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queen-of-deans-booty · 8 months

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Across Every Universe

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.1k

Warnings: fluff

Request by anon: Hey Jordan, can i request something where Dean Winchester always have a crush on the reader but never said something to her until one day Sam and Dean are transported (based on the episode French Mistake) and Dean actor Jensen and is married to the reader of the universe and she pass the whole day giving Dean hug and kisses because for everyone is Jensen. When Dean and Sam came back to their universe him and the reader start dating? Fluff

Summary: Sam and Dean are taken back to the same place where Dean is known as Jensen Ackles and Sam as Jared Padalecki. This little trip makes Dean realize his feelings for you.

Square Filled: "god, if only you knew what you did to me" (2023) for @spnaubingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

No matter the position you’re in, you’re not comfortable. It doesn’t matter if you lie down on your side, your back, or your stomach. Not to mention the heater isn’t working in the Bunker so it’s very cold. You have three blankets over you while wearing long sleeves and pajama pants. The broken heater doesn’t help your running cold either. You’re not sure where you caught it from but you’ve been trying to stay away from the brothers to not get them sick.

That doesn’t keep Dean away, though.

He’s a complete sweetheart to you since he always brings you soup, makes sure you’re comfortable, and spends time with you even if you tell him not to go near you. You don’t know what you’d do without Dean in your life.

Speaking of, he knocks on your door and enters wearing his usual hunting attire.

“Going on a hunt?” you ask and sit up slightly.

“Yeah. I wish I could stay here and take care of you.”

“Other people need you,” you smile. “I’ll be fine. I’m going to stay in bed, watch movies, and make some soup later. Did you fix the heater, yet?”

“I have someone coming in a few days. He’s also on a hunt.”

“Right, no non-hunters here,” you chuckle.

“I’ll call you later and check up on you, okay?”

“My hero.”

You cuddle with your blankets more and Dean leaves your room with a slight blush on his cheeks. Before he closes the door, he looks back at you in thought. God, if only you knew what you did to me.

He closes your door and meets his brother in the library. As soon as they are packed and ready to go, they start the long drive to the next state over. When Dean gets onto the highway, Sam turns to Dean with a knowing smile.

“So, did you tell her how you feel?”

“Stay out of it, Sammy,” Dean rolls his eyes.

“How long have you had a thing for her? Years? When are you going to tell her how you feel?”

“I mean it, Sam. Stay out of it. I can handle it on my own.”

“Apparently not, or else she’d be yours.”

Dean punches his brother not gently in the arm and Sam laughs. Dean kept the music high so he could avoid talking about his feelings for you. They get to the town that has its residents sacrificing themselves in the name of God. If anything, it warrants some kind of visit from the Winchesters.

The town looks like a normal town with normal people just trying to live their normal lives. They have no suspicions that something is happening but they only just arrived. They get there late at night so they will have to do their work tomorrow morning. Dean takes out his phone when his brother goes into the bathroom to shower and calls you.

“Hey, how are you feeling?”

“I’m doing alright but not any better.”

“Did you take your medicine?”

“Yes, I did.” He can hear the smile in your voice and that makes him smile. “And I ate my soup and drank water.”

“Don’t forget to tell her goodnight,” Sam says loudly from the bathroom.

Dean grabs a pillow and chucks it at his brother. “Go take a shower. You stink.”

“Goodnight, Dean,” you chuckle, having heard Sam.

“Night sweetheart.” He hangs up and turns to his brother with a scowl. “I hate you.”

Sam and Dean actually get more than four hours of sleep that night but when Dean wakes up, he doesn’t recognize his surroundings. The motel is gone, the shutty beds and blankets are gone, and the peeling wallpaper is gone. What replaces it is a nice trailer, a comfortable bed, a big aquarium, and other nice shit that Dean has never had.

“Sammy?” he calls out. He gets up and leaves the small trailer only to run into Sam. “What the hell is going on? Where are we?”

“I don’t know.” Sam looks around and spots a name on the side of the trailer that’s behind Dean. “Oh, no. Look.”

Dean turns and sees the name ‘Jensen Ackles’ on the side. He turns back around and sees ‘Jared Padalecki’ on the trailer opposite his.

“You’ve got to be kidding me? We’re back in actor land? What happened last time?”

“Gabriel sent us here to avoid Raphael and his minions. I have no idea how we ended up here.”

“I bet it has something to do with the fact that people were sacrificing themselves in the name of God. My guess is that angels are involved.”

“There you two are.” Sam and Dean turn to see Castiel--Misha--walking toward them. “They’re looking for you two.”

“Yeah, we’re coming.”

If Sam and Dean didn’t do a good job trying to act last time, then they certainly aren’t going to do a good job now. It’s funny in hindsight but it makes for a very long day of filming. After the twentieth time messing up, Dean is ready to get the hell out of there to figure out how to get back to his world.

He looks to the right and sees you at the snack bar. He immediately calls for a time-out and leaves the set.

“Time out?” the director frowns and looks at him. “Everyone, take ten!”

“Y/N?”

“Come here, you have to try this. Gen made it,” you grin at Dean. You take a scoopful of food and present it to him. He opens his mouth and accepts the food, pleasantly surprised by the taste. “Oh, you have something on your mouth.” You wipe his bottom lip with your thumb and lick the food off. Dean is so confused about your behavior but doesn’t have time to figure it out. Your phone rings and you check who is messaging you. “I gotta go. Gen is here.”

You lean up and kiss him quickly before walking off. Dean can’t move after that quick kiss. You did it so casually like you’ve done it a thousand times. He is forced to go back to acting but he can’t do a good job because all he’s thinking about is your lips on his.

They aren’t getting enough filming done so the director calls it for the rest of the day. Sam and Dean convene outside to make it look like they’re busy so no one else talks to them.

“She kissed me, dude.”

“What?”

“Y/N or the woman who she’s supposed to be. She kissed me like we’re together or something.”

“Look, I’m glad you’re going through the five stages of teenage excitement but can we focus here? How are we going to get out of here?”

Dean looks around and spots you entering his trailer.

“Eh, you’ll figure it out. I’ll be back.”

Dean leaves to his trailer and Sam rolls his eyes in annoyance.

“Dean!” he hisses but receives no answer.

Dean enters his counterpart’s trailer and sees you where the bed is. You’re grabbing some night clothes out of the drawers since you’re not going to be leaving the trailer for the rest of the night.

“Hey, I talked to Gen about the cabin and she got it all set up for us this weekend. I’m so excited to spend some time away from all this for two days.”

“Are we dating?” The comment makes you laugh. “What?”

“Are you okay?” He looks kind of nervous so you walk over to him and wrap your arms around his neck. “I don’t know what’s going on with you but I do know how to make you feel better.”

“How?” he whispers.

You run your hands down his chest and take his hands. You take him to the bed and toss your night clothes onto a nearby chair. You fall onto the bed while pulling him so he lands on top of you but he stops himself with his hands so he doesn’t completely crush you.

You pull him down to kiss you and that’s enough to bring Dean into the delusion that you’re Y/N and you’re his. Your lips are softer than what he thought and your body fits so perfectly against his. He slips his tongue into your mouth to get familiar with you. You tug on his hair to get some traction so he pulls away from your mouth and kisses down your neck.

Your neck has always been a sensitive spot for you and he really knows how to work you up. He licks up and down your neck before latching onto the side of it. You gasp, tilt your head back, and moan something that brings Dean back down to reality.

“Jensen.” You’re not his. You’re not you. You’re Jensen’s. You’re not supposed to be with him. He pulls away and pants above you. “What’s wrong?”

“Can we just lay here instead?”

“Yeah, of course. Let me get changed.”

You slip out from underneath him and grab the pajamas you set aside earlier. You strip down naked and Dean has a hard time not looking at you. He can’t help but think you’re a complete stranger. The pajamas you’re wearing are revealing but he feels better at looking at you with clothes on. You climb into bed with him and cuddle into his side, and he tucks a strand of your hair behind your head.

“How did I get so lucky?”

“I’m the lucky one.”

“Tell me the story of how we met.” You look at him in confusion. “I want to hear it from you.”

“Okay, I got tickets to a red carpet event that my ex-friend invited me to. We were going to see the movie My Bloody Valentine because we thought it was going to be the next big movie. The entire cast was there, including you, meeting fans and taking pictures with them. When we locked eyes, it was like something was pulling you to me.

“You came over to me, complimented me on my dress, signed my poster with your number on it which I still have, and the rest is history. I never got together with you because you were a big celebrity. You were genuine, kind, funny, charming, and very sexy. It was hard not to fall in love with you.”

Dean notices the big ring on your finger and puts the pieces together.

“We’re married?”

“Yes, we are,” you laugh. “Are you okay?”

“I’m just… really happy.”

You lean over and kiss him. The next morning, Dean leaves his trailer before you get up. He doesn’t want to wake you even though he wants to. He finds Sam outside his own trailer with a book in his hands.

“Hey,” Dean sighs.

“I might have found a way out of here, no thanks to you.”

“What if we didn’t leave?”

“Are you kidding me?”

“The love of my life is my wife here.”

“That’s not your wife, Dean. She’s Jensen’s wife. She thinks you’re him. Why would you take that away from him? You have a girl waiting for you at home, a girl with whom you’re too scared to do anything about. Don’t take her away from him because you want what they have.”

Dean knows he’s right. He can’t stay here. He’s using this world as an escape from his own.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Dean sighs. “What do you have?”

“I found this book in the prop section. This might be a TV show but it does have some useful books to make it look real. There’s a ritual we can do.”

And a ritual it is. Once they get the stuff needed and perform it, they are brought back to the town they arrived in a couple of days ago. In order to properly tackle this town, they’re going to need some angelic help. Maybe Castiel can meet them back at the Bunker and figure something out then.

The first thing Dean does when he gets home is go looking for you. You’re still stuck in bed watching your favorite movies on Disney+. You pause your movie when your bedroom door opens.

“Hey, how was the hunt?” Dean doesn’t say anything as he kicks off his shoes. He climbs into bed with you and pulls you close to him. “Dean?”

“I love you,” he blurts. “I should have told you this years ago but I can’t seem to think straight when I’m with you. You make everything better for me, and you’re a better hunter than I ever was. God, I love you so much.”

“I’d kiss you but I don’t want to get you sick,” you smile.

“I don’t care,” he whispers and kisses you.

This is where he belongs. Right next to you.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

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ppeonppeonhan · 9 months

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The Sexiest 2023 BL Scenes

I think we can all agree that there is an art to executing a sex scene -- and not everybody's an artist. This year, we (and, by that, I mean you) gif'd a couple of masterpieces that range from romantic to...educational. Here are the ones that live in my head rent free, in order of PG-13 to NC-17:

BEST ROLE-PLAY SEX: Bed Friend

If you had told me last year that incorporating cat ears into foreplay would result in one of the hottest scenes in BL, I would've given you bombastic side-eye. But James, the actor who plays Uea, pulled it off, and is probably responsible for a lot of Amazon orders till this day. (Episode 6)

BEST BEACH-SIDE SEX: The Eighth Sense

This entire sequence was so beautifully lit in golden tones, with soft touches, and romantic moments. It almost made you forget about the depression plot. Almost. (Episode 6)

LONG-AWAITED SEX: Hidden Agenda

Joke yearned for Zo in a way that was borderline comical. From the moment Zo kissed Joke like he was trying to give him CPR and then promptly shoved him out of his apartment, I knew every kiss after that would have to come with a parental warning. I'm surprised Joke didn't move in. (Episode 8)

DO-OVER SEX: Love Class 2

The music for this sex scene was so perfectly matched with the caressing and hand closeups. And the fact that it happened after the initially-ghosted Joo Hyuk got Sung Min to reconsider made it even sweeter. (Episode 9)

BEST WET SEX SCENE: Kiseki: Dear to Me

I may have enjoyed Ai Di and Chen Yi's love story more, but Fan Ze Rui and Bai Zong Yi were helping us all live out our tall boy fantasies. When he mounted him with a soft bounce, I knew the gif Gods would giveth. (Episode 7)

BEST EUPHORIC SEX: Only Friends

Ray looked like he reached nirvana when he made love to Sand in that sardine can of trailer, so of all their sex scenes, this was my fave. (Episode 9)

BEST INSECURITY-INDUCED SEX: Only Friends

Say what you will about Boston -- and the fandom has said a lot lol -- but if you had to choose a cast member to get you off, you'd choose him in a heartbeat. And yes, this scene was grimey. He f*cked his friend's potential boyfriend in the backseat of his car after manipulating him into believing he was cheated on, but can you blame him? He was probably tired of always having to give and never receive. Plus, Top did this vibrating move that made me wonder who told Force to do that... (Episode 3)

GIF by wanderlust-in-my-soul

BEST CENSORED SEX: Wedding Plan

I'm still mad that this scene wasn't in the Youtube cut. It paints an entirely different picture of their dynamic and their personalities. But thank God for the gif'ers, otherwise I would've missed how ravenous they were when they weren't...wedding planning. 😳 (Episode 6)

BEST WHIPLASH SEX: Be Mine Superstar

To be clear, WE were the ones getting whiplash. One minute, we were watching a sweet love story between an innocent college kid and his idol crush, and the next minute we were watching a masterclass on how to bang your one-night stand (consensually) until he agrees to date you. It's like...Sir, I'm on the train. Could you give a bitch a heads up? (Episode 8)

***

While I am generally envious of every single one of these experiences, I'm even more envious of everyone's knee strength and flexibility. I could never. Rollerblading has ruined me. If I tried half of these positions, I'd have to get physical therapy. 🙃

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lady-ashfade · 8 months

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Yeah, she’s my mom.

Sally Jackson x wife reader x son!percy.

-£ Is this apart of the lore? No. Do I care? Not at all. So forget Gade and have Sally have a good partner. Let Percy have a good step parent. And, because I want her to be my wife.

-£ Warnings: Show and book spoilers, short, “Death”, Demigod luck, everything that happens in the show and the first book but with the reader, my idea of comfort, kinda angst but I’m trying to make this fluffy. Saying this again. Spoilers for the events that will hopefully be in the next two episodes

there was no doubt in his mind that you were meant to be his mom.

when his mother found you he remembered the glow she started to had. you made her so happy and even he could see that at a young age. but the way you cared for him to without a question, letting him cook with you at times and always poke his face with flour. or the time you sat with him when his mom was sick and played with him for hours and you didn’t even bat a eye.

there was always a lovely smell in the air that even he could smell sometimes when he was at school. it was sweet and smelled like every baked good in the world in one place. it brought him comfort. your scent was strong enough to lead monsters away, he didn’t smell like a demigod. the way his mother looked at you, the way you held her and helped out, made him realize that true love existed. and you were meant to be in their lives. to be his mother.

he could remember the first time he actually met you.

“hello there,” you bend down so low to his height, or close to it. the warm smile made him feel welcome, “your mommy says you are special? That’s great, I seem to need a helper in the back. you think you can help?”

he looked up at his mom as he clings to her hand, asking for permission. she gave him a slight nod. he let go and gave you the same look and took your hand. “thanks for letting me borrow your little hero.”

that was the first time and for the rest of the day he didn’t realize his mom was away. the time with you was so special but he quickly needed a nap and he fell asleep on your lap while watching a movie. you were the best babysitter. so every time his mother had somewhere to go he would find himself at your house.

soon after, you moved in with them! It was great since he got to see you all the time now. Then he got enrolled into school and he saw less of you but couldn’t help but count down the second he could see his mom and you.

sally, she was the best lover in the whole world. she was so loving to you. making your heart swell with warmth when you were near her. she had some fire in her and you loved that about her, unless you were on the end of that. there was no life without her.

so you two got married.

years after being sent to school after school, Sally could see how worried you became. and it pained her to never tell you the truth of who Percy was, who his father was, and much more. you constantly looked for schools to fit him and offered to get a extra job just to send him there. but each time she refused because they would be to far away.

but when percy came home. after she got a call from grover. “Dear, I think me and percy need some time to..” she glanced at him as he looked at her confused, “have some time alone.” That’s not how it ever went done. you all did things together.

“Of course.” you just smiled as you always did. understanding. you reached for him and ruffled his hair. “Be good for your mother, got it?” He huffed to fake being annoyed and agreed. he was sad you couldn’t come

if only he knew that would be the last time he saw you for a long time.

the trip to the beach cabin was smooth. him and his mom being normal as always and reconnecting their memories. until the night went south when he started to share his doubts with his mom. that he was broken. he was convinced that everything about him wasn’t normal. it didn’t help when his mom told him the truth of who his father was, and what that made him.

everything was so confusing, Grover turning out to be a goat. Them being chased by a minotaur with underpants, going to a “camp” for half-bloods like him? Yeah, he was probably going crazy.

“Mom!” Percy yelled as he watched his mom reach out to him one last time until she turned to dust in the monster hands. every part of his body boiling with anger that she was taken away. he saw you. how you had just lost your wife too but you had no clue, sitting at home all alone while everything went down.

you didn’t know. that sally was dead, that percy was safe, where he was or his mom. how scared you must be feeling right now. and it took all his willpower to stop himself from buying tickets back home and see you while he was supposed to be looking for the lighting bolt.

when he saw the video of you crying on tv he started to tear up. you defended him from all the accusations that he was involved. saying there was no way your sweet boy would ever hurt his mother.

“If you’re seeing this, come home.”

he almost died so many times. but he had to save his mom, he had to get himself and her back to you.

hades was touched by percy’s actions and released his mother after everything went down. his mom returned. The manhunt for him resolved. But there was a new war coming, and he was betrayed. And even if he needed to stay at camp for the whole year and train. There was only option he could take.

To go back home.

#percy jackson imagine #Sally Jackson x reader #platonic percy jackson #Percy Jackson x reader #fluff #percy jackson and the olympians x reader

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zombie-bait · 4 months

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Full Moon

Ok so I don’t normally post about Helluva Boss but the newest episode touched on an interesting concept I haven’t necessarily seen represented in media. Back when I was on Twitter (derogatory) a few years ago there was this now deleted viral thread where someone discussed how their struggles with mental health affected their relationship with their partner and I haven’t stopped thinking about it since.

This is such a good, short example of how anxiety and depression can play tricks on you. It becomes so easy to envision yourself as a nuisance, a constant burden to those closest to you because they cannot possibly genuinely enjoy your company, right? But in doing so you create this arbitrarily cruel version of the people you love, people who would otherwise never behave like this outside of your own mind.

It's mean. Because your mind wants to be mean to you under these circumstances. It wants to put everyone else's emotions and desires above yours, both in worthiness and validity. And that starts bleeding into your understanding of other people, especially those you care about.

Now. Helluva Boss.

"Can I get a fucking MINUTE to think after everything you put me through you pompous rich ASSHOLE? Treat me like one of your little butler imps, you can’t just dismiss me like that! I mean, you royal fucks think you can do this every time, like you can just play with our feelings because we’re smaller and not as important. Well I’m not letting you, BITCH! Let’s go!" - Blitz

I find it really interesting how Helluva Boss decided to approach this conflict between Stolas and Blitz. Obviously, the difference in power matters. It's the underlying tension of their entire relationship and their lives. Stolas is burdened by the mountain of expectations thrust upon him from a very young age while Blitz is constantly reminded that he can NEVER be part of that world, that he is "smaller and not as important" not just in Hell's hierarchy but in his own life and family. Stolas very literally has power over Blitz (through the grimoire, the arrangement, his position in society) and Blitz uses their relationship as an excuse to reverse those roles. But that power dynamic, in one form or another, never truly goes away. And for Blitz, it's a lot easier to paint Stolas as this manipulative symbol of power and himself as nothing more than Stolas' plaything. It's easier to be angry than to be vulnerable and accept that someone might care about him.

"Dismiss" is the keyword in that quote. All that Blitz has been able to process is that Stolas has decided to end the relationship that they have. He feels ls like a choice has been taken away from him so he lashes out because he's not ready to emotionally tackle what the rest of Stolas' offer might entail. If Stolas hates him, just wants to play with him, then he is justified in his anger, his self-destruction, his isolation. If the world is mean, you're "allowed" to be mean back.

But

In that moment he forgets that Stolas is someone he actually cares about. Someone he's known for way too long and clearly wants to keep in his life, no matter how reluctant he can be to admit it. Someone who is not innately cruel or manipulative but sad and desperate for connections in a lot of the same ways that Blitz is. And Blitz immediately sees that he's miscalculated something.

Somewhere along the way the fictional version of Stolas that he's allowed himself to be mad at and the real one that he's not ready to admit he cares about have merged into something real that he has actual power over. Stolas can get hurt and Blitz can be the one who does it. He has once again allowed his greatest fears (which Stolas so frequently symbolizes) to co-opt his loved ones, to give him an "out" even though he didn't actually want one in the first place.

I'm definitely not the first person to say this but I think this is an example of the miscommunication trope done right. Their individual struggles are what cause them to be unable to connect during this conversation or to even have a proper conversation in the first place. There is no convenient misunderstanding or third party fabricating this rift. Both of them have preconceived ideas of what the other one is thinking but those ideas are flawed and rooted in self-hatred. They also both shutdown in their unique ways when the conversation starts heading in the direction they'd feared it would.

Blitz and Stolas work because they're both fucked up in similar ways, because they want similar things. That's the same reason why they're uniquely designed to hurt one another. A fear of rejection and a yearning for happiness. To borrow a quote that has been used by literally everyone from Spiderman to Evangelical preachers, "hurt people hurt people."

anyway, I really liked this episode.

(twitter thread screenshots sourced from this reddit post)

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valtsv · 7 months

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i would love to hear more of your thoughts on michael shelley!!! 🌀🚪✨

you're in luck because i've sat on thoughts about him for years and i finally feel like i can articulate them. because michael shelley is such a well written case of tragic horror in the horror tragedy podcast. and, despite my criticisms of season 5, it really did do an excellent job in concluding his character arc with the gertrude backstory episode. in a podcast where a common in-universe theme is that knowledge, and the pursuit of knowledge, is dangerous, michael is a subversion in that his ignorance of the horrors of the world he lived in not only didn't save him, but was intentionally engineered to make him vulnerable to exploitation and harm (which, on a broader scope, emphasises the futility of the world of the magnus archives - regardless of whether you participate in or turn a blind eye to the systems at play, involved or uninvolved, you are not safe).

furthermore, i really appreciate the subversion of traditional tropes of the sacrifice as a typically female figure taken advantage of by a male father, brother, or lover, whose tragic and horrible death is used to motivate him (whether to greatness or self-destruction), with michael being a son sacrificed by his mother (or grandmother) figure, who never actually loved him and whose 'frail' and 'nurturing' qualities were weaponised incompetence used to gaslight and manipulate him - and who continues to operate successfully (at least in terms of what can be said to be 'success' in a world like the magnus archives) without being haunted by any apparent doubt about the decision she made, or any hesitation to use others in similar ways, following this betrayal. which makes the fact that he's sewn into the fabric of a being that represents lies in their most insidious form, used as a weapon to devour people and destroy their lives, all the more abhorrent in hindsight - he is forced to not only relive his trauma in an endless loop (or spiral, if you will), but to become the mechanism which enables it. michael is taken to the edge of something evil (at least from a human perspective), and pushed over the threshold with no hope of recourse. there's almost a reverse orphic quality to it - he descends into terrifying other world, one which exists side-by-side with but fundamentally seperate from his own, against his will, and looking back will only cause him pain as he's assaulted by memories of a life he will never be able to reach.

i think a lot of people forget to look past the surface with michael, despite there being an entire episode dedicated to doing so. which is understandable, he's a very outwardly expressive character - but this is intentional obfuscation to hide an incredibly damaged victim whose hatred of this part of himself is integral to his entire reason for being, and which the rejection of causes him to be unmade, incapable of existing as this contradictory nightmare any longer. it's a mercy killing, and yet it is violent and painful, because michael cannot and should not exist, and excising that graft used to muzzle the distortion is as agonising as latching it into place was in the first place. when michael-the-distortion says about michael shelley "he was born. he was pointless. and he should have died." there is an implicit longing there, a rage at the way he was used, his decisions made for him and used to imprison something else instead of ever being allowed to exercise any measure of free will. because michael shelley probably would have died for the archivist, given the opportunity, but he never got the choice.

#🐉#michael shelley #tma

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dunmeshistash · 20 days

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My post about animal loving in Dungeon Meshi got a lot of traction (and I'm very happy so many people resonated with it) but I did leave out details that were too specific to the personal situation of the characters since I wanted to write something that was easy to understand by someone that had only seen up to that episode, since the episode about Senshi's past wasn't out yet, and because I wanted to focus on that subject as it related to that scene.

Ofc Senshi's relationship to Anne was more complex, he named her after the pony his party had to eat and he probably saw Anne the pony in the Anne the Kelpie, I think that would fit better in a Senshi analysis than an Anne the Kelpie analysis. There's also the fact that even tho Laios *knows* monsters are unpredictable and wild he thought he could control Kensuke which backfired during the dragon fight.

But those details I don't think added much to my line of thought, the way people justify why they think an animal is special varies a lot and can be rooted in past trauma, but the complexity of the relationship is one-sided. Not to say you can't have complex feelings about an animal, as long as at the end you understand them and their needs.

The Laios thing wasn't quite the same but it was also part of our relationship to animals tbh, I was analyzing it thru a lens of love and Laios does love Kensuke as an animal, but he also thought it was an animal he could control, which I also think it's human nature, he thought since he "understood" Kensuke he could control it, but he says so himself, he doesn't know how monsters think.

I think this one relates more to people that have so much experience with an animal that they forget wild animals are still unpredictable, a "perfectly trained" Lion is still capable of biting your head off even if it didn't the last 100 times.

I really enjoy how Laios reacts to it after he suffers the consequences tho

He never takes it personally when he suffers because of a monster, even towards the Red Dragon he never reacts in anger as if he needs to "take revenge" on the dragon and even tho Kensuke "betrayed" him he still feels sorry when he thinks he might have harmed him later on.

The thing he says about trying to find an use to living monsters reminds me of another Kui work. it's a great read and made me think a lot, chapter 8 from 'the dragon school is on top of the mountain' (Another option if you can't open mangadex)

This got longer than I intended and I'm not going anywhere with it, I just love animals and talking about loving them.

#I'm just rambling #dunmeshi thoughts #ryoko kui #long post #longpost #about cyan

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ohwaitimthewriter · 4 months

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The Memory Keeper

Chapter 1 : List.

Pairing : Noa x human reader

Warning : A bit of mourning. Otherwise, all clear for this one!

Summarize (please I'm so bad at writing these!): A woman, allowed to live as long as the virus keeps running through her body, living on autopilot for 260 years, is going to see her life takes a new turn, finding hope in something that might come to put an end to her wandering.

Words : 3.2k

A/N : It has been a long time since I've written something and it feels pretty good to get back at it with this story! I hope you'll like it and do not hesitate to share your thoughts or like/reblog, it's always appreciated! As English isn't my native language, I'm sorry if you find mistakes or weird wording in there, let me know if you find some and I'll be glad to correct them!

Enjoy your reading 😊

The Memory Keeper masterlist.

It wasn't going to be a difficult day. The list was ready, the tasks the same as the day before and the day after. You had to go to the river: catch a fish, fill the flasks with fresh water, bathe… You had to get on your horse and on the way back, stop at the 16th tree on the right, get off, walk 30 steps and fill the bag with blackberries. You had to avoid the brambles and avoid tripping over the prominent root. Get back on the horse and ride home.

Prepare the fish: remove the head and tail, the skin, gut it and remove the bones, light a fire to cook it. Yes, evolution had done many things, but it must have missed the episode where it was necessary to improve the human digestive system. So the fish still had to be cooked.

The garden had to be tended. Over the years, it had evolved too. It had been a long time in the making. A vegetable garden, tomatoes, green beans and, you couldn't quite remember how, artichokes had found their place too. An apple tree was easy to grow. It took time, but it was easy. And then there was this little gem you'd stumbled upon one day: a rosebush. It was an important one. You had to take care of it too.

You always had to do something.

Your hands knew what to do and how to do it. Your legs took you where you needed to go, and at that particular moment, they had led you to your horse. You had to remove his saddle and bridle, check his hooves and remove any stones that might have got stuck on them. Run your hand over his belly to loosen the skin compressed by the girth. And don't forget to give him a drink. When it came to eating, he found everything on his own, except perhaps an apple, which you gave him from time to time to thank him for his help. He knew how to ask, too. In fact, he huffed and gave you a nudge.

Okay, an apple.

He followed you to the apple tree and you climbed onto his back. You could reach the branches, but it was always difficult to keep your balance. Especially when your right hip wasn't working properly. And you sighed. It really wasn't convenient.

You had to go on with the list, what was next?

“ Hearing my voice at least once and speaking so I don't forget.”

This was important. You had to remember how to speak. The world had forgotten, but you must not. You had no right to forget.

“Say something new.”

And you looked around.

“It's cloudy today.”

Which meant rain wasn't far off. Your horse was now grazing beside you.

“You should take shelter.”

You smile, you'd said one more sentence today. Your horse's ears twitched as if to say “I do what I want” and you shrugged. After all, he was the one to decide. But you didn't want to get wet in the rain. You patted his neck and went off to find shelter in your wooden hut.

You've lived here for a long time. A very long time. So long that you no longer needed a torch to light up the big room when night fell or when the clouds darkened the place. You knew exactly where the shaky table was, the armchair with its deformed, hollowed-out seat and even the little plastic pot you kept forgetting to put back on the table to avoid getting your feet caught in it. And despite the years, you never tripped over it.

You were right to come home. You'd just had time to put the water flasks and the cooked fish on the table when a torrent of water hit the floor. The end of the list would have to wait. The timing was perfect, as your stomach signaled that it was time to fill up, and the smell of the wood-fired fish made your mouth water.

Settling back in your armchair, you ate the fish, watching the rain fall against the hut's only window. Eating with your hands was no longer as disturbing as it had been at first. There were a lot of memories that had slipped away over time, but you almost smiled when you thought back to the embarrassment you'd felt the first time you'd had to eat like that. If you'd known back then where you'd end up…

A sigh.

Drops tumbled against the window and some seemed to challenge themselves to get to the bottom first. They were following the path traced by others before them, but obviously not all roads were good ones to take. Some raindrops went straight down, others tried to cut off their opponents' path, and still others weaved in and out to create their own path. Then a raindrop caught your eye. It seemed the most likely to win the mad race. It glided and slalomed proudly until it landed delicately on your windowsill, blending in with its sisters who had landed there before it.

You turned your eyes to the last piece of fish, which you brought to your mouth.

You took one last look out the window, and that's when you caught sight of it.

A shadow.

A shadow had just moved past your window. The rain kept on pounding against it and you could see the trees in the distance stirring in the wind, and you were sure you saw the shadow moving, quickly to the right, but the shadow was gone. There were only raindrops, only the wind, and you could even hear the dull roar of an incipient thunderstorm.

A deep breath. You had to.

Then a sigh.

The rain and wind must have played a trick on you. If the storm picked up, you definitely wouldn't be able to finish your outdoor to-do list. But that didn't matter, there was still plenty to do inside.

First you had to tidy up. Keeping the interior clean and tidy was important, so you couldn't leave the water bottles on the table. You grabbed them and stepped over the little plastic pot that stood between the table and what you could call a kitchen. At least, that's what you would have called this part of the hut back in the day, because there was only a broken sink and a cupboard without a door. You passed the front door and it rattled against the latch in the wind. You had managed to install a branch across the door, allowing you to keep it closed in bad weather. However, as it didn't close very well, the wind always managed to rattle it between the branch and the latch. But you got used to the noise. So you walked past the shaky door to put the water bottles in the cupboard, and when you heard a suspicious rustling sound, you jumped, staring at the door.

You frowned at the unusual sound. You had been holding your breath, but the wind suddenly whistled through the doorframe, which was sorely lacking in hermetic seals. So you breathed out, taking a calmer breath. The wind. Mother Nature was definitely testing your nerves tonight.

Well, you still had to change your clothes. Night was coming on and you couldn't possibly sleep in your day clothes. You stepped over the little plastic pot again and made your way to the wooden chest beside the fireplace to find a t-shirt and a pair of jogging shorts with a hole in the left knee. Maybe one day you'd find a stray piece of fabric while walking through the forest, so you could mend it. But you hadn't yet got to the list asking you to explore the surrounding area.

There were 7 lists divided into 4 sections, themselves arranged in 12 categories. It was your way of keeping track of time. You no longer counted the days, let alone the years; you'd long since lost the very notion of time. But to grow crops, harvest the fruits of the forest and simply follow nature's millimetric events and be able to anticipate them, you needed a reference point. The lists, though mostly identical, were that reference point. Hanging on the wall with pieces of wood you'd carved yourself, they determined your days and the things you had to do.

You didn't really know when or how you'd started making these lists. But judging by the ink, half washed away by the years - some of the lists had even gone back to being blank - it must have been a long time ago.

You put the current day's list back in its place. Tomorrow, you'd have to complete it while carrying out the next one. But there was one more thing you needed to do indoors before settling into your armchair for the night. One last important thing.

From the chest, you took out a picture frame. The corners were worn, the wood had crumbled and you had to handle it carefully to avoid getting splinters in your hands. You set the frame down on the floor by the fireplace, knelt in front of it and reached into the jar on your right to pick a rose petal, which you placed carefully in the right-hand corner of the frame.

You struggled to swallow.

That's where it always got complicated.

Once again, you reached into the jar and pulled out 7 petals. You always needed 7 petals. You placed 6 of them in a circle on the dry twigs in the fireplace and began humming a song whose words you'd long since forgotten. But you remembered the feeling. You felt a lump in your throat, and you often wondered how you managed to keep the song going.

You hummed, and on the last petal, with the help of a needle, you delicately traced his initials. You had to be careful not to press too hard, you shouldn't pierce the petal, just brush against it enough to see, if you concentrated hard enough, the outline of the letter you were drawing. You also had to blink a few times to see clearly what you were doing. It was important to get it right. Once you'd written the letter on the petal, you laid it at the center of the circle.

It was always at this moment that your hands shook. You needed a moment. Just a bit of time.

You had to wipe your hands over your eyes, the most important thing was to handle the two flints on the floor with care. Your hands had to be steady, not shaking. You interrupted the song to get your breathing under control.

Inhale.

Breathe out.

Grab the flints.

Inhale.

Exhale.

A sharp stroke.

The clatter of the stone threw sparks onto the pile of twigs and a flame sprang up. You started humming again as the fire slowly consumed the wood until it reached the petals of the circle.

A tear.

The fire continued to progress and you stared desperately at the petal in the center, quickly ridding yourself of the tears that were blurring your vision. The flame touched the edge of the petal and you watched the letter “C” burn away and disappear into the ashes.

The flame faded as the twigs gradually disappeared and, once gone, you slipped the petal on the frame back into its jar.

Now you had to put the frame away. Your fingers brushed the edge of the picture inside of it. Despite the years, you had managed, by some miracle, to keep the photograph almost undamaged. At least, sufficiently intact that you could still distinguish the shape of an ape in the center of the picture, despite the cracks.

He was a force of nature. You had taken this photo on a December day, you still knew because you could still discern the white flakes clinging to his dark fur. Back then, you loved taking pictures.

What did they call you again?

The memory keeper.

Even after all this time, it still made you smile. You gently squeezed the frame between your fingers, keeping it balanced on the knees you'd just tucked in towards you. This way, he was a little closer to you.

You made an extra effort to remember the day. He was standing high enough to see everyone around him. He must have been talking about something important; he always had that powerful, soul-piercing stare when he was saying something important. But he always looked…

“Grumpy.”

You concluded your thought in a whisper that knotted your throat. Grumpy. You almost expected to hear him growl, his ego bruised, every time you reminded him that he was sometimes a little too grumpy. “Grumpy because a lot on my shoulders,” he'd snap back at you. “No, grumpy because you're old” you'd always reply, your eyes always playful. And you were the only one who could say such a thing, with the only result being an amused snore coming from him.

And you felt yourself take a deep breath. Of all the pictures you'd taken, this was the last one you had left. You had to put the frame back in the chest, so your fingers tightened even more around the wood. Your head tilted slightly forward, closing your eyes as the wood touched your forehead.

Tonight was difficult.

You took another deep breath, and before the knot in your throat hurt too much, you straightened up and went to put the frame in the chest.

“Caesar, tonight is really difficult,” you whispered, watching the shadow of the lid close over the frame.

------------

It had been a restless night. When your eyes opened the next morning, they felt heavy and swollen, and you found yourself rubbing your eyes to try and make the heaviness go away.

Today, there was much to do. After changing from your night clothes to your day ones, you removed the branch blocking the door and let the sun shine in, warming your skin. The fresh early-morning air caressed your skin and you took a few seconds to smell the distinctive light scent that follows a thunderstorm.

No sooner had you taken a few steps forward than your feet bumped into something hard, causing you to lose your balance. In a fraction of a second, you found yourself on your butt on the ground, a stabbing pain in your right hip that had failed to move to stop you from falling.

“Ouch!” was the only thing that slipped out of your mouth.

You straightened up slightly, remaining seated in the grass, to see what had caused your fall and a pile of apples laid exactly under the wobbly small porch that covered your front door.

God, what a dummy not to have put that away last night. You thought to yourself, looking down at your hands full of dirt. You'd have to go to the river to clean it up, and now you'd just have to take your night clothes with you because you'd also have to wash the ones you were wearing-the mud from the storm must have dirtied your current clothes.

A pile of apples. You thought as you rubbed your hands together.

A pile of apples. You glanced at your right hip. Pfft, if you'd made Caesar break it to put it back in its place, you'd never have fallen today. In fact, you'd have avoided more than one fall.

All because of a misplaced pile of apples.

A pile of misplaced apples.

And like a light bulb switching on, your gaze suddenly fell on those apples that actually had nothing to do there. You hadn't gathered them the day before.

Then you heard it. A muffled purr came gently from behind you. Surely you should have turned around, stood up and dealt with it, but you'd found yourself rooted to the spot, eyes glued to those apples, waiting as an orangutan appeared in your field of vision.

And you refused to look at him, your hands balled into fists to keep them from shaking. You weren't afraid. No. But for some obscure reason, your brain had simply decided to freeze.

The orangutan once again let out a rumble, softer this time, and held out his hand to you.

“I'll help.”

His voice made you blink several times. You did your best to snap out of your stupor, but this time your eyes agreed to look at him, and the orangutan seemed delighted.

Just one more moment. It took another second, just one, to see your hand slip into his and before you knew it, you were back on your feet.

“Raka, we must go.”

The second voice surprised you a little. It sounded familiar and your eyes fell on a chimpanzee, a little further away, who had just finished saddling a horse. You frowned, your horse? You were trying to determine whether it was really yours, but the distance didn't allow you to be sure. There was only one way to find out.

So you whistled.

The horse shook its head and the chimpanzee didn't have time to grab the reins before your horse galloped off to meet you. They were going to take your horse… in exchange for a stack of apples?

You grabbed the reins and stroked the horse's neck as he snorted. He chewed the bit and blew heavily through his nostrils.

For a fraction of a second, you forgot about the two large apes who, from the sounds they were making, weren't particularly happy to have lost a chance of obtaining a second means of locomotion: in your peripheral vision, you could see another horse quietly grazing.

Your hands still knew what to do, and it didn't take you long to remove the bridle and bit from your horse's mouth.

“He doesn't like it.” you said simply.

And only silence answered you, so you showed the bridle to the two apes.

“The bit, he doesn't like it, he's not used to it.”

Your answer didn't seem to convince them. They stared at you, dumbstruck, and if you paid close enough attention, you could almost see their mouths hanging wide open. And that left you bewildered. What didn't they understand? You'd heard them talking, so that certainly wasn't the problem.

“You can't take my horse.” You went on, starting to remove the saddle.

It was becoming increasingly obvious that they were staring at you as if you'd just landed from the sky.

“If you want a horse, there's a wild herd to the south, past the river.” And you pointed in the right direction.

They remained silent as tombs, but the chimpanzee followed the direction you pointed with his eyes.

“Just be careful, the group's stallion isn't very friendly.” You thought it important to tell him.

Your gaze fell back on them and the orangutan, Raka, if you'd heard correctly, hadn't moved a muscle. The chimpanzee, on the other hand, was staring at you thoughtfully, as if he was trying to put together a puzzle with a missing piece. He then moved towards you inquisitively, perhaps, confused?

“Echo, speak?”

It was certainly the most surprising sentence you'd ever heard in your life.

#planet of the apes #kingdom of the planet of the apes #fanfiction #noa x human reader #noa x reader #pota #kotpota #oc/reader

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growling · 4 months

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*average self-proclaimed safe space tumblr blog voice* I soooooo support people with schizophrenia that must be so hard to you anyway I just saw some weird looking woman talking to herself right outside my house im fearing for my life should I call the cops. Yeah dude I support all the adhd havers in the chat just try to pay attention when I talk to you it's not that hard it's like the least you could do to show some regard for the other human being in front of you. Like it's fine to have memory problems but why did you forget this one thing in particular that was important to me do you like not care or anything you should try harder. I am one of the only real mental health advocates to still exist in this world I hear your struggles that being said I hope I never get to meet one of those irl sociopaths or people with aspd whatever they call them now they're so freaky and they can blend into society so well you might never know if you're actually face to face with an actual socio i mean person with aspd in the store absolutely one of my biggest fears what if they torture me in their basement. I absolutely empathize with all the people in here suffering from delusions as long as they like, don't actually show it or have one concerning me that'd be highkey uncomfy leave me out of this dude im not talking to you until you get help, anyway my fav character from my anime just presumably died but i still think they actually survived im sooo delulu lol. We should push for more wheelchair accessibility in our cities I agree but like it's so difficult to tell how many people are actually disabled and who are actually faking it, like, ummm why did that "wheelchair" "user" guy stand up just now cover blown lmaoo…. Yeah I support people with facial differences but I still have a right to be disgusted you can't control my emotions anyway can you tag your selfies as #body horror this deeply triggering to me. Speaking of triggering can you also pleaseee hide your scars or at least warn us beforehand jesus do you know how many people genuinely do not want to see it. Here is my extremely fast strobing lights and flashing gifset #epilepsy. Yeah I loveee girls with bpd beautiful princess disorder am i right they're so interesting the stigma sucksssss i'd love to get to be one's favourite person as long as they don't actually have any of those weird or violent symptoms or don't go into any of their "episodes" near me like that's a bit dramatic….. I deeply feel for those who had underwent narcissistic abuse from the hands of an npd I think my shitty ex boyfriend was a narcissist too tbh #surviving narcissism here are 10 signs you are dealing with a narcissist and here's a tutorial on how to trigger a narc crash to epically own them anyway does anyone else think we should start enforcing mandatory castration of all the newly diagnosed narcs like you know what happens when they reproduce right. But I am willing to support them as long as they go to therapy to get that fixed it's just you know. Anyway sometimes hospitalisation is fine if they're genuinely a danger to themselves like what do you want them to go live on the streets or actually get help?? I support all the people dealing with being a professionally diagnosed disordered system and I think it's sooooo terrible how literally 99% of the youth population nowadays is purposefully faking it for attention I did my research (1 minute google search, 2 minute r/fakedisordercringe scrolling session and consulting a single system that agrees with me). It's just not believable to me that there's really that many people with it isn't it supposed to be rare… Also are we really sure all those alleged people in their heads are really real or just their imagination maybe all of them are actually faking it huh food for thought. I am very uncomfortable with nonverbal high support needs ppl actually having sex like consent is supposed to be explicitly verbal only and, are we really sure they can even consent arent they like basically children. You can't call me ableist I'm literally autistic

#mine #actually autistic #actually npd #actually plural #ableism #sanism #npd stigma #bpd stigma #pluralmisia #<- gonna add on to these later i am. bad at tagging warnings #i needed this off my chest like. can these people stop #dont know how comprehensible this is im bad at articulating myself #long post

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lightwing-s · 8 months

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𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏𝐒

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐯 ; 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬

pairing: jason todd x fem! reader

summary: you're pregnant. somehow, your baby daddy has to find out about it.

word count: 5,6k warnings: pregnancy, mentions of abortion.

a/n: i wrote and rewrote this a lot, and I don't think this is the best I could come up with, but here it is. a lot more angst that previous episodes and I do recommend reading it while listening to The Flame by Valerie Deniz and also Give me Love by Ed Sheeran because I love how emotional that song usually makes me feel. Hope you all enjoy it ♡♡♡

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! ♡

links: previous ; next ; series masterlist ; general masterlist

With a deep sigh, you tried to settle down your nerves. Your hands were sore. Sweaty. Tired of trying. The heaviness still lingered on your chest. The feeling of incoming doom. The air all around was thicker than you’d remembered it for, nearly making it impossible for you to breathe. And you swore to your reflection in the mirror, you were gonna make it through.

It had been three nights since the result. Two days of pain. And one single thought looming in your mind. Pregnant. You’re pregnant. You didn’t know what to do, nor what to think. Sinking into a pit of terror and despair. The idea frightened you, tore you apart. And just thinking of your future, of what was to come from now on, made your head spin.

Today, you forced yourself to forget. Pretend your life was normal, like it used to be. Not Much had changed since you had taken the test three days ago, but to you it felt like everything was different.

You had skipped the gym the last couple of days, the first time doing it since you could remember, scared to face anybody and them finding out, but also too anxiety stricken to even leave your bed. You felt cramps, but also your stomach turning. You felt nauseous, but you weren’t sure if it was due to your newfound condition, or if it was the anxiety acting out.

Nessie had called, and you gave her some excuse that your boss needed you elsewhere. Another city. A quick work trip, you’d be back soon. At work, you told them you had caught some contagious disease you found on google, and they let you off for the entire week. Thankful for a relatively full pantry, you survived for two days on your own, but you sure couldn’t manage to eat much anyway.

You’ve never lived worst days. You were sure of that. Fear fills you to the brim. Sadness eats you up from the inside. And because of that, you felt even worse. There are so many people who dreamed of being where you were now, of getting a positive. So many have struggled for this. And here you were, ungrateful for yours. But you never wanted it in the first place. Not now, not like this. It didn’t follow your plan. It wasn’t perfect.

It wasn’t long ago that you were graduating college. And as of this moment, you were a mere assistant, not even a proper writer or a journalist yet like you’ve dreamed since you were little. An assistant. The bottom of the food chain, with still a lot to grow and harvest in your career. You neither had the finances, the stability, nor the time and mental capacity to be raising a baby on your own.

Because you would be raising it on your own, wouldn’t you? Your baby daddy would just disappear, like many others you’ve heard about. He would pack his things and disappear. He would live his life, continue with being young, having fun, while you were left to fend for yourself and your kid. All alone.

Would you even tell him? Should you even tell him?

Three nights. Three nights of torture. Of overthinking the future and sulking in your bed, your pillow drenched with your tears. You knew you’d go crazy if you kept that going for too long. So, finding some bit of courage, some tiny little ounce of determination, you left your bed that morning ready to forget. Ready to clear your mind, to make it think straight. And then, you wished, you would know what to do.

You showered, ate, did your skincare and put on makeup, and went for a walk around the park. But you just had to step out of your apartment to find someone who made you think instantly of him. Running back inside and leaving your raven haired neighbor staring confused at you, you made a beeline to the bathroom, dropping your entire breakfast in the toilet.

You had to tell him, hadn’t you? You had to tell Jason. It was the right thing to do, right?

So, here you were. Back at the gym you’d quit a month ago in favor of another. All because of your last encounter. You thought it was the best to be done, remove him entirely from your life so you could be free again. If only you had known then where you’d be a month later, you’d have laughed at the irony the world was throwing at you. You still remembered the times he’d come, praying he didn’t have them changed for some reason. Maybe he wanted to avoid you too. Maybe he had quit. Please, God. Be on my side, only for today.

It had been, perhaps, a full hour since you arrived. Roy had greeted you with a large smile, asking if you were back for good. You couldn’t match his enthusiasm, offering him a poor excuse of your own smile instead. All this time, you couldn’t complete a full set, never mind finish an entire exercise. Your body trembled, not answering you. Too exhausted. The heaviness on your chest helped in weighing you down and making every effort insufficient.

The weights you had tried to use now stood on your feet. Crooked, disordered, unorganized. Then, you found yourself looking at your reflection in the mirror. Your eyes were red and swollen. Your lips were dry and exposed some nervous bite marks you’d been taking off them. There were a few pimples on your forehead, and you had bags under your eyes. In the corner of the mirror, too stood the reflection of the one you’d been looking for.

He chatted with another man. It wasn’t Roy, by the darker hair color and shorter size. Yet it was a face you recognized, but failed to name. Jason looked happy, smiling as he spoke excitedly about something you did not know about. Were you really ready to tell him? Were you okay with ceasing his happiness?

Your eyes lingered on him for longer, and eventually, his eyes found yours. His smile was quickly replaced by a frown. An air of disgust and anger. His tongue poked his cheek, and he rolled his eyes at you. Turning around, he decided that facing the other direction was much better than facing you. Now, his broad back was all you were left to stare at.

You felt the nausea return. Leaving your things behind, you rushed to the restroom. He hated you. He hated you and he was fucking right for it. And what were you thinking? Telling him he was going to be a father, to your baby above all, at the fucking gym?

After dumping your stomach in the toilet once more, you wanted to get out of there. Collecting your things and shoving them inside your bag, you headed out. However, in good old fashion, you felt a body stop as it came in contact with someone else’s. You didn’t have to look up to know who it was. Eyeing you from above, Jason started to apologize before he could recognize who you were, proceeding to roll his eyes again. You excused yourself, still looking away from him, and his demeanor changed from anger to worry.

“Yn, are you alright?” he inquired, reaching for your arm. You felt your eyes start to burn, the tears finding their way back, and the nausea only got worse. Running past him, all you managed to say was a quick “I’m fine,” before disappearing.

You arrived at his building straight away, using the faint memory of the directions that remained in your brain from the night he brought you here. You were still clad in your gym clothes, not caring to stop at home first, nor remembering to actually do it. But it was fine, because you didn’t sweat anyways. You couldn’t even finish one full exercise in the hour or so you were there.

So you waited. You waited on the opposite sidewalk, thinking back to the first time you came here. It was almost two months ago, or maybe more, you don’t remember exactly. It seemed longer, though. It all seemed longer. Longer than two months. Longer than three days. It all seemed like an eternity.

The sun waved goodbye on the horizon, hiding between Gotham’s skyline. The weather started to shift, as the warmth of summer slowly gave place to the strong winds and the coolness of the autumn days. The breeze made you wish you had brought a coat or something to keep you warm, the thin gym clothes you wore doing nothing to help you. And so, your body shivered.

Shivered from the cold. Shivered from the fear. The agony you’d so desperately tried to keep away returning back to you. If you went up. If you knocked on his door. If you talked to him, there was no pretending anymore. There was no hiding facts you so wished you could. There was no fighting reality.

A lump formed in your throat, and you tried to swallow it away, to no avail. Your breath, your hands, your legs, your all trembled. Fighting to keep yourself up when all you wanted was to fall down, to curl up under your covers and hide from the world. From the truth.

You thought back to the days when things were easier. To your days at the park, playing around with your friends, the hem of your jeans always dirty from mud, dust or paint. You remembered the days all you had to do was study, your chores, and your drawings. Reading books from sunrise to sundown, or for the entire night. Of when responsibilities didn’t follow you everywhere, and the perspective of the future didn’t break you down.

You thought of your parents. Of how mad they would get. There was always a path to them, a way to follow. A way to live your entire life. Just like they had done theirs. Any step out of that line often led you to trouble. ‘You have to get married to a good and respectful husband. One that will care and provide for you. And then, when the time is right, God will give you children to raise, just like he did to me and your father,’ your mother would tell you. ‘There’s nothing more shameful than a single mother’, were once the words of your father. And the thought of what they’d do to you once they found out had your tears rolling down faster than you could hold them in.

An old lady passed by you, asked if you were okay. You lied, like you’d been doing for the past few days. You weren’t one for lying, never was, and suddenly it was all you did. “Oh dear,” she cooed, and embraced you in an unexpected hug, before her tiny pomsky pulled her away.

Grey took over your surroundings, like one of those movie filters that left everything somber. A single headlight of a motorcycle let you know he was finally here. That the time of truth was upon you. You watched him park his motorcycle like a creep. Hidden in a dark corner, away from his sight. He had showered at the gym, and now wore a different outfit. Sweatpants and a hoodie.

He looked comfortable. You clearly weren’t. He looked happy. Opposite to you. Were you ready to take all that away from him? To curse him to the same pain and anxiety you were feeling now?

But you couldn’t do it alone. You couldn’t. You needed him. You needed him. You needed him by your side. You need someone, something. Something to tell you everything would be okay. Gathering up all your courage, every bit you could find within yourself, you took one step out of the sidewalk.

A deep breath taken before entering the building, you walked in without ceasing to cry. Each step you took up the stairs was heavy. Heavier than when you were drunk, and heavier than the day you left. Each step was a gulp. Each gulp was a scream inside your brain telling you to turn around. About two or three times along the way you stopped to look down, and wondered what would be of you if you’d just ran away.

In your mind, you counted each and every step. An attempt to clear it of thought. It obviously didn’t work. Your legs shook and your breathing faltered with the last steps you took to reach the sixth floor. The tears had dried, leaving your skin cold to the touch. You moved on automatic. Everything else you did a blank stain in your memory.

It was the feeling of the hardwood under your knuckles that brought you back to reality. The hollow sound it made woke you up, showing you’d made it to his door. Your breath got stuck in your throat, and you felt like you could vomit.

He took his time to answer the door. And you wondered if it was a sign to turn around. To leave. But your feet wouldn’t move, even if you screamed at them to do so. The ruffling inside the apartment made your heart jump, beating hard in its place. Your breathing halted, trapped in your larynx, as the tears started rapidly falling down again.

When he opened the door, it was like time had stopped. He assessed you through narrow eyes, still angry at you. You didn’t blame him, not at all.

“They run from you twice and still come right back,” he hissed. His voice was hoarse and monotone, and his eyes found yours in a blank stare. The corners of your mouth fell. Your chin trembled. And had to avert your eyes from him otherwise you’d start sobbing all over again. “Yn,” he called, and his voice didn’t show the hate or disgust anymore. It was worried. It felt pain. Softer and watchfull. “What happened?”

You took a deep breath, swallowing down the tears. Trying so hard to keep them in, but the drops that fell beside your sneakers on the floor were a testament of how your body had stopped responding to you a long time ago. Your shoulders shook, and Jason went from worried to desperate. He didn’t know what was going on. But seeing you like this made him freak out.

And suddenly he wasn’t mad at you anymore. In retrospect, maybe he never truly was. But whatever anger, or frustration he had disappeared from his body. You felt his touch on your shoulder, and you imagined he had just put one hand there as a sign of support. You’d be thankful for just that. But then, you felt his arms drawing you close, wrapping around you, until you felt the soft cotton of his hoodie through your cheek.

The tears ran down faster, soaking a spot on the thick fabric. Your loud sobs only made Jason pull you closer, not knowing how, but still trying to call you down. Whatever happened was too bad that you’d run to him of all people, and he felt obligated to help you in any way he could.

By this point, he was holding you up himself. Your body giving in to the tears. Jason tucked his nose in your hair, breathing in the sweet scent of your shampoo. He caressed your back, kissed you temple, spread warmth through your body with his own hands rubbing at your arms. However, your tears ceased to stop, making the stain under your eyes enlarge, second after second.

“Yn,” he whispered right into your ear. The air he let out hitting against your skin.

You pressed your eyes shut. The tears that still lingered there being forced out. You tightened your hold on him. He called you again, and forced his neck to get a glimpse of your puffy red eyes.

You didn’t want to let go, but forced yourself to push him away just so you could finally face him. You felt your throat dry, a weak cough trying to fix it up. Jason couldn’t help the quick thought of how pretty you looked when you cried, but he felt so much pain in his chest at the same time that he wished he would never see you like that again.

The first time you opened your mouth, nothing came out of it. Jason’s fingers drew figures on your back, both a distraction and an encouragement. You can do it, you can do it. With another deep, long breath, you slowly opened your eyes to meet his.

“I-I’m…” you started, breathless. A single tear late to fall from your eyes. “I’m pregnant.”

Jason’s mind went blank. His body was suddenly weightless. The moments past your announcement, a mere stain in his memory. You now sat beside him on his sofa, your hands covering your face as he heard continuous sobs coming out of you. Your knees tight against your chest, and it didn’t bother him you had your shoes on the sofa. Nothing bothered him. Nothing was on his mind.

Your body quivered, nonstop. His own unresponsive. What the hell did he do?

Pregnant. Eight letters that had the power to change everything. Pregnant. You were pregnant. With his baby.

Jason felt his chest tighten, and breathing suddenly was harder. He tried swallowing the knot in his throat away, but it wouldn’t bulge. Resting his back on the sofa, a hand threading through his hair, he allowed a couple of tears out, rubbing his eyes off any others that dared to hang around.

“Are you sure?” he asked, breaking the prolonged silence with a raspy voice. Moving your head from it’s place buried on your knees, your eyes looked at him with a pain he’d have thought he’d put a knife on your back. “It’s not that I don’t trust you,” he told you softly. “I just want to be sure.”

Straightening beside him, you stared at the cat worriedly looking up at the two humans occupying the sofa. You fiddled with your fingers, pulling at the fabric of your leggings.

“I took a test,” you started to explain. “Three nights ago. And my period was late, and it’s never late. And it’s not like we were careful when we…”

“Not at all.” Jason shook his head. You weren’t careful at all.

The room fell into silence again, the only sounds coming from the cat, now playing between his legs, unaware of the turmoil you’d just caused in his life.

“I’m sorry,” you said, resuming your sobs. “I’m so sorry.”

“No, no,” Jason kept saying. He turned on the sofa, sitting in a position he could easily wrap his arms around you once again. “No, Yn. Don’t be sorry. There’s nothing to be sorry about,” he soothed.

“Jason,” you called him, your voice broken. “How there’s not? I’m fucking pregnant!”

Jason held you tighter. But the truth was, he might’ve been just as scared as you were. A baby meant a new life, responsibilities. And he was still getting used to being an adult and the responsibilities that came with that. It was all going to change. And he had plans…

The two of you stood there until your sobs had quieted down. You didn’t know how long, but you were grateful he was quiet for the entire time. You were thankful he was quiet instead of telling you any of the things you’d thought he would. And you were also thankful he didn’t close his door on your face.

“Have you thought…” Jason tried to speak, but his voice kept on breaking. “Have you thought… of all possibilities?”

He hoped you understood what he meant, because he couldn’t bring himself to say it. It was a hard thing to ask, but he had to. He didn’t want you to think he was pushing you to it, but he needed to know if it was a possibility too. Jason remembered hearing some friends saying they had their girlfriends do it, that they basically forced them. But Jason would never.

He felt you moving on his chest, pushing yourself away from his body, and his breath halted. “It’s your call,” he whispered. “I’ll be there for any of them.”

You had sat back up, hands tugging at your leggings again while you thought. It took you long to answer. Too long for his liking. But he understood your pace, everything was happening way too fast. You needed to think things through. For some reason, his stomach took turns, making him feel sick as he waited.

“I don’t think I could do it,” you stated, staring blankly at your legs. “I don’t think I could end it.” Jason let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. A lightness on his chest he could not name. He nodded, as words didn’t make it out of his lips.

Leaning back on the sofa, you felt his shoulders hit yours. He let out another breath, it was long and you found it hard to read his emotions through it. He was silent beside you, making it even harder for you to guess what was going through his mind.

That’s it, he’s gonna tell you he can’t do it either. He’s gonna leave you alone.

“You just took one test?” he asked after a while. You just nodded. “We should go to the hospital,” he suggested, head turned to watch you. “Get a proper test, just to make sure.”

His suggestion made you hurt. The fact that he doubted you, the fact he thought you’d go to him if you weren’t a hundred percent sure, caused you a pain you did not expect. However, on the other hand, you knew he was right. You had to be certain. False positives happen, right? You could be wrong.

“Okay,” you agreed weakly, turning to face him after all. “I’ll do it.”

It might have been the uncomfortable chairs or the freezing air conditioning, but the time didn’t seem to pass. It was well over an hour since you’d arrived at the hospital, and you’d stopped counting how much you’ve waited for your test results to come out. They said between thirty minutes to an hour, but you were sure it had been longer than that.

While you remained seated for most of your wait, Jason was restless. He stood up and sat down more times than you remember, and he was seriously starting to piss you off with his pacing. Stopping in front of a snack machine, he put some dollar bills in it and took something with him before walking back to you.

Stretching his arm in front of you, he offered both a granola and a Snickers bar. In no mood to be healthy, even though your possible new condition sort of demanded that from you, you took the chocolate gladly.

Jason dropped down on a chair beside you with a huff, and took a bite of the granola bar with a certain annoyance. You were both tired of waiting, that was for sure. The agony you’d felt earlier had simmered down, but you too now sat restless, one of your legs shaking incessantly.

It was involuntary, but Jason’s hand on your knee made it stop. It lingered there for a while, fingertips gracing over the thin fabric and tugging at it just like you had been doing before. You saw his head move, and so did yours, catching his eyes.

Your expressions had been everywhere tonight. The whirlwind of emotions you had gone through justifying each and everyone of them. But this time, his eyes bore into yours much softer, sweeter than they’d been before.

“Yn,” he called your name as if you hadn’t been staring down at him for what seemed like forever. “Whatever happens. Whatever the results say. I’ll be here, alright? I won’t leave you.”

The sincerity in his tone made your eyes tearful once more, but this time you managed to hold them in. You gave him a soft smile, and you were really glad he was here with you now. Putting a hand on top of his, he flipped it over so you could interlace your fingers, caressing its back with your thumb just like he was doing to you.

It was then that your name was called, both of your heads snapping in the reception desk’s direction. Jason stood up and walked over, grabbing a single piece of paper before walking back to you with even taking a glance at it.

When he sat back, he offered you his opened hand. You intertwined your fingers, and held his with both your hands, taking it closer to your heart this time. You couldn’t deny the tiny bit of hope lingering inside you that, just perhaps, you were actually wrong. You weren’t pregnant. But, over the hours, you’d also grown accustomed to the idea. He opened the results with between his thumb and pointer finger, and both your eyes fell on the big letters found on top of it.

Positive. Again. It was positive. You were truly pregnant.

You let out a sigh, closing your eyes to stop the tears from returning. Jason’s hold on you tightened, and you could sense the tension on him returning. He buffed some air out through his mouth, taking another deep breath before doing the same thing again.

“That’s it,” his voice was shaky. “You’re really pregnant.” He forced himself to smile, and you tried to do the same. To no avail. His eyebrows furrowed. “What do we do now?”

“I don’t know,” you replied honestly. “I just wanna go home. It’s been a long night.”

“Okay,” he said softly, standing up and walking with you hand in hand till you left the hospital.

The parking lot was almost empty, and you found Jason’s car sitting isolated far ahead. The silver Toyota Supra shone under the faint light of a lamp post, and you remembered how surprised you were to find him driving it. It finally occurred to you that other than his name and his gym membership, you knew nothing about the man you were about to have a baby with.

He didn’t know you either. Gosh, you didn’t know a thing at this point. About him, about pregnancy, about babies and having children. He asked you ‘what now?’ and you didn’t even have an answer. How the hell were you going to do it?

When he felt your fingers leaving his, Jason immediately turned to face you. Frozen in place and flooded eyes.

“I don’t think I can do it,” you said breathlessly. “Jason, I don't think I can do it. I never wanted kids. I mean, I’ve never really thought about it. I didn’t want it now. I wanted to do it all right. This is not it.” You cried once again, rambling the words that left your mouth. Jason had walked over to you, trying to calm you down and wipe the tears off your face. “I don’t know anything about babies. I’ve only babysat before, but they were much older. And even my nephew, I didn’t meet him until he was, like, six months old. And I don’t know shit about pregnancies. I hated biology. I slept a lot during classes.”

“How can we do it? I barely know you. Gosh I don’t even know your surname, Jason. You’re what, Jason fucking Linetti? How can we have a baby together without knowing each other? We’re supposed to build a family together. A family. My family… I-I never had a family. Not really. I didn’t want a family, Jason. Not now. I don’t think I can do it.”

“Hey, hey,” he cooed, stopping your rambling. He cupped your cheeks with both his hands, holding your face. His forehead rested on yours, forcing you to stare him in the eyes. “I also don’t know what the fuck I’m gonna do. For fucks sake, Yn. But we have time. The baby is not gonna come tomorrow. We’ll figure things out. Together. We have each other, alright? You have me. I’ll be here, with you, all along. You don’t have to worry. We’ll learn how to do this together, and with time. Okay?”

Jason’s dark eyes passed you enough confidence to have you thinking that, maybe, possibly, he was right. You could actually do it. The baby isn’t coming tomorrow, you have time. You’ll figure things out. With Jason. Together.

Slowly, you nodded. You could do it, right?

Jason sighed, relieved you actually believed him, because as of right now, he himself was struggling to do so. Giving your head a long kiss, he pulled you into a hug before pulling away to open his car door to you to enter. Dropping on the driver seat beside you, you desperately waited to get back home.

“I’m Jason Peter Todd. I’m 22 years old. A leo. I work as an exercise physiologist, but I want to be a doctor someday. So I’m working on getting into med school soon. I love motorcycles, they are fucking cool and driving them makes me feel free. I have probably over twenty tattoos and my favorite book is probably Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen.”

“What was that for?” You gave him an amused smile.

“You said you didn’t know me or my surname. Now you do, and you can say you know a little. If you want my social security number too, it’s 108…”

“It’s okay,” you laughed, softly, for the first time in three days. “I guess knowing your surname is fine for now.”

He gave you a smile, but raised one eyebrow at you. Confused, you frowned, trying to understand what he meant until he pointed at you with his head, leading you to do the same as he did.

“Okay,” you started. “I’m Yn Sn. I work at Runaway Magazine as Sandra’s assistant, but I really want to be a journalist. I don’t have any tattoos because I’m afraid of needles, and I can’t choose a favorite book because I like too many.”

“Nice to meet you Yn Sn,” he greeted, extending his hand for you to shake.

“Nice to meet you too, Jason Todd. Now can you please take me home. I’m exhausted.”

“Alright,” he gave you a smirk. “Do you remember the address this time?”

He insisted on walking you to your door, wanting to make sure you actually got home safe. You didn’t know where he thought you could disappear to between the sidewalk and your apartment door, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t starting to enjoy his company.

The elevator ride was silent, and neither of you spoke as you tried to unlock your front door.

“Thank god,” you said. Relief spread through you as the door opened and you got into your home. Immediately taking off your sneakers, you placed them by the door so they could keep it open for you. Looking back at Jason, who still didn’t dare step inside your apartment, you managed to give him a thankful smile. “And thank you too, Jason.”

“You don’t have to thank me. It’s not even the least I can do, it’s my responsibility now.”

“But still, thank you. There were many ways out for you, and you took none,” you explained, resting your shoulder on the door frame.

“Yn, you didn’t make this baby alone” he began. “I saw your state when you knocked on my door, and I also made you a promise. I don’t usually break them.”

For a brief minute, you two stood in silence again. Eyes lingering over each other. A recognizable tension in the air. You averted your eyes from him, as warmth engulfed your cheeks, the painted nails on your toes suddenly a lot more interesting to you.

“I’ll be going then. Call me if you need anything, alright?” he said, already halfway to the elevator.

“Jason,” you called and he turned back. Hopeful. “Do you even have my number?”

He stopped to think, and a dumb smile appeared on his face upon realizing he had never asked you for your number, nor did he ever give you his. Taking his phone out of his sweatpants pockets, he handed it to you. “If you don’t mind. I think I really should have your number.” He combed a hand through his hair.

You typed in your phone number, trying to think of what to write your name as, but concluding your name would be just fine. You gave yourself a call so you could save his too later, and returned him his cellphone.

He awkwardly waved you goodbye, and called the elevator that opened up instantly, not having left your floor since you had gotten home. You watched him as the door began to close, head hanging low and a tired demeanor.

“Jason?” you called again, and he put his hand on the door just as it was about to fully close. It opened again, and he placed his hands on each side of the door frame. “Thank you,” you said softly.

“Stop thanking me,” he laughed and now allowed the door to close.

You stood there, dumbfoundedly watching the closed door as you swiftly repeated the entire night in your head. Every moment of pain, despair and torture morphing into nervous expectation of the future that was about to come.

You didn’t allow yourself to think too much about it. An entire day was already enough, you needed rest.

A rumbling beside you grabbed your attention, and your head turned to your friend’s door. Nessie poked her head out, clearly surprised to see you there.

“Weren’t you on a trip?” she asked, and you shook your head, leaving her a lot more confused.

“There’s so much we need to talk,” you sighed, allowing your weight to fall on her as you engulfed her in a tight hug.

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lisenberry · 5 months

Text

We drift in and out

Chapter 2: Share the same space for a minute or two

E/NSFW/MDNI

CW: Domestic fluff, postpartum thoughts and bodies, angst, hurt/comfort sex

2.7k

Ch.1. Ch.3 AO3

“I’ll take first watch,” John said, setting down the diaper bag and the baby carrier on your dining table as you tossed your keys in the bowl and breathed a sigh of relief.

It was late by the time you returned home from the hospital. Between the hourly blood pressure checks and constant feedings, you hadn’t gotten much rest while you were there.

And let’s not forget that every trip to the bathroom was harrowing, and fraught with more discomfort than you’d anticipated. The nurses practically babysat you until you’d had a successful piss. Apparently, it was an integral part of the healing process and could cause life threatening complications if you didn’t empty your bladder regularly.

You didn’t know what you looked like down there, but you could certainly feel it. You’d cried out so sharply, John burst through the door to find you sobbing and shaking on the toilet.

After that, you doubted he would ever look at you romantically again.

But you made it through, fueled by adrenaline and instincts. You just wanted to be back in your own space. To the nest you’d built away from the poking and prodding of strangers. Of the astringent smells of industrial cleaning products and the cold glare of fluorescent lighting.

John had stepped out just long enough to buy a car seat so that he could drive you and the baby home in his truck. He’d laughed when you told him it was unnecessary, and you’d planned on taking the bus back to your apartment.

“Nonsense, I insist,” had been his only reply as he kissed your forehead as if to leave you too flustered to argue.

You had a feeling you were the talk of the nurses’ station. The juicy drama of your life must’ve seemed more captivating than the latest episode of television. They were all genuinely sorry to see the three of you go.

The three of you.

“That’s not how it works, John,” you assured him. This wasn’t a stake out. He was going back to his apartment, and you were putting the baby to sleep in the cradle you’d put together yourself until she awoke hungry and wet in two hours.

And that’s how it would be for the next 18 years of your life.

“You need some rest.” He tucked his arms across his chest and cocked his head downward, as if to intimidate you with his size alone. You imagined it was a practiced tactic, and that it probably worked on his subordinates. Sent them scrambling to please him.

But John didn’t scare you. Never did. It was what kept you going back to him. Or perhaps more like waiting for him, all those years. An easiness. A comfort.

“I’ll sleep when she sleeps. That’s what all the books say.” Despite your confidence, you yawned against your will as you unhooked your daughter from the carrier.

You still hadn’t gotten used to how light she was, and yet how substantial she felt in your arms.

When you looked back up to John to tell him ‘Thank you’, and that you could take it from here, you were met with something you’d never seen in him before.

A longing. Something unshed in his eyes, and unsaid on his lips, as he took a step toward you as if to reach out.

“Do you want to hold her?” In all the commotion, you realized that John hadn’t held her yet. Aside from the few times he’d lifted her gently from the hospital’s bedside crib to pass her to you, as if she was a live grenade.

Maybe it’d made him uncomfortable. To come back, expecting to return to your casual arrangement, only to find you knocked up with some other guy’s kid. To be honest, you hadn’t expected more than a passing hello in the hallway.

For him to take one look at you and never call you again or darken your door for a quickie at midnight. He’d move on to someone from the gym, or the café girl down the street.

Except, he hadn’t seemed uncomfortable. He’d seemed in control, focused. Calm and steady as he’d adjusted your shitty hospital-issued pillow or fetched you a refill on your water. Averted his eyes respectfully while you worked tirelessly to get the fussy newborn to latch onto your breast.

Had he not wanted to intrude? Was he waiting for permission?

“I really do need to take a shower,” you added when he hesitated.

He’d be gone by the morning. Might as well take advantage of his help while it was offered.

“Good.” He nodded at that, relieved to be of service, as he took the sleeping babe from your arms with a grace you didn’t expect from his big, gnarled hands.

A grizzled bear, holding something so soft and small in a white sleeper dotted with blush pink roses. She didn’t even shift at the change from one of you to the next. Content and unbothered in her dreams.

After taking your time in the shower, knowing it might be your last for a while, you emerged to see the two of them on your couch, watching the nightly football coverage on the telly. John was talking to someone, voice raised with heated enthusiasm, and you assumed he was on the phone with one of his mates.

But as you inched closer, you realized he was recounting his opinions on the latest match to the infant on his chest.

“You can put her down if you want,” you smiled, as you motioned to the bassinet. “You don’t have to hold her all night.”

“I tried, but I can’t tell if she’s breathing when she’s over there. Quiet little thing.”

There was nothing in the baby books and videos about seeing a man who’d been inside you hold your child as if it was the most precious thing in the world. How it could change your brain chemistry. Make you stupid in ways you never thought you could be.

You sunk down onto the cushion next to them. He urged you to go to bed, to get some sleep before she woke up again, but you didn’t want to leave just yet. You wanted to see them like this. To be a part of whatever mischief was transpiring between them.

Laying your head on his shoulder, you closed your eyes and let sleep slowly find you.

“Sorry I missed it, love.” He kept his voice low, but it rung with a depth of emotion that cut through your slumber.

“Hmm, missed what?”

“Everything.”

*******

He didn’t leave the next day, or the day after that, except to shower and change clothes in his apartment, or pick up food from your favorite chip shop down the road. Every time he did go, you expected him not to come back.

Assuming he had returned to his usual schedule of sleep, eat, gym, fuck, repeat. With the fucking being someone else, of course. That you’d hear footsteps down the hallway outside and look through your peephole, covered in baby spit-up and leaking breastmilk, to see him leading a beautiful young woman into his flat.

Instead, weeks went by of him driving you to doctors’ appointments and joining you for walks in the park. Decaf iced lattes and naps on the couch. The faint smell of cigar smoke was the only indication that he’d taken a bit of time to himself.

The pang in your heart, and in your gut, when he carried the bags of dirty diapers down to the bin and sang Paul McCartney tunes horribly off key to get the baby back to sleep while you soaked in the bath tub.

Every day was a gift, you reminded yourself. He was just being nice. Playing house until it was time for him to go, the way you always had before. Except this time, he hadn’t even kissed you or made any advances other than a playful hug or a supportive rub of your shoulders as you pumped an extra supply of baby bottles.

None of your clothes fit anymore. You were too slim for your maternity jeans, and not quite down to your original weight. Maybe you never would be. Maybe you were the new you.

Nothing but forgiving loungewear and tinted moisturizer to hold you together.

It didn’t stop you from wanting him.

You’d think the trauma to your reproductive organs would swear you off sex for at least a few years, but there you were. Three months postpartum, salivating over his shirtless chest and slickening at the bulge in his sweatpants as he ate a bowl of tikka masala at your kitchen counter.

Maybe that was how you persevered as a species. The carnal urge to make the same mistake over and over again, consequences be damned. It would appear you hadn’t evolved beyond it.

Your doctor guaranteed you that you were fully healed and could resume sex with your husband (you’d long given up trying to explain away the six-and-a-half-foot beast keeping your child company in the waiting room as anything but) any time you felt comfortable. Had even started you on a new birth control. Hopefully one that worked this time.

But feeling comfortable and feeling desirable were two different things. John wasn’t your husband. He wasn’t your boyfriend. He had expressed no desire to be anything more than just a...friend? What was he even doing sleeping on your couch?

‘Go find someone fun and exciting and leave me to rot in peace,’ you wanted to scream at him.

A menace was what he was.

Finally, you stopped trying to get yourself off with your vibrator and threw it against the wall in frustration. A groan escaped you as you turned over and muffled a scream into your pillow.

You instantly regretted it the moment a soft knock sounded on your bedroom door.

“You all right in there?” He opened the door a crack and the light from the hallway peeked through.

“No, not really,” you whined, pitifully. Grateful that you hadn’t woken up the baby with your little tantrum.

You noted the displacement of the shadows as he bent down to pick your still buzzing vibrator from the floor and switched it off with a muffled laugh.

“Not doing the trick, is it?”

“I’m glad you think this is funny. I don’t even know my own body anymore." Fuck, you did not want to be having this conversation with him.

“What do you need, love?” He set your stupid, useless toy on the bedside table and leaned against the mattress. It tilted you towards him with his weight.

“I need to know that I’m still me. Somewhere in here. That I can still...” you felt dumb. You were a mother. You had a child to worry about. And all you cared about was whether or not you could still—

“Come?”

You nodded vigorously, feeling dumber by the minute. And he was there, in the dark of your room, smelling like pine trees and black pepper. Somehow, underneath it all, like your baby. Even though she wasn’t his.

Confusing and frustrating, and—

His mouth trapped yours then, cutting off any further conversation as his hands hitched under your nightshirt and yours found the waistband of his pants.

“I need you, John,” you gritted between teeth, both yours and his.

“Stubborn you are. Been waiting for you to ask.” He buried his face between the swollen flesh of your tits. Licking and lapping at your skin.

“Careful, they—”

“Squirt? I know. Not what I’m interested in, darling. They’re not mine anymore.”

He moved past your breasts and down your stomach. The raised scars where your skin had stretched too far, too fast. Making room for life within.

You were grateful he couldn’t see them in the dark. Even still, it felt like he found each one with his lips.

“Perfect, you are. You did so good.” You didn’t know what he meant. Only preened at the words as your cunt rose toward him and he moved lower towards your hips.

“Easy, John. Easy, please.”

You knew how big he was. He was the same, but you were different. Changed. You couldn’t do it. It’d been too long. Healed over and shaped anew.

“I know, baby. There’s nothing you can’t handle.”

His tongue met you then, in the cleft at your center. Teasing and taunting, he circled where you needed him the most. Hitting it just right and then moving away when you were teetering on the edge.

His beard and mustache grazing the sensitive nerves around the nub, inflaming you further until you pulsed at the absence of his touch.

Only for him to replace his mouth with the tip of his cock. Hard and thick, it nudged and prodded as it sought a weakness in your soft, wet entry way.

“You’ll tell me if it hurts, won’t you? I know how you like to be brave.” He bit out with a grin.

Brave? You were a disaster. Is that how he saw you?

“Please don’t stop.” The words rushed out as a shudder.

You’d take it, you’d take anything to feel full, to feel him. The pull and tug of being consumed.

Still, he hesitated. Pausing just at the tip. Speechless and restrained.

“Stop being so nice.” You squirmed and sought to meet him, pull him closer.

“There’s a girl. See? Not gone after all.” His teeth dug into your neck and you arched your hips against his.

So familiar. So at home.

He sunk in then, as if with your permission. You clasped and guided him in like the other half of you.

“How does it feel?” You didn’t mean to sound as wanton as you did. You needed to know.

“Like heaven, love. Like fucking heaven.”

He lips found yours again, savoring, remembering, committing you to memory as he reclaimed your pussy for his own. As much his as it was yours.

Offering himself in return.

Pumping in a slow rhythm at first, matching you, following you. Your legs around his waist and his hands tugging your hips to hit that perfect fucking spot.

It was still there. It hadn’t moved. He’d found it like lighthouse in a storm.

“You ready, or do you need more?”

“Don’t stop.”

He grunted then, drawing some sort of strength as he kept his rhythm and touched a free hand to your clit for help.

“Yes, yes, yes!”

He found you. When you couldn’t find yourself.

“That’s it, baby. That’s it.”

“Fuck, John!” You came with a rush of power and nature as he found your mouth again. He drank your sobs and replaced them with sounds of his own.

Tears filled your eyes and slid down your cheeks.

“You all right?” He asked against your neck, when you began to still, but you could only nod.

“I’m good. Thank you.” Simple words for how you felt.

“So fucking brave.” He wiped away your tears and nuzzled your cheeks with his bearded lips.

The couch sat cold and abandoned after that.

*******

But you found him a few weeks later, ashen-cheeked and staring troubled at his phone.

The baby was packed up in the pram and ready for a walk. She could smile now, and glowed with excitement and kicked her feet whenever her dark brown eyes met his glittering blue.

“I have to go. Got called in.” He turned a weary gaze towards you. Regret softening his usual starry skies and adding years to his features.

You knew this day would come, but it surprised you all the same.

A blow to your chest, taking the air from your lungs and tearing out your heart.

“I don’t know when I’ll be back.” The death blow to any hope you’d had that it was a training exercise or a weekend conference.

What if he was gone for another year? So much could happen. The baby would be walking. Talking. You’d be back to work by then. Trusting a stranger with her care because you didn’t have anyone else.

And who would he be when he returned? Always a little different than before.

“It’s okay. We’ll be okay. Just be safe, yeah?” You steeled your spine and tamped down on the tears that threatened behind your eyeIids.

You’d never cried for him before. Never worried about him.

No messy feelings. No expectations. Great sex and a pleasant company, right?

“I’ll say no. They can assign it to someone else.” Even as he said it out loud, you knew he wouldn’t let that happen.

“I had a plan, remember?” A reassuring smile to match the one he’d given you so many times before. “And you were never a part of it.”

He’d called you brave. You’d find out soon enough if he was right.

#call of duty #john price #captain price #price x reader #captain john price #cod fic #captain price x reader #john price x reader

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pombeom · 2 months

Text

deal? | beomgyu fic (nsfw)

nsfw content below! mdni!

this is my first ever smut fic so please don’t judge and let me know if there’s anything that needs improving! i’ve only ever written fluff before so i definitely need some practice but i hope you still to enjoy it!

warnings: dom!gyu x switch?reader, smut, fingering, blowjob, handjob, living room sex, best friends to lovers, teasing, nipple play?, dirty talk?, unprotected sex (DON’T), fluffy ending, (am i forgetting something?)

The spitting of the rain echoed through your apartment. Despite the weather this week consisting of warm, luscious sun, today the skies had different plans for both you and your best friend Beomgyu. You had planned on taking a trip to the beach and invited him over to join you on your endeavours to which Beomgyu was very much happy to tag along. The sudden shift in the weather, however, obstructed your journey and as a result you’re both sitting on the couch of your apartment scrolling through Netflix picking something to watch.

“How have you never watched Gossip Girl! Are you even from this planet?”

“Just because I have different tastes doesn’t mean I’m an alien,” Beomgyu shrugged, rolling his eyes.

“No but seriously. You’re missing out big time Beom.”

“Alright if you say so…If you really love it that much why don’t you put it on?”

“Seriously?? You’re letting me put in a show that I wanna watch…with no form of bribery?”

“Well I didn’t say that did I. Everything comes with a price angel.”

“What is it this time?”

“Be patient. You’ll find out soon enough,” his smirk was enough to tell you that he had something planned. Something so devious that it might end up with you staying home all week from embarrassment. Your mind flashed back to the time he made you flash your tits at one of your elderly neighbours and you could do nothing but just feel the burn on your face and hear his laugh from behind you. The relationship between you and your neighbour was never the same again even after the cookies you baked her as an apology gift. Obviously, you didn’t want to trust him again this time.

“Just promise me that it won’t involve my poor old neighbour again. I don’t think she could handle seeing my tits again,” you whined hoping that he’d pity you for last time’s ordeal.

“I promise angel. This time it’d be only you and me.”

And for some reason, you had a feeling that this time wouldn’t be any better than the last. In fact it’d probably be worst…

You shoved your doubts to the back of your mind and pressed play on the remote, starting Episode 1 of Gossip Girl as agreed upon by the both of you.

As the episode progressed, you felt Beomgyu shift closer to you. Whilst it was normal for him to be clingy, the aura in the atmosphere was tenser than usual. Even though his eyes were glued on the screen observing the drama unfolding, you could sense that his mind was elsewhere. Every so often you felt a stare lasering the side of your face and your cheeks burnt up as a physical reaction of your nervousness. You felt a sharp tingle land on your bare thigh and instantly you regretted wearing your itty bitty surfer shorts. Soon enough Beomgyu’s entire hand was squeezing your thighs, kneeling them between his slim, long fingers. Your mind ran through thoughts which were criminally outrageous for your liking but you couldn’t help but wonder how his fingers would feel in between your legs, collecting the pool of slick that had now formed.

And slowly but surely, his hands crept up closer and closer to your heat, barely scratching the fabric of your shorts and with the sudden contact, you let out a suppressed whimper. You finally turn your head to see Beomgyu smirking at your reaction, pride glimmering in his eyes. He continued to press against your pussy from outside your shorts gaining more sounds from you and subconsciously your hips started grinding against his palm.

“Are you that desperate angel?”

“Beom, please,” you mumble.

“Please, what? Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you”

“Please strip me and put those damn fingers in-“

Before you could even finish your sentence, you felt your shorts and underwear being ripped off and your pussy trembles in the contact of the cold surrounding air. He rubs your entrance gathering the slick and circles your clit sending sharp shivers up your spine. He picks up the pace and suddenly launches two fingers into your hole, pumping it in and it at the same speed.

“Beom, pl- please go fast… faster”

“Aww look at my angel stuttering. Are my fingers really doing that much to you?”

He quickens his pace going at an absurdly high rate making your collapse under his control. You were a moaning mess and your every cry was music to his ears. Your pussy clenches around his fingers and just as you were about to cum, he removes his fingers crashing you down from your almost high making you cry from pain and the urge for release.

“You’ll get your chance angel. But now I want you to please me. You think you can do that baby?”

You nod your head and slip onto the floor of the living room, positioning yourself in between Beomgyu’s legs which were spread wide open. You put down his joggers with his underwear, revealing his thick, hard cock which stand erect. He holds up his hoodie so you can grab onto his dick and you start by rubbing the base of his shaft, slowly making your way up to the pink tip. You bring your mouth closer to his cock and tease it by swirling your tongue around it. Beomgyu, being impatient, grabs your hair into a makeshift ponytail and shoves his cock into your throat taking you by surprise.

“I told you to please me, not tease me angel. Now suck.”

You follow his order and hollow your mouth feeling his fat cock deep in your throat. He takes control and fucks your mouth by rapidly pumping his suck into your mouth at a monstrous pace causing a pool of tears to well up in your eyes.

“You’re taking me so well angel. Can’t believe I didn’t think of this sooner.”

Your moans mixed with his grunts and whines echo through the room, replacing the sound of the rain and the TV. You feel his cock twitch and he pulls out taking away his own orgasm. You knew what was coming next and you were ready in every way. He picks you up from the ground and bends your over the arm of the sofa and positions himself behind you. He slaps his dick against your heat causing you to hitch your breath. Beomgyu places the tip in your slit and slams into your core, hitting your g-spot almost instantly. He continued to pound your pussy, not letting you adjust to his girthy size.

“Beom, it- it’s too big! Slow…slow down!” your words came out slewed.

“You can take it angel. Take my fat cock in your pretty pussy.”

He abused your hole repeatedly as his hand clenched around your waist whilst the other made its way under your baggy t-shirt and straight to your naked tits. You knew you should have worn a bra before he arrived.

He pinched your nipples sending shock waves straight to your brain, numbing every sense in your body apart from his touch, heightening every feeling he causes. Your pussy clenches again around his dick which only encourages him to move even faster.

“You’re clenching so hard right now angel. I think I’m gonna cum.”

“Ahh!” You screamed pleasure overflowing in your body. “I’m gonna cum too Beom.”

“Cum with me then angel. On the count of three.”

“3, 2, —“

Before he could get to 1, both of you crash as Beomgyu rides you through your post-orgasmic release. Your body is shaking under his, while he holds you from collapsing into the wooden floor.

“Beom- Beomgyu, that was so good.”

“Yeah? Well you were great angel. Your pussy was made for my dick.”

Your face turns red upon hearing his dirty compliment but your couldn’t help but agree at how well he fit in you.

“I have something to tell you,” Beomgyu begins.

“Go on,” you say now slouching back on the sofa whilst he wraps his arms around you.

“I’ve liked you for a really long time now and there’s not a day that goes by where I don’t think of holding you like this. So as a part of our deal, am I allowed to ask you if you would let me be your boyfriend?”

Your eyes widen at his confession and although you expected it after your little escapade together just moments ago, you felt a sense of shock but you were also pleasantly surprised.

“Beom, you know that you’re my bestest friend in the world. And if I’m being honest, I’ve never thought of you as more than that,” you pause, gaging his reaction. He’s still maintaining eye contact but the hope in his eyes have disappeared which you chuckle at finding it amusing.

“I’ve never thought of you as more than a friend. But ever since the moment you stepped in my apartment today, something felt different between us. I couldn’t quite place my finger on it until now but it’s taken me this long to realise the way I really feel about you. I also like you Choi Beomgyu and not just because you’ve given me the best fuck of my life but also because you light up my world. You’re so stupid sometimes because who would ever think of flashing an old lady like that but that’s what I love the most about you. So to answer your question, I would be honoured to have you as my boyfriend, only if you’d let me be your girlfriend.”

His response came in the form of plunging into your lips, exchanging years worth of feelings and passion.

He pushes his tongue in and before you have time to react, he picks you up bridal style and carries you over to your bedroom.

“Beom, what are you doing?” You ask pulling away from the kiss.

“You up for round 2, angel?”

#txt smut #beomgyu smut #beomgyu hard hours #beomgyu #txt #txt hard hours #best friends to lovers #first post

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