped her face. “I’m right here.”

Marinette batted his hand away and furrowed her brow with an annoyed huff. “No offense, but I couldn’t give less of a fuck if you’re here. He’s the father, he should know. He’ll want to be there.”

“Marinette…” he took off his mask and looked to her with soft eyes. “I’m here.”

Marinette stared in awe at him for a few seconds. “Dick…” She touched his face carefully, reverently, like she didn’t believe it.

“It’s me, Mari,” he said again, more gently this time, more vulnerable. He reached out to touch her again, this time she let him. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. This is what I didn’t tell you before.”

She shook her head blankly. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she muttered.

“What?” Dick asked, quirking his head to the side. He expected a lot of different reactions to his reveal. That was not one of them. He was fully prepared for anger, hoping for forgiveness, but expected annoyance.

She looked up at the ceiling with an annoyed glare. “Very fucking funny.” Suddenly she gripped his hand hard and let out a pained whine. “Of course I’d end up with a hero.” She looked back up at him as they slowly made their way down the stairs. She suddenly stopped and stood rigidly straight. “Oh my God, I was wearing a Nightwing shirt and you were wearing a ladybug shirt when we met.” She groaned and bent over. “How did I miss that!”

“It’s okay, just breathe through it,” Nightwing encouraged her, rubbing reassuring circles on her back.

“That was a groan of frustration not pain. I should have called that, the cosmic joke that my life is.” She turned to face him with a narrow-eyed glare. “But if you say that to me when I do have a contraction, I’ll make you understand the pain making me make that sound.” She turned forward again and started making her way slowly down the stairs. “Just breathe through it,” she mocked.

Nightwing grimaced. “Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “That’s what the videos said to say. To help breathe through the contractions. Relaxing your muscles as much as possible and focusing on breathing instead, makes the pain seem less intense.”

“What kind of an idiot came up with that idea? Guarantee it was a man. Silly women, just breathe,” she continued in a mocking tone. “I’ll perform an appendectomy on him and see how just breathing helps him with the pain,” she grunted as she waddled down the stairs.

She paused mid stride and groaned in pain again. Nightwing was at her side in an instant, holding her hand and rubbing the small of her back and applying pressure to try to offset the contractions. As soon as the contraction passed, Marinette watched him analytically. He was suddenly very close to her, his face mere centimeters from hers as he encouraged her. She quirked her lips to the side, trying to figure out how she felt.

Dick was here. He was here! He had come to rescue her. And likely everything he had done, everything he had lied about, was related to his secret identity. But it was more than that, wasn’t it? It was more than just the secret. She was keeping secrets from him, secrets she wasn’t ready to share until or unless she trusted him and she didn’t, not anymore. She narrowed her eyes at him again. “This is what you couldn’t tell me? This is what you lied to me about?” she asked confused. “You knew about my history with Chat and still thought I wouldn’t understand this?”

“I was tracking down a plot by the Court of Owls. When the talon said they had to change plans due to their latest failure, my team was the one that caused that. That was where I was going when we had that fight,” he answered quietly.

“And you thought, what? I wouldn’t understand? I’d freak out? Demand you leave it to be with me?” she demanded indignantly.

“I thought…” he hedged, his voice uncertain. “I thought I needed to protect you and if you knew you’d stop me. But I needed to do it. I needed to know I had protected you and our family.”

She gripped his hand and squeezed it, letting out a scream of pain and breathing heavily. “You absolute bastard.”

“Yeah, deserved,” he looked away guiltily.

“Oh, thank you for your permission,” she bit out harshly. “You’re damn right it’s deserved. Do you know how miserable I was when I realized you had lied to me? How confused I was? How lost I was? And you wouldn’t even try to give any kind of an explanation. Nothing! I questioned everything. I thought you and your friends were doing something illegal. And then I was wrestling with myself because that didn’t seem right at all, but if that wasn’t it, I couldn’t figure out why you would hide it. So then I thought maybe you were getting forced into something you didn’t want to do, but then your family seemed to know what was going on so I thought that was unlikely. I thought you didn’t care about me.” She shook her head to try to calm her anger and returned to his words. “What was I to you then? An inconvenience you had to handle while you ran away to do your macho man business?”

“No! No, Marinette. I… was stupid and I was so caught up in protecting you and our babies, I… I’m sorry,” he pled.

“You certainly are.” She shook her head and opened her mouth to continue berating him but let out another scream instead.

“Those are really close together.” He took note of the time to start calculating the time between contractions and made a mental calculation of how much longer it should take Alfred to get there. “Agent A should be here in just a few minutes,” Nightwing assured her.

“Agent A?”

“Alfred,” he elucidated.

“Of course,” she sighed with a nod. Her eyes suddenly opened wide. “Oh God, it’s your whole family isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he grimaced at her tone.

She shook her head again. “Figures.” She glared up at the sky again. “A normal life. That’s all I asked for. As normal as possible. But noooooo. Can’t let even one thing be normal. Can’t get a freaking break, because Destiny is a petty, mean bitch and has to get their sticky, meddling fingers into everything,” she muttered bitterly. She looked over to Dick with pursed lips and sighed. “Better put on your mask again unless you’re ready to let all Gotham know your identity.”

Dick’s eyes got wide again. “Oh Right!” He pulled the domino mask out of his pocket and affixed it again before pushing open the door to the sidewalk and the waiting car.

Tags:

@dickinette-february @demonicbusiness @ichigorose @iloontjeboontje @ladybug-182 @toodaloo-kangaroo @dast218 @golden-promises @trippingovermyfeet @emimar7 @laurcad123 @lady-bee-fechin @thewitchwhowaited @redscarlet95 @jayjayspixiepop

#maribat #Dickinette February #dickinette #platonic jasonette #platonic adrienette #Hope on Board #Knocked Up AU #prompt - moonlight/sparkle

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youngerdrgrey · 3 years

Text

[excerpt from] I know you (even if you don't want me to) - chapter seven

since I'm hearing how hungry y'all are (cough @aliyahtheghost + @breeleroux especially), here's the start of chapter seven of I know you (even if you don't want me to) -- Ryan's recovery period is nearly up, so Batwoman is (almost) back bbs. Read on for some roommate talk into some WildMoore texting goodness. This chapter is a true fav.

(includes some talk of police brutality / Crow brutality + violence)

Ryan hops from one foot to the other. She keeps the pressure mostly on the pads of her feet. Light and nimble. Finally back at full form with only one day left in her two week recovery period. She’d do a flip if it wouldn’t make Mary’s head explode. Or disrupt the perfect tuck of her Center Volunteer shirt. Then again, Mary does anxiously hover in the doorway of Ryan’s bathroom. Maybe she’ll explode on her own.

“Mary, seriously?” Ryan reaches for her favorite purple lipstick. “I’m making mocktails and guarding the punch bowl. I’m not even dancing. Doctor’s orders.”

The doctor in question stabs a finger out at Ryan. Mary manages to look menacing even in her little scrubs. “If you so much as think about doing the Wobble—” She stomps into the bathroom.

It’s truly one of the greatest dances of all mankind. Ryan crosses her lipstick tube across her heart.

Mary continues, “I’m leaving you to climb up the stairs on your own. No ice pack, or pain meds, or anything.” Mary takes a deep breath. “Fortunately for you….” She walks over to Ryan to adjust the hair on Ryan’s shoulder. “I know someone who might help you out. Depending on how well your side mission is going.”

If they can call Ryan talking to Sophie a side mission. Ryan applies her lipstick and rubs her lips together.

Mary bats expectant eyes towards the mirror. “You’ve been getting along. Can I draft up the offer letter?”

Ryan smacks her lips. “She’s still a Crow, Mary.”

“A Crow you spent, like, all of yesterday on the phone with.”

Ryan didn’t spend all of yesterday on the phone with Sophie. In the morning, they texted about how awful the playlist for the dance might be. Then they swapped bad songs in the afternoon. Ryan’s personal favorite was a religious remix of ‘The Thong Song’ that truly had to be a parody. (“That God, Go-God, God, God.”) Then they told their personal dance horror stories after Sophie was off work. There were breaks.

Before Ryan can defend herself, her phone lights up from beside the sink. Sophie’s name flashes, and Ryan’s got her phone in her hands in seconds. Mary snorts.

Crowphie to Ryan Have fun making Shirley Temples all night. Here’s hoping someone will forget their school ID so there’s some action at the ticket table

Ryan leans her hip into the sink as she types.

Ryan to Crowphie 👀 You’re looking for action at a school dance?

Crowphie to Ryan Oh yeah, fingers crossed my crush saves me a slow one.

It’s a joke. It has to be, but Ryan thinks back to each near moment between them and feels hope and heat in her cheeks.

Ryan to Crowphie Too bad Batwoman doesn’t do dances

Crowphie to Ryan That’s probably for the best. We’re not on the best terms right now.

Not since the night Sophie rejected Batwoman. The night of “Figure that out, and get back to me. Until you do, I’m done.” Did she really mean that?

Ryan to Crowphie What happened there? She miss a signal flip this week?

Crowphie to Ryan haven’t used it. I doubt she’d want me to. I think I hurt her feelings.

That’s an understatement.

Mary clears her throat behind Ryan. Ryan glances up into the mirror to see Mary’s reflection. The teasing grin matches the tilt in Mary’s voice as she says, “You were saying? About not texting Sophie all day?”

Ryan narrows her eyes as dramatically as she can. “Don’t you have lives to save?”

Mary backs away. “Fine, go back to texting, just think about how much fun you could have talking to Sophie on the comms if she were part of the team.”

Ryan can’t help the sarcasm. “Because me and Luke have so much fun?”

“Obviously it’d be a different kind of fun. Less brother-sister fighting and more….” Mary pauses to think and cringes at whatever she thinks of. Ryan turns around to gently push Mary out of her bathroom.

“Good night, Mary!” she says before closing the door behind her roommate. She probably should’ve stepped out there too, come to think of it. Her phone buzzes again though.

Crowphie to Ryan I do miss going up to the roof. You know, feeling like I’m a part of something, even if I never will be

Ryan drops down onto the stool in the bathroom. It’s an accessibility aid that’s kind of perfect for moments like this. She can take her time. Process without having to actually move around in here. Close her eyes and remember what the wind of the rooftop felt like against her cheeks. With the suit tight to her body and all of Gotham below them. Sophie looks amazing up there.

Ryan to Crowphie You could go flip the signal. Send out that city-wide ‘you up?’ Or an actual you up since you have her number.

Sophie hasn’t texted Batwoman once in the last two weeks.

Crowphie to Ryan You don’t understand.

Ryan chuckles. She’s the only other person that could.

Ryan to Crowphie No, I get it. You could text her if you wanted to talk. Going up there would mean that you want to see her. You want to be with her.

Want to touch her the way Ryan did that night on the roof. The pads of her fingers over Sophie’s waist, their faces so close that it’s a wonder Sophie hasn’t recognized her yet. It goes to show that Sophie’s not that into Ryan as Ryan. Hasn’t memorized the way her jaw sits, or the shade of her eyes.

Crowphie to Ryan yeah

Yeah what? Yeah which? Because Sophie didn’t say it back.

Ryan to Crowphie So you admit it? You want Batwoman?

The typing dots come and go, then come again. Maybe it’s not about Batwoman at all. Maybe Sophie just wants to make out on the roof and be a part of the team. She wants to be Batwoman’s friend with benefits and can’t bring herself to admit it. Fine. Don’t admit anything.

Ryan to Crowphie Can’t blame you. She looks good in the suit 😏 — probably looks good out of it too lol

A perfect cop out for the cop.

Crowphie to Ryan If I wanted to see her without the mask, I could have. We flew together, remember?

Ryan tenses. A painful chill zips down her spine. Does Sophie know? Has she known all this time?

Crowphie to Ryan I didn’t look then because it’s not about her looks or who’s behind the mask. She makes me think. Both Batwomen have. 1.0 got me suspended. It’s the closest I’ve ever come to leaving the Crows. But it wasn’t about everyone then, you know? Jacob Kane hated Batwoman, and I really liked her. Those couldn’t exist at the same time. Meanwhile, 2.0 will not remove her boots from my neck. She’s like you in that way. She takes every opportunity to question my loyalty to the Crows and the people of Gotham. I just wish I knew if I was doing the same. If I was more than just another compromise for her

Fuck, it’s a good thing that they’re texting. Ryan’s whole face burns with that message. Since when is Sophie questioning anything? She never wavers.

Ryan to Crowphie Your Crow-workers beat the shit out of Batwoman 1.0, and you stayed.

Crowphie to Ryan Where else was I supposed to go? The GCPD? I *HATE* what they did, but that will NEVER happen again.

Ryan to Sophie And if it does?

She’s being generous by not saying “when it does.”

Crowphie to Ryan Then I slap my resume on the Bat-signal and hope she doesn’t throw it in the shredder.

Ryan to Crowphie Much more fun to use it for target practice.

Crowphie to Ryan Throw a bunch of Batarangs at it?

Ryan to Crowphie See, you get it 😉

Crowphie to Ryan It’s important to me that little Black girls can see women like us in law enforcement and positions of powers. I want them to know that they can save the world if they want to. It’s not their responsibility, but if it’s their purpose? If protecting people makes them happy, then I want them to know that they are not alone out there. They can make a difference.

There are so many other ways to make a difference. Ryan might have to let Sophie have this for now though. Her heart’s in the right place at least.

Ryan to Crowphie And if that doesn’t work out, there’s always being a ticket taker for a community dance. Shine that flashlight. Ruin somebody’s night!

Crowphie to Ryan Wowww. Spoken like a trouble maker.

Ryan to Crowphie Trouble finds me, okay? No need to worry about me, Agent Moore.

Crowphie to Ryan You sure about that? Your kids might try to fight you, just to see if you’ve still got it.

Ryan to Crowphie Oh I’ve got it. They’ll be too busy following you around to even notice me. Ol’ “Miss Sophie, Miss Sophie” punk asses

Crowphie to Ryan LOL. Ten bucks says they ask me where Batwoman’s been hiding.

Ryan to Crowphie Twenty says they don’t.

Crowphie to Ryan Easy money. You can drop it off at the lobby on your way in 😉

more to come when I drop the rest of the chapter! reply and let me know if you're still with me. try and guess what happens at the dance?

#wildmoore #sophie moore #ryan wilder #batwoman fic #fic: i know you even if you don't want me to #in a fun turn of events it's actually Luke and Mary that have slowed down this chapter. we love them. they got carried away though.#mine #batwoman #ryan x sophie #aliyahtheghost #breeleroux

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dreamties · 4 years

Text

Soft Michael Myers x Neutral! S/O HCs

A/n- This honestly is mostly just what type of physical attention/touch Michael enjoys and at what point in the relationship he’s okay with it. Some of it borderlines a little bit angsty, but for the most part it’s just fluff.

Like, maybe even too fluffy. Also very long, I had a lot of thoughts with this specific “prompt”.

Michael does have the potential to be soft and sweet, and totally romantic. Just not in the same way or to the same extent as most people. It takes this level of emotional vulnerability and trust and time- so much fucking time- for him to reach it though. He's never going to excitedly scoop you up in his arms, he'll never give big romantic gestures, and dates aren't really a thing in his book- but my God will he show you how much he loves you and appreciates you. Just always in his own way. In his own strange and somewhat detached way. Michael has spent so much of his life removed from himself, with only one purpose- and that is to kill. To feel life wither away in his hands. His victims shaky and scared, and screaming till there throats hurt. And showing no mercy or regret. And when he meets you, something changes within him. He feels somewhat startled by this. There's a part of himself that's been locked deep down, and he wasn't sure if there was anything even there- and there was. This part of him that cares, and loves. For once Michael has another purpose in life. He isn't solely on this earth to kill Laurie or the countless other people. He now needs to be here for you. To protect you. And love you. And that is a whole nother world of terrifying just on it's own. It's the first time your looking into the deep pits of his mask, as he looms over you. Most people would have run in fear by now, long before he was even able to approach them- and you just stand there. Not scared, not shocked, just curious. And despite what a monster he knows he is- you make him feel almost...human. Almost normal.

It’s Headcanon Time, Baby!

I’ve said it once, and I’ll say it again! Any type of physical attention and touching requires the upmost trust and vulnerability with each other. And this goes for small things like hand holding, or tapping his shoulder to get his attention! (more on that last one later)

You have to go very slow with things in the relationship, and within time build up to bigger interactions. Michael needs to feel comfortable and safe around you, and he needs to know you feel the same.

Michael's a pretty tolerant guy, but even he has his limitations and boundaries.

For example, Michael doesn't like when you sneak up on him. If he's deep in thought, and you tap him from behind, he will not appreciate it. He won't snap and he won't be all spooked, but he will feel uncomfortable. He finds it...invasive.

He enjoys being in control of situations, so by (unknowingly) taking away the initial control by sneaking up on him- it makes him feel unnerved and uncomfortable.

Also, not to mention that for fifteen years of his life he was in Smith’s Grove. The very limited contact he had with people were nurses, and security guards, and fucking doctors. People that feared what he could do- feared his existence. But had to help him, and just- you could see how it might bother him, couldn’t you?

You slowly pick up on these details about him though, and you’re able to avoid them-and Michael honestly adores you for that. You make him feel so safe and loved. He’s never felt that before.

Michael feels more comfortable with his mask on, it’s sort of an extension of himself- so he very rarely removes it.

When it comes to kissing.

For a while, kisses are only on places like his shoulders, or the small space on his neck between where his mask ends and his shirt begins. And gentle, gentle ones on the cheek of his mask. And you seem so unbothered that you're not able to give him a good, proper kiss.

Which he’s confused about. He’d love to feel your lips, soft and wet, against his own. You don’t fuss though, and you go at Michael’s pace.

When he finally takes off his mask around you, his kisses are always rough and hungry, yet somehow so incredibly patient with you.

Now, for hands.

Hands are an odd thing for him. It goes from "I just took a life with my own hands" to "I am holding the love of my life in my hands" really quick. Part of him, deep down, is scared he'll hurt you. He has the necessary control not to, and he'd never want to- but some irrational side of him is horrified by that.

And he doesn't voice those concerns(I mean he doesn't really talk much, especially not about f e e l i n g s)- but it's something that you just inherently know. Most likely from the way he tentatively shows his hands to you, bloodied and slashed. You might not grasp it in entirely though.

Every night(especially after a hunt), you'll hold his hands in yours. You'll squeeze, gentle yet firm, and Michael knows what this means- "Hey, I'm here. I still love you, you're not going to hurt me."

His hands get really grimy from killings, and he gets a ton of blood and dirt trapped in his fingernails. He doesn't bother trying to clean it out. I'd imagine he might get little cuts or bruises on his hands as well!

Anyways, you help him wash his hands every night. He's a little stubborn about it at first, you offer it to him one night, and he just freezes up at the thought. He doesn't want you seeing his victim's blood on his hands, he doesn't want you to be apart of and in the know of that side of him. He doesn't want to scare you off.

But when he finally let's you, you're so gentle with him. You delicately scrub each finger, with warm, soapy water. The two of you sit in silence as you do so. Sometimes you'll hum a calming tune, and it makes Michael sort of happy.

Michael definitely wouldn't let you do this every time, but you'll also kiss his hands once you're done washing them??🥺🥺 A subtle reminder that you love every part of him, no matter how unlovable a killers hands would seem.

Other Wonderful Tidbits:

Cuddling- He likes the feeling of it, but he doesn’t reciprocate as eagerly. He’ll wrap his big arms around you, and hold on tight. You’ll snuggle up closer to him, loosely holding onto him as you fall asleep in his arms.

For the longest time, Michael would be stiff as a board as you hugged him. So unused to warm and sickly sweet touches as your own, that all he can manage are brief thoughts of how your arms feel tucked around his frame or the smell of your shampoo as you bury your face in the crook of his neck.

Sometimes- if you’re on the couch together or in bed- he’ll pull you into his lap. without any prompting from you(not that you’d give too much in the first place). And he’ll just hold you there. Mask taken off, allowing you to curiously play with his hair. Leaving tender kisses along his jawline.

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angelkurenai · 4 years

Text

Imagine trying to find a way to tell your boyfriend, Stefan, that there is a chance of you being pregnant with his child.

“Seriously?!” Elena all-but-exclaimed, earning a good few looks from people around you, that even with your apologetic smile didn't think a second before giving you glares . Even for a cafe full of people chatting, that was very loud “You've gotta be kidding me!”

But your friend was apparently not giving a single care because she was too busy trying to grasp onto what you were telling her. Which, you had to be honest, you couldn't blame her for. But you had hoped that by telling her instead of any of the rest of you friends first, it would have earned a mostly calm reaction. You had been incredibly wrong and now wished it was Bonnie that first found out.

“Elena!” you whisper-hissed “Could you stop channeling your inner Caroline for just one second and focus on more important facts here? I'm in the middle of freaking out myself and this close, seriously this close to having a panic attack right here and now, I would really appreciate it if you could stand by my side as the calm, collected and reasonable friend I knew you to be in this group?”

“Alright. Alright.” she raised her hands a bit to calm you down, straightening her back and trying to put on an expression of calm and serious “I understand. I understand, I was just-” she paused, eyes wide as she blinked several times “You caught me by surprise there. You- Are you certain?”

“I'd be certain if I had been able to visit a doctor or taken a test and so far I've backed down from both at least four times, each, so really? No, no I'm not.” you sighed, relaxing back in your chair “But I'm... late and honestly the only thing I can come up with at the moment is...”

“Pregnancy.” she said the word with less difficulty than you had been able to at first. And it seemed like although she was the one speaking the words, you still felt the lump form in your throat and the air get caught in your lungs. Was it in a good or bad kind of way? You didn't know yet. What you knew it was that it wasn't unpleasant. It was scary but not the bad kind of scary. And all that didn't seem to be able to describe it even in the least bit.

“Really (Y/n), not even a doctor? You know you can't keep... waiting for this to just magically explain itself. I mean, if you're waiting for it to show then I think you'll know along with the rest of the world but-” she paused, tilting her head as if studying you carefully “Something tells me that you want to be more than prepared to speak about it to Stefan, right? Maybe even, that's what scares you more than knowing about it yourself... Not that it means you can keep going like this, completely uncertain.”

“I just-” you paused, knowing how true her words were and just how easily your friend had been able to see right through you, maybe proving to you the reason why you had sought out her help to begin with, but at the same time not being ready to speak about it yet “I wasn't prepared for this and the possibility that it's real... scares me too much to see it being verified. Being uncertain is nerve-wracking but at least it gives me some sort of comfort that it may be true or it may not be. But knowing something for sure is- it's there. I won't be able to do something about it and-”

“You want to have this child, don't you?” she said with a slowly growing smile but you knew it was far from a question. She was well aware of the answer, it was only a matter of getting it out of you. “You're not scared that you might be pregnant, you're scared you might find out you're not. You hope you are.”

“I'm-” you paused, looking over at the kindergarten that was nearby and silently cursed at yourself for choosing the location because this wasn't helping at all “If you mean... Do I want to have Stefan's children? Goodness, yes. Yes, a thousand times yes. He's incredible with me, better than any man I've ever been with before, which is just why we've been together for so long. We've been through so much together too, all these years and now things are finally calm and we're so good and-” you breathed out a laugh “I watch him with Caroline's daughters sometimes and he'd so good, so so good Elena, it makes me dream about it all the more but what I want and what he may want at the moment could be two totally different things. He-”

“Ah, let me stop you right there!” she raised a finger “May want. You said it yourself. What he may want. You're not sure. You're not sure what he wants concerning the topic of kids, and you will not until you bring it up to him. I am sure you haven't brought up the topic to him, certainly not these days with how scared of the truth you seem to be. Am I in the wrong to believe so?”

“You're... not. You're not.” you pursed your lips, shaking your head “But how can I bring it up when I'm freaking out on the inside about the possibility of it being really happening right now!”

“Well, figure out if it is a possibility or not first. You know you can't keep going like this, you have to know the truth sooner rather than later. Besides-” she stopped once more, looking at something over your shoulder before her smile got even bigger “I think the universe might be giving you a little more than just a good few signs.”

No sooner had she nodded towards someone's direction than you hear his voice and felt someone sit next to you “Is it just me or was shopping always this hard?”

His voice despite everything managed to calm you down, even more when you felt the kiss on your temple and the arm around your shoulders “But I suppose I get a reward for all the hard work to be able to find you here. Hey.” he whispered this time your eyes locking with his and his lips only inches from your lips before he pecked them.

“Hello to you too Stefan, I'm great thanks for asking! Wow and here I wondered why Damon said that you were like the rest of the world stopped existing whenever you were with (Y/n). Totally uncalled for, I don't even know where it came from.” Elena said sarcastically, loving to tease you until Stefan was laughing and you had your face buried in the crook of his neck.

“Shut up.” you mumbled, giving her a look before turning to your boyfriend “What were you shopping for?”

“Well, it wasn't in the plans really. And the girls' birthday is really a couple days away but I came across these toys that, well, guess I couldn't resist. But then there were too many I couldn't chose between and-” he relaxed in his chair, smiling even more “Then I came across some baby's toys and did you really know there were so many to chose from? Well, not that we really need them but I got stuck looking at all kinds and then I realized I had been standing there for hours without realizing and I got tired so I had to leave. Naturally.” he sighed in exhaustion “But you should see what I got for the girls you'll love it too. We could always change it in case you want of course. Though not today, I can barely move a finger.”

“Being human isn't as easy as you remember huh Stefan?” Elena smiled because you couldn't get a single word out yourself “If I could say though, you didn't look that tired playing with those kids back there? I only now noticed. You know them?”

“What- Oh, no I don't. But, well, I was mostly helping them out. Not like if they'd asked me I wouldn't have stayed longer but then I saw you and realized how tired I really was.”

“I didn't know you were so good with kids. I thought it was only the twins.” you whispered, even if you'd have liked for your voice to come out a bit more confident, you couldn't fight off the tenderness that slipped into your voice.

Stefan watched you for a couple more seconds, with your head rested on his shoulder, before he kissed your forehead slowly with his lips lingering there “Just wait and see till I make you a mama. You'll love it. I'll definitely love it too”

It felt like the whole world had stopped spinning, your heart had leapt to your throat and you couldn't breathe properly but you didn't care in the least bit. You couldn't hold back the bright smile that spread on your face “Will you? Let's see if you'll be saying that when I'm cursing at you and making threats at you during labor. Or even not letting you touch me for the next couple months after that.”

“I guess we'll see. Should we have to wait for a sign from the universe or is it a good time to start trying as of tonight?”

#tvd #the vampite diaries #the vampire diaries imagine #the vampire diaries fanfiction #the vampire diaries one shot #the vampire diaries x reader #stefan #stefan salvatore #stefan imagine #stefan salvatore imagine #stefan x reader #stefan salvatore x reader #stefan fanfiction #stefan salvatore fanfiction #stefan one shot #stefan salvatore one shot

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 4 years

Text

HASO, “Dealing with Intruders.”

So sorry this came out so late today. I was at work and things got busy. I wanted it to be a bit longer, but decided this was a good enough stopping point. I hope you all enjoy

Yeb took a step back.

“I said run, and DIE!” The small, Fuzzy creature said, its ear twitching spastically over its brightly colored fur.

She froze in place, she didn’t know what this creature was, she had never seen it through all of her spying on the ship. It was small though, so there was more than a distinct possibility that she just hadn’t seen it. Either way that didn’t change the fact that she didn’t know anything about it. It could be poisonous, or venomous, or have some other strange ability that she didn’t know about.

“Who are you!” it demanded.

She held up her hands, “Yeb…. my name is Yeb, please don’t hurt me I’m sorry I snuck aboard your ship…. I… I panicked.”

“A stowaway then, from the ice planet.”

She nodded quickly, “Please, I mean you no harm, I just…. I just made a dumb mistake is all.”

“I feel that the Admiral will be very interested to learn about this.”

She felt her fur stand on end thinking of the genial alien captain and how he would react to the sudden appearance of her on his ship, a stowaway. What might he think about her betraying his trust like that, what would he seem like when driven to anger?

“Come with me.” The little fuzzball ordered, turned and began waddling away, “Try to escape and I break your kneecaps.”

Yeb followed behind silently. She didn’t see how the small creature would even reach her kneecaps, but she certainly didn’t want to challenge it. If it was THAT confident it could hurt her, then she had no desire to figure out why.

They stepped into the hallway, her following, keeping mostly to the maintenance tunnels, gone unused by most of the crew. At a certain point she started to hear low murmured voices rising up in some agitation over the thrumming sound of the ship’s distant engines. They came out of the maintenance corridor, and the sound around them rose higher.

It was still agitated, but hushed, and as she walked into the room she was greeted with a very odd…. And an almost disturbing scene.

There was a ring in the center of the floor, surrounded by seats. Inside the ring, little drops of red made a smattering over the floor. The humans sat around in agitated silence looking between each other and the occasional Drev.

Sitting just outside the circle was the human leader…. looking …. More the worse for wear.

He had a small crowd gathered around him,and that strange red liquid was leaking down the side of his face and onto his shirt. Just to the side, the small Blue Drev was standing looking concerned.

As Yeb got closer, she noticed to her horror that the human’s leg was missing! She froze in place and the entire group of whispering humans looked up as she stopped. Concern turned to confusion turned to shock.

The human leader lifted his head, which was discolored and leaking fluid but paused as well, “You!”

“She shrunk back.”

“I found this stowaway hiding in the maintenance tunnels.” The fluff ball announced to the whole room.

The human opened his mouth, closed it, tilted his head and then sighed.

“Will you give us just a moment.” His voice was calm and restrained, almost, tired.

He turned to look over at The blue Drev and a smaller group of humans clustered around just to the side.

“Any joy?”

“It doesn’t look too bad sir, most of the main components are intact as expected, it is just a faulty joining pin.”

“Can you fix it?”

“Unfortunately….not with what we have here. But it should be easy enough to order At Europa.”

He sighed, “Sit, well, it’ll have to do.” He turned to look at one of the other humans, she knew to be named Ramirez, “Head to my room, look in the closet, and in the back corner, you will find those crutches that go around your wrists.”

The man nodded, “Yeah, for sue.” He jogged off and the human leader, Adam, turned to face her.

Slow red was still oozing from the side of his face still as the little spidery alien creature attempted to stop it.

“Yeb, I can’t say I expected to see you here.”

“I...I am so sorry… I have no idea what I was thinking. I saw the box, and it was open, and i just sort of… jumped in, I have no idea why I did that, and then I was worried that you were going to be mad, so I…. So I hid and…. and .”

It was getting very hot all of a sudden, and she was beginning to pant.

“Wow, slow your roll there for a moment.” He held up his hands.

She stared at him, teetering on the edge of concern and fear.

“That….. Sounds like exactly something I would have done.” He smiled at her with his pearly white teeth, “Welcome aboard the Omen. I wish you would have told me sooner as this is hardly a hospitable environment for you. Where have you been hiding.”

She looked down at her shuffling feet, “The…. walk-in freezer?”

He barked a laugh, “Ingenious.”

He held a pad of white to the side of his head and went to stand but stopped suddenly apparently seeming surprised that he was missing a leg. He huffed, “Will someone help me up.” He turned to look at the small doctor frowning and arms crossed over its bug-like chest, “Yes, we will discuss my idiocy later, but right now, we need to figure out how to keep our friend comfortable.”

The little doctor gave her a good once-over, “Does your fur grow back?”

She paused, frowned and then nodded slowly, “Yes it does.”

“Even the under layer?”

“yes , it would.”

The humans glanced between each other, and Adam held up a hand, “Now, this is not out of offence to you, so Don’t take it that way, but….. It might be cooler and more bearable if…. Perhaps you had less fur…. As in shaving it.”

She paused in thought, “I….I have never thought about it….I suppose…. It can’t hurt, if it would make the heat more bearable.”

“Alright, than that is something we can do. Your other options to wear a cooling vest,but those are heavy and would require battery changes and charging. Granted the other way would not be permanent either, but it might last longer.”

She paused to think about it, then, “Will you let me stay here.”

“I was going to let you stay here no matter what you chose to do, so it's your call.”

Just then Ramirez came jogging into the room holding a pair of metal sticks with strange loops at the end, which he handed over to Adam.

The human threaded his wrists through the loops, and levered himself up onto his one remaining leg with his weight supported on the metal sticks. Yeb tried to keep from staring, but fascination outweighed her propriety.

“Krill, take Yeb to the infirmary, and see if you can’t figure out how to safely remove some of her fur. I mean sheep shears would probably be best, but it's not like I have any of those lying around the ship.”

“And you?”

“I will be right along.”

The little spidery alien moved to the side of her and guided her away from the room. She glanced back over her shoulder just in time to see the Blue Drev and the human duck their heads in fervent conversation, her keen hearing managed to pick up some of what was being said, “Adam, I am so sorry I…”

“I asked r it, its ok.”

“No its-”

“Yes it is, now please don’t worry about it, and if you really are, just fix my leg when we get back to Europa.”

She saw the human touch the Drev’s Arm for just a moment before he limped away on his crutches, following after them up the hall.

Again she tried not to stare.

He was fast on those things, and surprisingly mobile, but her eyes kept being drawn to his missing leg, amputated at center thigh. She had seen wounds like that before, mostly after someone got to close to an ice beast or a crevice lurker. They had never lasted long dying from cold and shock a few hours after the incident.

What kind of…. Ungodly power would keep someone alive after trauma like that….

Her thoughts were cut off as she was pulled into the bright hite room next to the freezer. She was sat down and examined by the small studious doctor, who still seemed too grouchy to be particularly talkative. After a while two of the marines came trotting into the room each holding a box.

“This is all we could find, a couple of razors from the crew quarters.”

The one named Maverick eyed her, “I doubt they will be very usable after this.”

Ramirez nodded, “I’d tend to agree.”

Adam limped up behind them, “Might as well try.” he looked down at Yeb with a smile, “Want to do it yourself, or have some help.”

“Er…. help?”

Ramirez clicked on the Razor, “Hey, do you want a mohawk?”

She blinked, “A what.”

“We could do it all the way down your back, have the hair longer there, it would look badass.”

Yeb thought he was joking for a moment but seeing the look on Adam’s face she had a feeling he wasn’t. She wondered, they seemed excited and almost hopeful she’d say yes…. She didn’t see the harm in it,and she didn’t know what badass meant but it sounded fun. So she hesitantly nodded.

“Fuck yeah.”

She wasn’t entirely sure she trusted “These two humans, but what else was she to do?

The going was very, very slow, and the strange machines were very, very loud, she watched as her hair fell to the floor in great chunks, and was surprised when a cool breeze rushed over her neck.

It took them over an hour, and by the time they were done the floor was covered in hair, and she was marginally more comfortable. It felt so weird, and when they turned a mirror towards her she was shocked.

She was so…

Small.

She turned her head looking down at the scruff of hair left on her back which she was delighted to find made her look more vicious, the effect would be even more prominent when her fur stood up on end.

“See, badass.”

The little doctor crossed his arms again, “Don’t you think, Admiral that this might cause some diplomatic issues with the Tricar if they were to know she is here?”

“Than I guess we better not let anyone know she is here, and look at her, a horrible accident caused her to lose her fur and now she wouldn’t last a day back home, we are simply being generous hosts.” he patted her back then paused, “I have another potentially inappropriate question, so please don’t be offended.”

She looked up at him her head tilted and her ears pulled back.

“What?”

“Can I please…. Touch your fur, you look very fluffy, and humans love to pet things. Its sort of a thing about us?”

She shrugged and didn’t see the harm in it.

He grinned at her rather happy and adjusted himself to balance on one crutch, hooking his hand out of the other as he reached over and ran a hand from the top of her head and w nto her shoulders.

“So fluffy!”

She laid her ears back, That was actually kind of nice, and when he stopped she was only mildly disappointed. She’d have to convince someone else to touch her fur, which she doubted would be hard.

“Anyway, I have to take care of a head wound, but Ramirez and Maverick, why don’t you take Yeb around the ship, and give her the full tour, you know without the sneaking around and being forced to hide in the walk in freezer.”

They nodded and laughed somewhat.

“Try to keep her out of trouble will you. Oh…. and if you see Sunny…. Can you send her up here?”

His voice had grown somewhat hesitant, a minute change in pitch which she detected with her large ears.

She wondered what was going on, but let it go as the humans took her by the shoulder and led her away.

They seemed excited to have heron the ship, and their excitement made her excited. She was more than ready to learn and spend time with this strange alien species. And to try more of their food, which was about ten times better than the bland over-salted fish on her planet.

Hopefully she would be able to repay them somehow.

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sweetyyhippyy · 3 years

Text

Part of You. Spencer Reid x OC! Character. Chapter 6.

Chapter 6: Birthday

(not my gif)

Summary: The morning after last chapter. Spencer and Bridgett spend the day together, being cute, having breakfast, and talking about the future.

Pairing: Season 6 Spencer Reid x OC! Plus size character, Bridgett Mendez.

TW: Small talk about the night before, start of sexy time, a cuss word I think?

Word count: 2.4k

A.N.: I’m really sorry, this chapter is filler so it’s not the best. There is some fluff sprinkled throughout the chapter so hopefully you’ll like it! This is still season 6 Spencer! Also, if you reblog this chapter I will follow you!!

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Spencer turns over, stretching his body and opening his eyes to see the back of Bridgett’s head next to him, her hair tied up on her head. She managed to push the covers down from around her body to her hip, her entire back exposed to him while she was sleeping away. She ran hot most nights, especially when Spencer was cuddled up behind her.

Spencer wraps his arms around her, moving closer to her naked body. Bridgett was cold to the touch as he hugged her close. His fingers trace from her hip bone, up her curves and across her back over a red bite mark on her right shoulder from last night, then around to the side of her neck to the hickies he had left on his girlfriend, kind of concerned he had hurt her. Bridgett’s body shutters next to him, a low moan coming from her as she stirs next to him.

“Shhh, go back to bed.” He whispers in her ear, rubbing her shoulder lightly.

“That tickles, I can’t go back to bed.” Bridgett mutters despite her eyes still being closed. She lets out a laugh feeling how softly his fingers were touching her bruised skin, feeling the dull soreness on the side of her neck.

Spencer leans on his arm and drops down to kiss her cheek multiple times. She hums in happiness finally opening her eyes and laying on her back to face Spencer. Bridgett lightly touches Spencer’s exposed collarbone with her fingers, making him shiver in return. Spencer moves to lay his body on top of Bridgett, resting his head in between her shoulder and neck, leaving little kisses on her skin.

“Good morning.” She smiles, grabbing the sheets and pulling them up over both of them. “I’m cold.” Bridgett says, playing with his hair.

Spencer wraps his arms around her and holds her tight, giving her a squeeze. “Probably since you slept naked.” He teases.

“Or because you weren’t cuddling with me.” She pokes back. Spencer laughs, kissing the top of her head twice.

“You’re right, you’re cold because I wasn’t touching you.”

“I’m glad you agree.”

Brat.

“Hey,” He starts, picking his head up to look at Bridgett’s face. “Did I hurt you last night?”

Bridgett cocks her head to the side, giving him a questioning look. “No? Why?”

Spencer moves the necklace over carefully and lightly runs his hands over the two bruises on her neck, his eyes not leaving hers.

“Oh, Spence, baby no.” Bridgett coos, touching his cheek lightly. “No you didn’t hurt me. I like when you leave marks on me. It’s a pain to cover them up, but I do like them.” Bridgett can tell Spencer isn’t 100% content with her answer, he still felt a little guilty leaving such ugly purple-black bruises on her. She grabs his face, making him look at her. “Hey, don’t make that face at me. I’m telling you I’m okay. Plus, I would have used the safeword if I wanted you to stop.”

“You hate using the safeword.” He says, furrowing his brows.

“Because I can handle a lot more than you think I can, doctor. You think I’m a fragile little flower who can’t handle you being rough and nasty to me.” She smiles devilishly.

He bites onto his bottom lip to hide his smile, rolling his eyes playfully at her. “So do you want to go into town and get some stuff to make breakfast and some dinner? I’ll make waffles, eggs, and bacon. And you could make that fajita pasta tonight?”

It was Spencer’s favorite thing to eat that she cooked.

“Only if you give me a kiss.” Bridgett says, puckering her lips. Spencer kisses her back with a smile, lingering a little longer than he should have.

“Okay, let’s get showered and let’s go.” Spencer throws the covers off his body and rolls out of bed.

“Shared shower?” Bridgett questions, smiling at her boyfriend, making grabby hands up at him.

Spencer cocks his eyebrow at her, not being able to keep his smile in. He holds his hand out while she gets out of bed, grabbing his hand and heading off for their shower.

***

A few hours had passed, they got enough food for the rest of the night and some snacks for the next day.

They ate brunch in bed, Spencer trying to steal strawberries off Bridgett’s plate because he ate all of his. Bridgett yells jokingly as Spencer weasels his fork across her plate, impaling 2 of her strawberries.

“Excuse me!” Bridgett complains. “You should have cut yourself more strawberries if you wanted them, these are mine.” She taunts him, moving her strawberries away from close to him.

“Couples share!” Spencer says, shoving the whole berry in his mouth.

“They do but I don’t share strawberries. Just like you don’t share your jello. I learned that lesson the hard way.”

Spencer laughs, remembering when he basically interrogated Bridgett when he saw a jello cup missing from the fridge. The one freaking time she craves jello and Spencer turns bad cop on her.

“I have a question.” Spencer says, stuffing his face with a piece of waffle.

“Okay.”

“Is there any fixing the relationship you and your parents have? Or is that broken beyond repair?”

Bridgett stops chewing, looking over at Spencer, completely taken back by his question.

“Where is this coming from? Before I answer.”

He shrugs his shoulders, “I dunno, I was curious about if you would ever take me home to meet your parents.”

Bridgett sighs, thinking about the answer to her question. To be honest, she hadn't even thought about Spencer meeting her parents. Mostly because she didn’t want them to scare Spencer away.

“Well, I don’t know. I haven’t given it thought until 5 seconds ago if I’m being honest. If my parents weren’t… how my parents are, and we had a good relationship, I would have taken you to meet them a long time ago. I know how they are and I don’t want them to do or say anything that’ll make you uncomfortable or upset you.The only person I can see you meeting is my sister, Celeste.”

“Upset me how?”

“I never told you, but there was a boy back when I was a junior, I had a huge crush on him, his name was Cruz, and we weren’t ever boyfriend and girlfriend or anything, but he took me out on a few dates. Anyway, my mom saw us out one night at a mall, and she started tearing him to shreds. Calling him a ‘hoodlum’, ‘gang banger’, any other insensitive name she could call him because he had a tattoo and his ears were pierced. And she said all of that to his face. I was mortified, he was pissed, and we never went out after that. I just don’t want them to treat you horribly. You don’t deserve that.”

“I get it, it’s okay if it doesn’t happen, but you know I can handle it, right?”

“I know, babe, but then I’m going to get mad and it’s just going to end in the three of us yelling and I don’t want that. I’m not counting it out completely just… not yet. And since you brought it up, have you ever thought about me meeting your mom?”

“Yeah of course. It might be further down the road, but yes I do want you two to meet. You two are both very important to me.”

“Unfortunately neither of us have a normal family.” Bridgett jokes.

“We can make our own normal family.” Spencer says nonchalantly, making Bridgett turn her head quickly toward him. Spencer feels her eyes on him, making him look back at her. “What?”

“You know what you just said right? You’ve thought about us having our own family?”

Spencer breaks eye contact, his cheeks getting a little red. “Well yeah. I’ve thought a lot about marrying you, us having kids. We’ve both talked about wanting families one day, and it was before we got together that we had that conversation, but it still stands at least for me.”

Bridgett smiles at him, kissing his lips, a hint of strawberry on them. “What’s stopping you from marrying me right now?”

“Not much, honestly. But we’re only in our 20s. I think we should wait a little while longer before we get married.”

“I’m imagining you in a nice tuxedo,” Bridgett grabs both of their plates of food, placing them on the nightstand, and climbs onto Spencer’s lap, straddling him.

Spencer raises his eyebrows, resting both of his hands on her hips, and a peaceful smile on his face.

“Your hair combed back, looking like SuperMan in your glasses, because you know what your glasses do to me.” She whispers, kissing him again.

Spencer pulls back from the kiss first, a smile on his face. “Actually, Clark Kent wore glasses to cover up the fact he was SuperMan. But glasses aren’t much of a disguise, if I put glasses on you I would still be able to tell that it was you. Even if he was a strang-“

Bridgett kisses him again, lingering for a few extra seconds before pulling back. “I love when you info drop, I think it’s very cute and I love hearing you go on about stuff you know a lot about, but I was trying to be sexy.”

Spencer laughs, cupping Bridgett’s face in his hands. “You don’t have to try hard, my love.”

***

Bridgett’s body shutters, making her wake up. She grabs for the blanket that she pushed off her body during the night. As she pulled the blanket it wouldn’t come up further than her stomach, making her whine.

“Spencer you’re on the blanket. You’re being a blanket hog.” She mumbles, turning around to lay on his chest to wake him up but the spot next to her was empty. Bridgett opens her eyes, lifting her head up off the pillow and looking at the empty bed.

“Spence?” Bridgett calls out, sitting up on the bed to find her discarded clothes on the floor. She slips her underwear on, putting her long sleeve sweatshirt over her bare torso to go find Spencer.

She walks around the cabin, finding a yellow heart shaped balloon and a birthday cake balloon swaying back and forth on the counter in the kitchen, the ribbon tied to the handle of the overhead cabinet. Bridgett smiles as she sees Spencer sitting on the couch, bringing his coffee mug to his lips. She walks up behind him, leaning down and runs her hands down both sides of his chest and enveloping him in a hug.

“Good morning, hermoso.” Bridgett whispers in his ear, kissing the spot below his ear.

“Good morning.” Spencer smiles, putting his coffee down on the table next to him. He motions for her to come over to him, holding his arms out.

Bridgett rounds the couch, sitting next to him, and placing her legs in his lap, kissing his cheek.

“Happy birthday, babe.” He says, giving her a peck on the lips.

Bridgett gives him a kiss back, smiling into his lips as they pull back. “Thank you. I love my balloons.” Kissing him again. “And you.”

“I love you too. I have another present I want to give you. Well technically it’s two, but one is more symbolic. Well, symbolic is the wrong word, one is romantic, and the other is a gesture. I don’t know if that’s the right wo-.”

Bridgett laughs, grabbing his face and making him look at her. “Your brain is working faster than your mouth baby. Relax.”

He presses his nose against hers and reaches behind the pillow next to him. “The romantic gift first.” He says, handing her a CD case with a yellow piece of construction paper taped on the inside with the words written in his chicken scratch, “Songs That Remind me of You” with a heart on it.

Bridgett pouts her lip out and makes soft eyes at him. “Babe!” She says in a whiny voice, hugging his waist.

“This can be our playlist for tonight. And I have something else for you.” He says, handing her a key.

Bridgett smiles at him, raising an eyebrow to him. “What’s this for?”

“I could say something cheesy that I had seen on the internet when I was looking up cute ideas for gifts for you, but it’s a key to my apartment. I figured you’re already at my place more often than not so, yeah.” He smiles.

Bridgett takes his face in between her hands again, bringing his face close to hers and kisses him passionately. “I love you so much, Spencer. I’m so lucky.”

“I was nervous that giving you the key was going to freak you out.”

“Why would it freak me out?”

Spencer shrugs his shoulders, looking down at the coffee table trying to sort through the thoughts in his head. “I’ve never done the relationship thing before. I don’t know how soon is too soon to do things, and I don’t want to hold off on doing things because I get in my head about rushing into things… but I don’t want to freak you out and make you feel pressured into something you don’t want to do just to make me happy.” Spencer clears his throat, narrowing his eyes. “You can tell me to stop talking.”

Bridgett giggles, bringing his face closer to hers, her thumb rubs his cheek lovingly. “You know that I would tell you if things were moving too fast, right? Plus, we’ve never had a normal moving relationship in case you haven’t noticed. And I kinda like it… just like I kinda like you.”

Spencer lets out a deep laugh, his eyes scrunching up as she smiles. “You just like me? That’s it?”

“Yup. A strong admiration.” She giggles, bopping her nose against his. “I’m fond of you.”

“Alright, let’s see how fond you are.” He says, shifting his body against the couch and making her lay down on her back against the cushions.

Bridgett wraps her legs around his waist, putting her hands on both sides of his face. “First one to say I love you loses.” She says.

“What's the punishment for losing?”

“The loser has to give the other head… twice.”

“I love you. I love you so much. The love of my life. I love you.” Spencer says, kissing all over her face.

#Spencer Reid #Spencer Reid smut #Spencer Reid imagine #Spencer Reid fic #spencer reid fan fiction #Spencer Reid OC fic #Matthew Gray Gubler #Matthew gray Gubler smut #Matthew gray Gubler fic #Matthew gray Gubler fan fiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fan fiction #spencer reid x oc character #part of you can fic

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