#once he gets over himself about it we definitely have nights where we just take turns playing ^w^ 💖💖💖💖💖
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cherry-bomb-ships ¡ 1 year ago
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One thing I've rly liked abt self inserting in PPG is that the time frame in my mind is 1999-2002 so when it comes to media my s/i engages with, I'm trying to keep that in mind and think about all the stuff that came out around that time that I love irl, so of course I'd be a fan of it back then too uwu
Look this is just my long winded prelude to saying that when the first Pikmin game drops in 2001, I would totally make Mojo a fan of it ehehehe 💖💖💖💖💖
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xavierfan ¡ 4 months ago
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more bre3ding/cr3amp1e p-links pls 🫣
warnings: sexual content below! p-links and sexually explicit descriptions are in this post
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i genuinely don't know what to say anymore but this is sylus. on everyone's soul, THIS IS SYLUS
this one too
this too
sylus likes to fuck his seed back into you himself, he does so quite softly. it's an extremely intimate act when he does it, he's gentle and slow, and it's really not about possession to him. he just likes it— the warmth, the slickness, the sound, and the lewdness of it all.
> heavy breeding kink with no hints of possessiveness, he straight up just wants you to have his kid idfk. he would definitely say stuff like, "you're going to make a wonderful mother to our kids." / "kitten, one day you're going to get pregnant and i'm going to be so lucky." / "fuck, kitten, you want me to fuck my cum back into you, right? you want me to get you pregnant, right?"
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idk why but this one gives me a caleb vibes
this one is also him
this one too
this too 😭😭😭
i keep adding caleb links im tweaking
caleb really enjoys watching his cum leak out of you. he would tease you, "pipsqueak, you're wasting it", as he just watches you squirm. to him, this is something akin to 'marking' you, walking up behind you later while out talking about, "think you're still leaky, pip."
> he's also probably got a crazy breeding kink mixed with a little —or a lot— bit of crazy obsession idfk, shit like "when your belly gets big, everyone's going to know who you belong to" / "one day i'm gonna get you pregnant" / "you'd look so good carrying my child, pips" / "if you let it all out, you'll hurt my feelings pips."
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i think rafayel kind of goes feral once you let him cum in you... like he just keeps going idk
teasing him
rafayel is less breeding kink more crazy about you. loves anything to do with you, sex is not an exception, and he puts you on a pedestal a little differently to the rest of the boys. a bit like a mutt, you let him cum in you and suddenly he can't stop rutting into you, trying to chase another high.
> less breeding kink, more pathetic subby male who is so fucking excited to be fucking you. "fuck. fuck. fuck. 'm gonna cum again, please? please let me keep going?" / "princess, you feel soo good, please." / "princess, i'm sorry, let's keep going..." / "i'll be so good for you, princess, let me keep going."
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sorry i know you specifically asked for breeding and i know this isn't but it still has cum ...
this is also zayne idk
zayne....
zayne rarely ever finishes inside of you, citing that it's not good for you, but that doesn't mean he doesn't want to. idk how to explain it, he doesn't let himself finish inside of you because he's worried he'll lose self control.
> heavily likes the idea of breeding, like it probably takes everything in his body to not ram into you as he feels his balls squeeze, probably in your ear talking about "you'd look so beautiful pregnant." / "want to start a family with you." / "one day i'm going to get you pregnant, no need to worry." / "if you keep asking me to cum in you, i just might one day..."
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i think xavier would like you fucking yourself with his cum... like shoving anything that comes out back inside
this one too
anotha one
xavier just wants to watch your fingers plug your hole up to prevent any more spillage. it brings a smile to his face to see how desperate you are to keep all of his seed inside of you, it probably gets him hard all over again prompting him to say something like, "don't worry, there's more where that came from."
> no specific breeding kink per say but likes the possessive element of pregnancy like caleb, "they'll know what we get up to at night." / "maybe when you're pregnant he'll stop coming up to you" / "want everyone to know how good you make me feel every night"
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notes : i couldnt find that many links 😭😭😭 i've been searching all day so i'm sorry anon... pls forgive me... i hope the little blurbs makeup for the lack of links :(
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apatheticsunday ¡ 3 months ago
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Manifesting Destiny
AKA "Danny knows about Bruce Wayne's little adoption habit, so he actively fights back by making digs at the older man's age. He doesn't realize he essentially adopted himself by calling Bruce 'grandpa'!" prompt idea!!
Okay, so 19-year-old Jazz moves to Gotham because Arkham has an psychiatrist internship that guarantees a job after graduation from Gotham-U. She takes a 12-13 year old Danny with because the "ghost attacks" (i.e., her parents are getting very obsessed with dissecting Phantom and it's genuinely worrying) are getting worse. Now Danny's in Gotham Prep... along with Damian Wayne.
They do not get along.
Damian stabs Danny with a pencil, Danny bites Damian so hard that he needs stitches, and the detentions only increase their bloodthirst because, "He started it!!" It comes to a head when Damian shoves Danny down the stairs (he wasn't really meaning to, he just pushed too hard), and Danny goes down hard. As in not-getting-back-up kind of hard. And Damian realizes he just killed a civilian. He's running through contingency plans, trying to figure out whether he can hide the body or if he should confess to Father, when the Fenton boy's broken neck... becomes un-broken?? And he sits up??
So, 13-year-old Damian makes a logical decision. Daniel Fenton is clearly his Arch Nemesis. He's undeniably a meta (perhaps with super-healing abilities?) so he can withstand Damian's too-enthusiastic violence. And Danny's like, this fucker just killed me. I'm going to beat his ass. Except Damian has a really high pain tolerance and is literally the heir to the League of Assassins. Long story short, Damian and Danny have "play dates" where they spend the entire time trying to kill/beat each other up. Jazz is just happy that Danny seems to have made a friend.
Bruce, on the other hand, takes one look at a scrawny, black-haired, blue-eyed kid who clearly has some childhood trauma, and mentally becomes Bat Dad. He tried to approach the subject once. Bruce carefully, tentatively asked, "Do you have a place to stay, son? We have plenty of rooms." To which Danny replied, "I'm not your son, I have a dad!! Why don't you go sit down before you break a hip, grandpa!!" (Tim choked on his tea, Damian nearly climbed across the table to strangle Danny, and Dick - who doesn't even live at the manor, he was just dropping off a case from Bludhaven PD - laughed so hard he cried.)
Except... Danny keeps coming over to the Wayne Manor (since Damian refuses to 'spar' at Jazz's one bedroom apartment, as it lacks a personal gymnasium). And Bruce is still kind, no matter how many times Danny makes fun of him for wearing bifocals or turtlenecks, or when he just straight up calls Bruce an old man. Plus, Damian's kind of mellowed out, too. He's teaching Danny actual sparring techniques, hand-to-hand combat, and explains different types of weapons/how to use them. Alfred brings the boys snacks. Occasionally Dick and Jason will visit for dinner, ruffling the boy's hair and joking about something or another. He's even introduced to Steph, Cass, and Barbara.
It dawns on Danny one evening, when Alfred is readying the car to take him back to his and Jazz's apartment. Bruce is scraping leftovers into a plastic container for Jazz to re-heat when he gets home and Danny's debating quietly with Damian about whether octopi are smarter than Superman. (Damian says yes, octopi are definitely smarter; he's seen Superman mutter to himself "lefty loosey, righty tighty" when trying to unscrew a water bottle cap.)
Then Bruce is handing Danny the leftovers, and Danny distractedly gives Bruce a side-hug, saying, "Thanks, grandpa."
Totally unironically. Danny's internal monologue is just what the fuck did I just say as Bruce slips him a $20 ("For a treat on the way home.") and escorts him to the front door. He thinks about it as Alfred drives him home. Thinks about it when he and Jazz curl up to watch a movie that night. Danny belatedly realizes that he's been unintentionally thinking of Bruce "Serial Adopter" Wayne as his grandfather??? For months now?? How could this happen??
Back at the Wayne Manor, Bruce is still in the kitchen, listening to Damian continue to debate Superman's intelligence while Tim scrolls on his work tablet. He'll probably take the kids, including the newest edition to the family, to the zoo this weekend.
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vinnyvamppp ¡ 1 month ago
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Two and a Half Graysons
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Note: Trust and believe I'm using that horny ass line you ended with as a plot device too. LMFAO. @hhoneylemon
Synopsis: You're not officially a parent, but you might as well be. You're not officially married, but everyone seems to think you are. Between shirtless mornings, grocery store tension, and baby carrier missions, the line between “dating Mark” and “co-raising a purple alien infant with Mark” gets blurrier by the day. But it’s fine. You’re emotionally stable. Probably.
Warnings: Mild Sexual Tension (NO SMUT), Coping With Parenthood, Mild Swearing, Off-screen Canon-level Violence, Found Family & Co-parenting, fluff galour. (Original Request Link: https://www.tumblr.com/vinnyvamppp/783842276548952064/i-have-a-vision-ive-been-thinking-about-when) PART 2 HERE
Mark Grayson (+ Baby Oliver!) x GN!Reader
WC: 1.2k (so cute)
Mark doesn’t ask you to move in. He just starts making space, a shelf here, a drawer cleared there. By the time Oliver starts teething, you’re already brushing your teeth in his bathroom every morning and waking up with a foot in your ribs that definitely doesn’t belong to Mark.
You weren’t expecting him to drop out. No one was. Debbie had offered to help, of course—offered like it was the easiest thing in the world to raise a baby that wasn’t hers, born from a man who had already broken the whole family once. And Mark had just said: “I can’t ask her to do this. He’s my responsibility, my… brother.”
Then he’d looked at you. Like he was bracing for something. For the inevitable pulling away. The “I’m not ready for this” talk. But you’d just nodded. Said: “Okay. We’ll figure it out.” We. His shoulder slumped with a sigh of relief. And that’s how it starts.
It’s not glamorous. Mark’s working two jobs between diaper runs. You’re picking up shifts, catching Oliver when he won’t stop crying, and Mark looks like he hasn’t slept in a week. Some nights, the exhaustion settles over the house like fog, thick and still. Then there’s moments where Oliver laughs or falls asleep on your chest like he knows exactly where he belongs. And everything feels lighter—softer, just right.
Mark negotiated with Cecil… Kind of—out of desperation, moreover. After bringing Oliver back, Mark tried to keep up with college, parenting, and being Earth's part-time savior. It lasted about two weeks. He was late to a Kaiju fight because Oliver had a fever. Left a lab evacuation halfway through to pick him up from your job because the sitter bailed. Cecil nearly had a stroke when Mark fought a teleporting assassin with baby wipes in his pocket.
“I can’t do this full-time. He’s a baby. He’s my responsibility. I’m not leaving him with my mom again and I’m not dragging him into a war zone unless the world’s literally ending.”
Cecil—being a professional manipulator and also somehow slightly terrified of Oliver’s explosive bowel habits, reluctantly agreed. Now, Mark handles non-lethal, low-stakes missions like alien negotiations and minor emergencies.
He takes himself off the active-duty roster unless it’s a Level Red situation, and Cecil sends backup or Eve when something big hits. Mark still trains—still reports in, but often while bouncing a baby on his chest or feeding him yogurt off-camera. So what happens day to day? He flashes by your job to drop off Oliver. Literally, he’ll appear mid-conversation, hair a mess, onesie on backward.
“Hey babe, sorry—can you watch him for like two hours? There's a tidal wave hitting France. Be back by lunch. Probably.” Kisses you mid-chaos, and vanishes in a loud boom. Sometimes he leaves you with a half-full bottle and a sticky pacifier and expects you to just vibe.
If that isn't an option, he wears a baby carrier during missions. Look, not for the big ones. But if the threat is “giant sewer rat” or “angry alien ambassador who doesn’t understand doors,” Oliver is strapped to his chest like a tiny judgmental but giggly backpack with earmuffs. You even designed him a superhero onesie that says, "Invinci-baby," and yes—he wears it at every outing.
“You’re bringing a baby?”
“He likes the wind.”
“He’s drooling on your comm.”
“He’s observing diplomacy.”
Cecil threatens to fire him weekly. Debbie sighs deeply every time she sees the footage on GDA security—just to check in when needing Cecil to make sense of this. All the while watching Doc Seismic scream “IS THAT A CHILD?!” mid-monologue. Today, you didn’t realize how dangerous this grocery trip is going to be until Mark lifts the baby carrier with one arm like it’s nothing. He’s Invincible—what did you expect? His gray t-shirt rides up just enough to make your soul flicker out of your body like a dying TV screen. Focus on the produce section. Innocent terrain, right? You grab a head of lettuce. You do not look at the way Mark bounces Oliver gently while scanning for cereal. You are a good person, a person with restraint. He’s doing that thing again—being effortlessly domestic. Like, hot dad energy turned up to eleven. Every time he reads a nutrition label or wipes drool off Oliver’s chin, your brain short-circuits a little more.
You used to flirt shamelessly. Make out in supply closets, pull him into his room by the collar. But now? Now you’re in aisle six, arguing about formula brands, and trying not to climb him in front of a shelf of canned peas.
“I think we should get the oatmeal-based one,” Mark says, turning towards you. And there it is: that low voice, as he leaned in slightly. The focus with that soft-eyed, fully attentive attitude. You blink at him, trying to play it cool as you bite your tongue. “Whatever keeps his poop neutral. I'm not reliving last week.” Mark gave a crooked grin, brow raised, his shoulder hitching, “The explosion?”
“Don’t—” you groan, covering Oliver’s ear. “Don’t traumatize him again. We had to hose down the high chair, Mark.” A grin tugged at the corners of your lips. He laughs under his breath and sets the formula in the cart. You watch the muscles in his forearm flex as he pushes it forward. You’re sweating now—It’s winter. “Why do you look tense?” he asks. You gesture around helplessly. “Because this is basically foreplay, and there’s a baby in the cart.”
Mark chokes on a laugh, reaching instinctively to cover Oliver’s ears. “You can’t say stuff like that while I’m holding our son.” You freeze. “Our son?” His eyes widen a little. The cart keeps rolling. The baby stares up at the ceiling fan, utterly indifferent to the life-changing moment. “…I mean,” Mark starts, fumbling now, “he’s not yours, but like—well, he kind of—”
“Mark.” You step in close, dropping your voice. “If you keep talking in that voice and calling him our son, I swear to God, I will embarrass us in this store.” Mark’s eyes flick to your mouth, then back to Oliver. His jaw flexes with blotches of pink creeping up his neck. “I hate that we can’t do anything about this.” You both stare at each other for a second too long. Then Oliver lets out a dramatic sneeze that breaks the tension like a rock through a window. You sigh. “We’re in hell.” Mark leans over and kisses your temple. “At least we’re in hell together.” You glance at the shopping list and mutter, “Add wine.” He stares at you in bewildered silence— “For Ms. Grayson.”
You find yourself thinking about stupid things. Like the taste of oatmeal lingering on your tongue. Like whether you’ll need a bigger place. Like whose last name Oliver will have. Like if Mark knows he hums when he’s rocking the baby to sleep, tuneless and low, and how your whole chest aches every time you hear it. You’d marry him. That thought hits you while Mark is on the floor of the living room, one sock on, hair a mess, cooing nonsense while Oliver grabs at his nose. You’d marry him tomorrow. Or bend him or let him bend you over the desk right now. Whichever happens first.
You’ve seen this man explode aliens. Why is him wearing low-slung sweatpants more threatening to your mental health than intergalactic war? But you don’t tell him that. You just hand him the bottle, brush your fingers against his, and whisper, “You’re doing okay.” Mark looks up at you—tired and worn down, but smiling. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” A/N: Literally kicking my feet as I write this, I will forever love your big, beautiful brain. Hopefully, this was decent, my friend. :)
Part 2: Our Son, Apparently
MasterList ོ༘₊⁺☀︎₊⁺⋆.˚
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pinkponytrash ¡ 1 year ago
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⋅˚₊‧ secretly dating TXT ‧₊˚ ⋅
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3.2k words. headcannon. boyfriend!txt x fem!reader, nondescriptive smut scenes. light jealousy. friends to lovers. mentions of phone sex, mutual masturbation, oral sex, riding
ᯓ★ YEONJUN
He’s real cheeky about it, always has a little smirk on his face when you step into the room and he’s so sure no one knows what’s going on but he’s also so obvious about it. Even if they don’t think you’re dating, they definitely think there’s feelings there.
Yeonjun is always the type to try and impress you too, has to show off how good he is at things and makes sure you’re watching when he does.
Anytime you go out with them, he’s going to make sure you’re by him or if you split off into groups he’s going to be with you. Every now and then he tries to hold your hand and has to remind himself to chill out until he sees Beomgyu or someone take your attention then suddenly he’s snatching you away with some excuse.
“We’re gonna go get drinks,” Yeonjun says as he practically drags you away from Kai who had been trying to take a selfie with you, “Who wants something?”
“I’ll come wi—“
“We don’t need everyone, the line’s already long,” he argues, making sure to pull you behind him, “We’ll be quick.”
“Could you make it any more obvious?” You ask him once the two of you are far enough from the others. He smirked, interlacing your fingers together, “I can if you want me too.”
If it isn’t obvious yet, Yeonjun is not good at keeping it a secret. He is confident in his ability to keep it on the low until he gets in too good of a mood, then all he wants to do is put his hands on you.
Especially when you go out for drinks and you’re wearing one of his favorite outfits dancing to some song you like and swaying your hips with just the right amount of rhythm that he feels hypnotized.
Usually, he’ll have to distract himself talking with the others but after one too many drinks, he’ll make his way toward you and push away whoever you’re dancing with so you can focus on him and him alone, hands playfully tracing the curve of your hips, sliding under the hem of your shirt and smirking when you push his hand away.
By the time you call it a night, it’s hard to keep your boyfriend off you and you end up barely making it past the door of your apartment when he’s already pushing you up against the wall with his mouth on yours.
He likes taking his time with you, he swears, but something he gets a little too eager. It’s difficult ‘keeping it a secret’ and sometimes all he wants to do is get down on his knees and show you how much he appreciates you.
He has one of your legs thrown over his shoulders, teasing your inner thighs with soft bites that make your breath hitch.
“Don’t be a tease,” you tried to sound playful but it was hard when you felt breathless from the way he pinched your thighs, getting closer and closer to where you needed him the most.
“Oh, like how you weren’t being a tease in front of everyone?” He asked, kissing your clit softly, earning a light moan to fall from your lips.
“Not on purpose,” you sighed, head back against the wall as you closed your eyes to soak in the feeling of his tongue between your wet folds. Yeonjun knew exactly what to do with your body. Maybe it’s because you started off as friends, learned everything it was about each other that when it came to getting intimate, it didn’t take long for him to know what to do to make you moan his name.
And he loved the sound of your voice when you moaned for him so lovingly. His tongue does wonders between your legs and when paired with his long fingers, you can’t help but let yourself fall for him harder every time.
ᯓ★ SOOBIN
Nervous boyf to the core. We know he likes to joke around with TXT and technically speaking you are their friend but when you start dating Soobin…
Oh it’s like a schoolboy crush he’s got to hide. He used to be just as playful with you as before but now he’s scared to get too close because what if he kisses you? Oh my goodness, how would he hold himself back if he gets too close?
Sometimes when you’re around everyone he’ll sit down next to you and spread his legs a little further so that nobody else can squeeze in between you and he’ll make sure that his leg touches yours. If he’s feeling extra bold he might put his hand on your thigh, squeeze it a little and try to cover up his teasing by doing the same to Taehyun or Kai under pretense of joking around.
But let’s not forget about jealous boyfriend Soobin.
“No, Y/n, this is a serious question,” Yeonjun reached for your hand and gave it a tight squeeze, “Who do you think is hotter? Me or Soobin.”
You made the mistake of jokingly saying, ‘You’ thinking Soobin would obviously know you’re only saying it to make Yeonjun feel better but boy were you wrong.
He was upset, visibly upset to the point that when you looked over at him, he would give you a side eye and look away. Everyone noticed it too and found it damn near comical that he was so bothered by it but of course they didn’t know why. He didn’t even talk to you about it till later that night.
“I was joking, Binnie,” you clung to him from behind, “Of course I think you’re so much better looking than anyone but if I said you, everyone would think somethings up. They already think I favorite yo—“
“As you should! I’m your boyfriend, you should favorite me,” He would argue with a cute pout.
He's never an angry type of jealous, usually he gets pouty and thinks about it for days which in turn leaves you wanting to prove to him how much you prefer him over anyone else.
“Jagi,” Soobin had to bite down on his bottom lip to keep his voice down but it was getting hard—well, he was, “Everyone is w-waiting for us.”
“So?” You asked, kissing down his chest as you pushed his shirt up and without being told to, he held it up with the hem between his teeth. He even lifted his hips to help you pull his jeans down, “I’ve missed you.”
Your hand teased his growing bulge, palming his erection over his briefs as you got more comfortable in the backseat of his car. The parking garage was dark and almost empty but he still looked out the windows nervously.
You were supposed to be meeting your friends for a game night and he had told them all he was going to pick you up since you were ‘on the way’ to the dorms, but in reality he needed a little more time with you alone. He just didn’t think that meant you’d ask him to meet you in the backseat so you could show him how much you missed him with your lips around his cock.
And what was he supposed to do when they texted him asking where you were? Was he supposed to tell them that he was moaning your name while hiding down in the parking garage? His hands in your hair, head thrown back with pleasure and abs tightening every time he took a deep breath.
“So good,” he sighed blissfully, eyes threatening to fall shut when your tongue traced the vein that traveled down his length, “Don’t wanna go see them anymore.”
“We have to,” you released him from your mouth, stroking him teasingly, “Or else they’ll get suspicious.”
And by the time you made it upstairs, Soobin couldn’t bother to care about the complaints from everyone about your tardiness. Not when it was taking everything in him not to just pull you into his lap and kiss you for everyone to see.
ᯓ★ BEOMGYU
He’s probably the only member who’s actually good at hiding the fact that he’s dating you.
He jokes with you the same way he jokes with everyone else so no one would ever know that when he touches you under the table, he likes to tease too.
They don’t know that when he says he’s going to play an arcade and sneaks away from the dorm, he’s actually going over to your place when no one’s around and hanging out with you.
In all honesty, he’s probably the best ‘friends to lovers’ of them all. You’re his best friend and have been for a while so when the two of you started dating, it just became like an added perk.
Not only does he get to game with you and crack jokes but now he gets to kiss you and make you feel good too.
It’s great, seriously, and the only downside to it is how serious he comes off to you. Sometimes you struggle to remember he's more than just a friend and sometimes he forgets to remember he doesn’t like it when the others get too close to you.
It’s only okay when he gets close to you, not Soobin, Beomgyu, Taehyun or even Kai. He’s made it clear he’s your ‘best friend’ so yes, he does feel like he has a right to get jealous sometimes.
“What does it matter, Gyu? You got up so I took your seat,” Kai laughed, making himself comfortable next to you on the couch, “The movies about to start just sit next to Jun.”
“But I was sitting there first,” Beomgyu practically stomped his foot in a tantrum, “I went to make Y/n and I popcorn, how are we supposed to share if you took my seat?”
Meaning: how am I supposed to cuddle with Y/n under the blanket if you’re in the way?
“Kai, don’t be mean, he was sitting there first,” you laughed, glancing over at Beomgyu who was pouting now, “Maybe you guys should ‘Paper, Rock, Scissors’ this and the winner gets to sit next to me.”
You gave them both a cheeky smile which made Kai roll his eyes and cringe, “Ew, I don’t want to sit next to you anymore.”
“Then move,” Beomgyu said, already forcing himself down next to you and pushing Kai out the way.
Even when the two of you are all alone and you get too touchy, it’s always playful. There’s always giggles here and there and jokes that make you both stop and laugh.
And after a while he gets lazy with his excuses. He stays out later and when he doesn’t make it home some nights, everyone knows by this time that he’s probably just hanging out with you.
“I’m going to the arcade.”
“With Y/n?”
“No, by myself.”
“Right, I thought you’d be with your best friend tonight.”
It’s only when neither of you answer the phone that the rumors start circulating.
“Oh my god, just ignore it,” Beomgyu groaned as your phone rang for the third time. Soobin and Kai were blowing up your phone after you promised to play them online tonight. Meanwhile you’re naked in bed with your boyfriend who just looks so pretty under you.
He even knew you were supposed to be gaming and that’s why he came over to keep your attention from drifting to anyone but him.
“So greedy, all the time,” you moaned softly, raising your hips against his member and sinking back down to feel the way he stretched your walls for you, “Always want my attention. I thought you wanted to keep it a secret.”
“I do,” he nearly whimpered, fingers digging into your thighs with pleasure, “But it’s hard.”
ᯓ★ TAEHYUN
He’s even worse at hiding it than Yeonjun. He’s just too clingy and he can’t really hide that even around the other members. He’s already touchy with the others but when it comes to his girlfriend? Boy, oh boy.
He likes to touch your thigh under the table or trace your spine whenever you stand in front of him and no one’s looking. When you run your fingers through his hair while watching a movie, he tends to get a little lost in the feeling and starts to doze off with his head practically on your lap.
The others ignore it for the most part but every now and then Kai will try to make a comment about his touchiness toward you and suddenly Taehyun has to act out.
One time the two of you almost got caught getting a little too close while at the bar and he literally pushed you off him before Yeonjun could see you try and kiss him. He ended up paying for that in the end.
“Jagi, just one kiss,” Taehyun begged later that night when you rejected his second attempt since you got back to your place. You weren’t actually mad at him but he liked messing with you so what was wrong with it’s you doing it back?
“Well I tried to give you a kiss earlier and you pushed me away, remember?” You asked, hiding your smirk and turning your back to him. Taehyun didn’t like that at all, and practically pounced on your bed to hold you.
“But I want it now.”
Hes a jealous guy too, a quiet, introverted jealous guy. He won’t say anything but there’ll be signs. He’ll keep his eyes on you and whoever you’re with and have no shame about it.
One time you asked Soobin to help you reach something instead of Taehyun and he couldn’t hide how annoyed he was by it. He even went as far as mocking you for it later that night.
Whenever you’re more distracted by your phone than him, he’s always gotta try and get your attention back on him.
Usually, if you’re alone, it’s with little touches here and there.
He likes playfully pulling at your shirt to bring you closer to him, smile on his face when you whine at being exposed.
You’ll try and escape his affection but you always end up giving in and you end up making out on your couch when you’re finally alone.
He’s handsy too, he loves the way you feel under his fingertips especially when your skirts rolled up and he’s gotten your panties off.
“So soft,” he always reminds you when he traces a finger along your clit, massaging into it with some of your slick. He’s always gentle when he touches you, always kisses down your sides and aims to please you first.
“Mhm,” you moan lightly, hand brushing his soft hair back so you could see his big boba eyes look up at you while he kisses your navel. They distract you from his hand until you feel his middle finger tease your entrance.
“It’s so hard to keep my hands off you,” he always makes sure to remind you when he’s making you feel good with those hands. He’s never shy when it comes to touching you either, always knows just when to curl his fingers or rub your clit while he does it. When he can tell you’re close, he likes to kiss you, swallow your moans and feel your tighten around his fingers.
ᯓ★ KAI
He thought it would be easy at first but he quickly realized how wrong he was.
In the beginning, he did his best to treat you like a friend and nothing else. He would talk to you like he talks to the other members and he wouldn’t make a scene whenever you talked too long to someone else.
He would only get nervous when you would look at him for too long, or wink at him, talk about how he’s your favorite or sit close to him.
And you loved to get him riled up when no one’s looking.
You’re the one to usually initiate something, like when you casually trace your fingers through his hair.
How is he supposed to act unbothered by it?
When you’re out with them all and someone tries hitting on you, and you have to quietly explain that you’re kind of seeing someone which leads the others to ask who, how is Kai not supposed to shout out that it’s him?
How’s he supposed to just join in with the interrogation and act like he doesn’t know anything either?
“Wait, have we met him?” Yeonjun asks you and none of them seem to notice how you look over at Kai and smile so innocently while he’s sweating billets.
“I don’t kiss and tell,” you always say, half laughing at how annoyed they all look and Kai has to pretend to be just as annoyed when in reality he wants to smile too.
“I don’t think we’ll ever know,” he’ll try and pipe in, trying not to smirk and when they’re not looking at him, he winks at you and enjoys the little secret you share.
To be honest, you’re the one who fell for him first.
For some reason his cringey jokes and over the top laugh really pulled you in and when you made the move on him, he hadn’t known what to think.
For the longest he thought of you as a friend so the night you were on video call playing a game together and you were laying on your bed, barely covered by the blanket�� he kept getting distracted.
Then you would say something flirty while shifting around and showing the little shorts you wore to sleep and how they barely covered anything, along with your tank top. He would remind himself that you’re just a friend and he’s probably reading too into it
So everything was on the low to begin with. None of the others knew how the two of you would spend almost every night on the phone together and Kai could tell them but why would he? So that they could think they could call you too and take your attention away?
Plus, did he really want them to know about how you looked fresh out the shower on the phone with him? Or how you sounded when you whispered softly with your hand down your panties asking if he’s touching himself too?
And it was known Kai had such a nice voice that you couldn’t help but encourage him to let you hear it when he stroked his stiff member in his bedroom late at night.
“I can’t hear you,” you would remind him, hand touching down your body and showing the camera what he can’t see in person.
“They’re going to hear me,” he whispers, letting out a small moan when you pull down your top and tease him with a view of your bare chest.
“Everyone’s asleep,” you say, “Please? It’s not fair, I don’t ever get to see you alone.”
Your words always got to him, and he would stroke himself just a little faster and whisper, “I want to see you too.”
::.
I’ve been gone for months and I needed something kind of quick and easy to write so hope you guys liked it 😭should I do more of these?
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kaneaken ¡ 7 months ago
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author's note; bringing forth my soft capitano agenda with a short drabble
content notes; gn!reader, established relationship (married), you adopt ororon for a bit, mention of having children (as in raising them together), slight hurt/comfort, slight spoilers about capitano's origins
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When you hear your husband's been injured in an altercation with the Pyro Archon, you were rushing out of the Fatui camp immediately. Multiple Fatui soldiers chase after you, telling you to return to camp.
"Lord Capitano will have our head if their partner gets injured! Move!" You hear one of the soldiers call out to their comrades. You ignore them. The only thing on your mind is to make sure your husband is alright. You know he's strong, stronger than you know, but it doesn't ease your stress.
In your focused state, you don't notice the man you're worried about approaching. You bump into his chest, almost tumbling over if not for him catching you by the shoulders.
"What are you doing outside of the camp, beloved?" He asks, looking down at you. You don't answer, your hands quickly moving about in search of his wounds.
"I heard what happened. Are you okay? Does it hurt? Where did you get hit?" You sputter out your questions, not bothering to let him answer.
"Excuse me..." A voice interrupts, causing you to turn your head. You make eye contact with a dark-haired male. He definitely wasn't a Fatui soldier, but his clothing reminded you of the locals.
"Who is this?" You ask, turning back to Capitano.
"A child from the Masters of the Night Wind. He assisted with my escape," Capitano answers. He readjusts his hand, leading you back to the camp with his hand on your back.
The male walks beside the two of you, interjecting whenever needed to explain himself.
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Ororon is his name. You learn much about him as he spends time at the Fatui encampment. Whenever your husband is out, you find yourself making small talk with Ororon.
You learn about his garden. You smile when he promises to bring you some of his vegetables. He tells you about his family back home. He tells you that his granny will be especially furious with him when he returns home. You wonder what kind of woman his granny is.
As the days go by, you realize Ororon is a very sweet, young boy. You find yourself worrying about him more. When he goes out to search for herbs, you secretly tell the soldiers accompanying him to keep a very close watch of him. You always offer him an extra serving of food despite your husband's insistence that he's eaten enough.
"You're overfeeding him, beloved."
"It's better than underfeeding!"
When Ororon returns home for the first time, your husband notices your faltered state.
"You spoiled that child as if he was your own. I fear you have become too attached, beloved," Captiano remarks as he takes a seat next to you.
"Ah, I suppose so..." You admit. You chuckle soflty, resting your head on his shoulder. "We don't have any of our own, so I suppose I was just projecting."
"Children..."
"It's a silly dream of mine. Don't worry."
Capitano shakes his head. "It isn't silly at all. I suppose... I never believed you'd want children, especially with a man such as I."
That shocks you. You lift your head, facing him. "Why wouldn't I? There isn't anyone else I'd rather have children with."
You understand his hesitating. The curse he bears makes the future he once dreamed of almost impossible. You don't want him to believe that. He deserves a future as much as any other person.
"You'd be a wonderful father," You reassure, placing your head on his shoulder once again.
"You truly believe that?"
"I do."
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sakkiichi ¡ 2 years ago
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COVER ME IN SUNSHINE.
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Ways in which your kid calls his dad. Will he get to hear a ‘papa’?
ft. Scaramouche/Wanderer, Albedo, Xiao, Childe, Kaeya, Neuvillette x gn! reader.
cw/genre: pure fluff. Reader is referred to as ‘mama’, you and the character have a child. They’re all girl dads.
a birthday present for my dearest @bunny-rambles 🩵 i’m wishing you the best day today and always, hun ! ilysm, thank you for always being by my side. I hope we can celebrate many many more birthdays together, mwah <3
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ note: about this fic… i struggled quite a little with it, and i’m sorry it’s not my best piece… this was a totally new concept to write for me, but i still hope you can enjoy, bunbun, dear ♡
if you enjoy this, reblogs and comments help more than likes !
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✧ SCARAMOUCHE
Wide indigo orbs meet his furrowed gaze.
Scaramouche is not amused.
Or at least that’s what he wants whoever sees him right now to believe. Namely, you.
Tiny hands cup the Wanderer’s cheeks, big eyes, so similar to his, staring up at him in wonder. The little girl in his arms squeezes his face, a pout forming on her father’s lips. Giggles erupt from her smiling lips, the corners of Scaramouche’s mouth unconsciously tilting upwards.
“You’re amused, huh?” Your husband asks, rocking the baby in his hold. She stares at him, her little arms flailing upward, giggling happily.
“Moochie!” She babbles, trying to stand on the wanderer’s knees, her hands reaching for his hat.
“Hey, hey, now!” Kunikuzushi pouts, securing his hat. “That is not a toy and I’m not Moochie…”
“Moochie!” His daughter repeats, poking his cheek.
He sighs.
“Not Moochie…” Scaramouche’s ears take on a rather rosy tone, especially when your giggles are not exactly inconspicuous, your attempt at keeping hidden just outside the living room, obviously half-assed.
“Pa-pa. Not Moochie.” He repeats, bopping his little one’s nose. “And here, play with this.” He offers, handing his baby a doll curiously identical to himself.
Your eyes soften from your spot when you observe the fond smile on your lover’s face. He might feign annoyance, but when it came to your baby, all the facade was scattered to the winds. Storm clouds and lightning seemed so far away when he was surrounded by the blue skies and birdsong that dawned with your daughter’s hand grabbing his finger.
“Pa..” The little one begins, lifting the doll, as if indicating that it indeed represents her father.
“Pa…” Your wanderer prompts, as he points to the cloth mini version of himself.
Then, the girl’s eyes focus somewhere beyond her dad, tiny hands wiggling and waving, the plush doll still in her grasp.
“Mama!” She exclaims, making to reach for you, trying to climb over the sofa’s backrest, where it not for your partner’s protective hold.
Finally stepping out from your hideout, you walk towards them.
Familiar warm arms wrap around the no longer broken puppet, as your precious baby rests between your two heartbeats. Yours, steady, undeniably human. His, bloomed anew, thanks to you; with a newfound tune, sweeter, gentler, thanks to his little one.
Scaramouche closes his eyes, lashes of now starlit midnights resting on his perfect cheekbones. His head leans on your shoulder, your lips feather-light on his dusky hair, as your hands gently lift his hat a bit.
Your girl grabs one of her father’s fingers once more, the handmade mini wanderer kept close to her chest.
Yes, storms were definitely over for days to come.
✧ ALBEDO
A tug on the leg of his pants and familiar unintelligible noises pull the alchemist out of his task.
Albedo’s features soften when he spots the cause of his distraction.
Putting the notebook he was currently scribbling on aside, he crouches down.
“And who do we have here?” The chalk prince asks, smoothing the golden locks on his baby’s small head.
“Mama?” She replies, her tiny hand pulling on her dad’s clothes.
The gesture is followed by one of Albedo’s gentle chuckles, eyes like northern stars on clear nights bright at the sight of his daughter.
“Mama’s not here now, little princess.” He explains, as he picks the baby up. “They will get home soon, though.” Your child stares at him as if unsatisfied with the answer, head slightly tilted to the side. “How about we have some fun in the meantime?”
Giggles that always reminded Albedo of sunshine days at dragonspine are the answer that follows.
Taking his little one’s two hands in his, the chief alchemist helps his daughter take a few trembling steps, the baby happily padding on the wooden floor.
“There we go, princess!” Your lover chuckles, sitting the girl securely on the beige couch. Teal eyes flecked in emerald follow your partner’s movements, as he rummages through your living room’s drawers.
A few seconds later, more incomprehensible joyful babbles follow, when he sits by your daughter’s side, his hands expertely setting the supplies he retrieved on the low table. She stares at him intently, her gaze drawn to the vibrant crayons cluttering the tabletop’s surface.
“What should we draw today, my princess?” Are Albedo’s words, as he hands his child a light blue pencil, its tip dulled so she can’t hurt herself.
“Snow!” She exclaims, her tiny feet kicking back and forth in excitement, eliciting chuckles from her dad.
“You want to paint snow, my little cecilia?” He asks, combing through her blonde strands. “Alright, how about we paint you, mama and papa building a snowman?”
“Yay!” Your baby reaches for the blank paper, wonder and excitement written all over her rounded features, her tongue sticking out the corner of her small mouth. She always loved to draw and paint, especially when it was with Albedo. And even if her pictures often ended up turning out as just criss-crossing lines or messy splotches, you and your husband always kept every single one of them, displayed as priceless masterpieces on the fridge’s door, the living room walls or your study.
After a few minutes of focused work, three figures start taking form over a background of messily drawn blue snowflakes.
“Look, dearie.” Albedo calls. “Who are these?”
His girl looks up at him, a huge smile on her face as she bites the pencil.
“Mama! Me! And Papa!” She answers proudly, pointing at each of the figures.
Albedo’s eyes widen, gilded sparks reflected in the cloudless skies of his irises at his daughter’s words.
Those last two syllables.
His own pencil falls out of his grasp, clattering to the carpeted floor. In this moment, nothing else exists, save for the jingling echo of his daughter’s angelic tone.
“Papa?” She asks, tugging on his sleeve.
Albedo picks the little girl up, rising her as she laughs, unaware.
“Can you say it again, little princess? ‘Papa’.”
“Papa! Papa!” Giggles leave her throat.
Softly, Albedo places a kiss on her kid’s forehead, hugging her as the both of them lay down on the sofa.
When you got home, silence greets you, broken only by even breaths. Smiling to yourself, you brush a kiss against your husband’s and your daughter’s hair, a new painting adorning the walls after you gently throw a blanket over the sleeping figures of your two treasures.
✧ XIAO
“Do you want to hold her, Xiao? She’s been looking at you for a while.” You chuckle, your gaze softened when it sets upon your yaksha.
Golden eyes, not unlike the child’s currently on your arms, shadow in fear and shame for a moment.
What if he hurts the baby? What if his karma taints her somehow? What if-
“Xiao.” Your hand finds his gloved one, centuries of bloodshed written in the concealed scars. “She’ll be okay.” You reassure, a gentle squeeze, as your fingers slot between his.
The adeptus glances in his daughter’s direction, her round amber eyes curiously observing him.
Your husband’s jaw sets, his lips drawn in a taut line. If someone were to look at him now, they may think he’s sulking, the furrow of his brow apparently an indication to steer clear.
You, however, know better.
“Here, I’m with you, love.” You softly utter, placing your daughter in her father’s arms.
The baby stares up at her dad in awe, her little hands fiddling with the necklace he always wears.
She’s so small… such a pure and precious being… will she be safe with him?
Just as these thoughts plague his mind, the girl curls up in his embrace, nuzzling against his toned torso.
“See? She adores you, Xiao…” You tell him, knuckles brushing against your baby’s soft full cheek. “Isn’t that right, sweetie?” She turns around, a smile drawing on her lips, as she buries herself further into Xiao, whose cheeks have gone as red as the carmine lining his eyes.
“H-hello, little qingxin…” Xiao greets her, awkwardly rubbing her back.
In response, his baby tilts her head slightly backwards, the molten suns in her stare illuminating her father’s rusted gold gaze.
“Papa!” She goes, a little clumsy, it sounding more like ‘dada’.
The vigilant yaksha’s eyes widen, his heart feeling like a million bright lanterns floating towards a starry sky.
“Xiao! She said ‘papa’! See? She loves you!” You excitedly chant, hugging your husband’s waist, as you pepper kisses all over his face. “You are her first word, dear, our baby adores her dad so much. I knew she would!” A smile tugs at your lips, lids fluttering closed as you rest your cheek on Xiao’s shoulder.
His hands hover around his daughter, his hold on her delicate, as if she was a newly bloomed flower whose petals could vanish if the wind blew too strongly.
“Papa…” The girl repeats, her chubby cheek squished against’s Xiao’s form. Her eyes are droopy, a little yawn escaping her as she settles more comfortably in her father’s embrace.
Your adeptus heaves out a sigh of relief, the warmth of a familiar fireplace swarming all around him, as if candid candle flames were running through his veins when the soft snores of his daughter reach his ears.
The conqueror of demons’ mask would be shed for tonight.
✧ CHILDE
Small hands are glued to the window’s glass panes, a pair of bright blue eyes staring awestruck at the image currently taking place in your garden.
Flashes of crystalline cyan flit across the air as Childe wields his double blades, merging them into a spear, his muscles taut at the effort.
The little girl’s tiny hands curl into fists, as she leans forward in anticipation, marine gaze following her father’s movements.
He reminds her of the illustrations she’s seen in the picture books Teucer has shown her before.
She must get closer.
Looking over her shoulder, your daughter makes sure you’re busy with something in the kitchen.
Her plan can be put into action now.
Crawling towards the door on all fours, she realizes she’s nowhere near tall enough to reach the handle.
Oh, but she takes after you, and will not be deterred by something like this.
Silently, the baby makes her way towards the dog you took in. He’s big and fluffy and very peaceful, often keeping company to the little girl. With a gentle pat to his side, she looks up at him with those big blue eyes and, despite his instinct to keep her safe, the puppy obliges to her demand.
Folding his paws, the animal lowers himself to the ground, allowing your daugher to climb. A vivid spark flashes through her ocean eyes, tiny hands securing on her companion’s fur.
And just as she was about to reach the door opening to the garden, a familiar voice that’s lulled her to sleep many a night stops her in her tracks.
“And just what do you think you’re doing, little lady.” You stand a couple feet away from her, hands on your hips, your concern masked with masterfully feigned anger.
Your baby stares up at you, that oceanic gaze puppy-like, much like her father did when you were mad at him.
“Mama…” She mumbles, her little hands signaling to where Childe is training outside, sounds you can’t understand leaving her pouty lips.
You sigh, kneeling to pick her up, rubbing your dog’s chin gently.
“So you want to see papa training, don’t you, little troublemaker?” You prompt, smiling as you tickle her belly. She giggles, wiggling her legs in your hold. “Alright, just this once, and because he’s almost finished with his routine.” You warn, softly pinching her cheek.
Once outside, you both stare at the harbinger, you, with heating cheeks; your daughter, in admiration and wonder.
Then:
“Papa!” She calls, energetically waving to her father, as you have to struggle so she doesn’t fall out of your grasp.
Suddenly, Ajax’s hydro blades vanish, a rare glow present in the eyes that are so like his daughter’s. A wide grin spreads across his sun-kissed features, arms opening as he runs towards you and his baby.
“Papa! Papa!” His daughter repeats, as your husband hugs the both of you.
No matter how cold Snezhnaya’s blizzards blew, Ajax would always have his personal patch of sunshine in you two.
✧ KAEYA
Calla lilies surround the scene, their russet-hued petals aglow in the blue shimmer of the statue of the seven standing amidst the lake.
Dusk approaches, the sky still dyed in shades of tangerine and cherry blossom, the sun, a glimmering halo right above the horizon.
Over frondous grass spotted in sun and shadow, a blanket lies, its baby blue pattern fading into the multiple colors of the snacks scattered above it: portions of cake you baked the afternoon prior; sandwitches carefully cut in triangle shapes; handpicked apples and sunsettias, cut and placed into plates by your lover.
But perhaps the most vivid color of them all was that of the couple sitting atop it.
A couple and their daughter.
“You really liked this pie, didn’t you, little lily?” Kaeya coos at his baby, her chubby cheeks littered with crumbs of the soft cake she’s been devouring all afternoon. Two pairs of ice blue eyes meet each other beneath the setting sun, the girl’s giggles eliciting a chuckle from her father’s lips as he carefully wipes her face. “Mama will be mad if you stain your dress, little princess.” The cavalry captain points out, in mock scolding.
His reprimand is met with a bashful smile and his kid cuddling into him, her tiny hands clutching his clothes.
“Kaeya, don’t tease her!” You swat at his arm playfully, soft laughter leaving the both of you as your husband smooths over your girl’s hair, placing a soft kiss on her head.
“Don’t pay any mind to papa, now.” You reassure her, tenderly brushing over her chubby hands. “He’s a little silly sometimes.”
The girl looks up at you, those iceberg toned eyes wide in wonder at the world that she still has to discover around her.
You ruffle her hair, as she turns around in Kaeya’s embrace, settling on top of his legs, staring up at him.
“Papa!” She announces, taking ahold of Kaeya’s long braid, playing with it. “Papa… prince!” She points out, as she grabs one of the dolls she brought: a boy wearing a crown.
With a knowing grin, you shift closer to your lover, leaning against his side.
“Yes, little sweetheart, you’re right, papa is a prince.” Kaeya’s hand locks with yours over his shoulder, fingers laced together, the warmth of his touch so paradoxical, given the freeze he commands.
“And that is why you’re our little princess.” The knight tells your baby, as he places a stray calla lily on her hair.
“Princess!” She happily babbles, rising her arms.
Instances like this… they truly stoked gentle flames around the captain’s heart, oftentimes concealed behind apparently crystalline walls of frost. As long as he had the two of you, at least during brief moments like this, there would be no need for practiced facades.
Across the distant horizon, even dusk seemed to delay, allowing a few more seconds of luminous skies for the family sitting below it, a flickering smile crossing the anemo archon’s face of stone.
✧ NEUVILLETTE
Slate skies expand above him, his opal eyes restless oceans in the tears they contain, painted lashes dripping in midnight droplets.
Rainbow roses seem to weep too, their petals downcast, the sunrise shades of their blossoms muted in the downpour.
Neuvillette stands alone, the garden of your shared home melancholy; the trees too bare, the grass ashen, the flowers wilting.
Save for the pitter-patter of rusted silver droplets, silence reigns the scene.
The hydro dragon’s mood had a tendency to be mirrored in the heavens over Fontaine, after all.
Sighing, the Chief Justice takes a sit by a bush of lumidouce bells. Fitting, for someone whose shoulders slump not unlike the petals of the periwinkle hued blooms.
“Neuvi, love.” A familiar voice calls him, gently. “What are you doing out there in this weather, dear?”
Long argent locks of hair shift, like seafoam by moonlight, when he turns around, water, from the rain, or his tears, or both, running down his cheeks.
“Someone has come to see you, my love.” You softly utter, beckoning your husband towards the porch, the impending cacophony of his racing mind and falling downpour partially silencing.
Neuvillette’s features warm up a bit the moment he realizes who you’re talking about.
A little girl placidly rests between your arms, eyes of crystalline dusk looking up at her father. Unlike his, hers are rounded, lacking the dark circles frequently etched under your lover’s.
“Look who’s here, little rainbow.” You coo at your daughter, who tries chasing after your wiggling fingers, right as you playfully poke her belly. “Papa is here, do you perhaps want to play with him?”
The baby looks at you, one of her tiny fists on her mouth, as her eyes crinkle up in crescents. Then, she turns towards her dad, arms reaching out.
“Papa! Papa!” She laughs, inclining her flexible small torso towards him.
Neuvillette’s gaze widens, placing his hands around his little girl, protectively cradling her in his embrace.
“Papa is here, sunshine.” Your lover assures her, as he leans down to kiss her nose.
In the distance, a familiar arch shoots across the heavens, the violet of goodbyes and separations shifting into rosy affection.
Golden replaces dull steel, flecks of it dotting the grass, remnants of rain clinging like emeralds to the verdant stems.
The sun is out. The hydro dragon cries no more.
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grim-reapers-wife ¡ 1 month ago
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Can I request a Bakugou x reader where the reader is Kirishima’s younger sister. Kirishima has made it super clear that you’re off limits to all his friends, but Bakugou can’t help himself from falling in love with you (and maybe thinking of you when he touches himself in the middle of the night…) Thanks!
____________________________________________ 🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤
Little sister (Bakugou x fem reader)
Summary: Bakugou has the biggest crush on Kiri’s little sister. But she’s totally off limits.
__________________________________________ 🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤
Bakugous POV:
I’m sitting in Shitty hair’s living room scrolling on my phone waiting for him to get his gym stuff together.
I wish he’d had his shit together already. I’m dressed and ready; gym shorts and a black shirt, with everything I need in my gym bag.
I hear footsteps coming from the stairs and I look up thinking it’s Shitty hair.
“Bout time-” Woah.
“Oh! Hey Katsuki.” It’s Kirishima’s little sister in the smallest shorts known to mankind.
For as long as I’ve known Kirishima, I’ve known that his little sister is off the table.
“Hey, how you doin’?”
She’s younger than me and shitty hair, but god she doesn’t let that stop her.
She’s definitely smarter than him. Prettier too.
“I’m good, you going to the gym?” She nods to my outfit and bag.
“Yeah just waiting on shitty hair.” I say gruffly
She giggles and it’s music to my ears. I scowl at the floor to hide my blush.
“I’ve been thinking about going, you think you could teach me a couple things?”
Boy could I. “Uh-“
“Hey man, you ready?” Shitty hair asks while coming down the stairs.
He narrows his eyes at me and his sister, looking between us like I’ve done something.
“Yeah man, I’m ready.” We walk to the front door and I look behind me.
“Bye.”
I hear her quiet voice just before the click of the door.
Shitty hair zeros his eyes in on me. “She’s off limits. To every one of my friends. She’s the only thing I don’t play about, man. You know this.”
I shrug it off. “Yeah man, I know.”
“Good."
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I get home after the gym with shitty hair. God I could not focus after our talk. I hear them in my head while I turn the shower on.
"She's off limits."
"You think you could teach me a couple things?"
I step in and run my hands through my hair. God what am I thinking? Her in those tiny sleep shorts, thinking about her in the gym squatting with me spotting her from behind.
I let the water run over my face to calm myself.
I know I'm hard just thinking about her. She's gorgeous and she keeps up with me and Shitty hair.
I wrap my hand around my cock and give it a few slow pumps.
She smells like heaven, sometimes I can smell her ambrosial sent on Shitty hair.
Her body is perfect, perfect in every way.
I lazily stroke myself.
This is wrong. This is against the bro code, it has to be; but god the thought of her.
I move my hand faster, putting the other on the shower wall to hold myself.
An image of her naked and underneath me flashes through my mind.
"Fuck." I feel my hot release on my hand.
I close my eyes and imagine her once more before I finish showering.
____________________________________________
I finish my shower and towel dry my hair. I throw on a pair of sweats and grab a book before laying in bed.
Just as I'm about to start reading I hear the ping of my phone.
From: Beautiful girl 💕 9:03pm Hey, are you awake?
My face scrunches up in confusion. Why is she texting me?
To: Beautiful girl 💕 9:04pm Yeah. What's up?
From: Beautiful girl 💕 9:04pm Would you maybe take me to the gym? I really wanna go but I know nothing.
I think about it for a minute. I want nothing more then to be in her presence.
To: Beautiful girl 💕 9:06pm Shitty hair might not like that, beautiful.
From: Beautiful girl 💕 9:08pm We don't have to tell him...
I smirk and shake my head. I type two words.
To: Beautiful girl 💕 9:09pm I'm in.
____________________________________________ 🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤🧡🖤
Notes: Thank you so much for the request. I think this should have a follow up of some sorts. Lmk what yall think!
Maybe we should get a snippet of them at the gym. 💪
Or Kirishima spotting then on a date. 🫣
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anothertimdrakestan ¡ 2 months ago
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living with the batboys headcanons!
req: begging on my hands and knees for what it's like moving into an apartment w/ the batboys/yj boys. like just gimme all the domestic fluff you can think of and all the things they'd be annoying abt yk
jason:
- he would be sooo annoying just wanting to sleep on the floor and leave everything behind
- "all we need is each other! let's forget the world babe!" to which you'd remind him "jace you literally have no clothes here and i'm not letting you spoon me on the wooden floor, i need a bed!!"
- begrudgingly, your strong man would move the boxes and happily hang any high-up decorations
- under your supervision, the apartment would become beautiful
- jace would put little locks on the windows so he could crawl in at any time of night, and his red hood gear would probably be strewn around until you put it back in the closet
- friends would come over and say "love what you've done with the place" to you, and give jason a thumbs up for trying
- he'd also bolt the bed to the wall so it doesn't shake when you- you know. yeah. it's jason todd after all.
tim:
- mr. gadget definitely has a techy house, the type where you can turn the lights on with your phone and set the AC from bed
- he's be sure to get a penthouse with a view and a grass balcony. he knew how you'd always wanted a pet and somewhere breathtaking to read, while gotham isn't the most beautiful, an ocean view would do!
- he never wants to stress you out, so he'd take it upon himself to schedule movers and place furniture in the ideal style
- he'd happily push the giant IKEA cart around if it meant he got to watch you skip through the store happily pointing at the things that would make your apartment a home
- champagne and a small get together once everything was finished, he'd be unable to look at you without a little tear in his eye, he never though the universe would grace him with your warmth, he'd buy you a million more houses if it meant you'd be calling his arms your home
- after long vigilante nights he gets a little too excited guessing where you'll be in the home, watching tv on the couch, curled up in bed, trying another internet recipe- he still gets butterflies when he opens the door and smells you in the air, and his heart skips a beat when you give him the first smile of the day in the morning
- though everything was moved in efficiently, you two still take trips to art galleries and farmers markets, looking for local treasures to bring home
- when you're at a wayne ent. gala tim waits excitedly for you to say "ready to go home?" because finally, home means being together
dick:
- richard asked you way too soon to move in
- you accepted because you needed your goofball around as much as possible
- with a rented u-haul and a dream you carried your stuff together. left airpod in his ear right in yours. showtunes, rap, and pop blasting at all times
- once the apartment was passable, you both slumped into chairs with bowls of cereal
- dick was excited to invite his family over to see the new place and you couldn't help but agree
- the family had a move-in party where everyone helps unpack the final pieces
- now looking at the mantle makes you think of roy, the animal-centric artwork of damian, new computer set up had to be tim, and the beautiful silk sheets and candles in the bedroom had to be dick himself. jason did leave a half drunk bottle of brandy though which was as warm a welcome gift as you expected
- for you and dick, it was home because the people you loved were there. it was rare to get time alone, but that's how you both preferred it, wrapped in the presence of the people you care about
- they say home is where the heart is, and your heart has never been more full than it was curled up in bed with dick, watching the batboys rip each other apart- hey everyone has their own definition of peace!
damian
- damian, when he's paying attention and not thinking about one of his many pets, is scarily good at reading your mind
- the minute you started thinking "this commute is awfully long" and "wouldn't it just be better if we were in the same home?" he was signing the lease to your new dream home
- full of natural light for both of your art work and ample room for the few pets that would move with you, it was perfect
- except the "art of surprise" excited dami so much he forget to ask if you were ok with moving
- you came home to an empty room and though you were robbed
- technically you were? but ii was worth it when damian unveiled his master plan
- with a little tweaking and a few target trips, everything was perfect, and like the gentleman he was, he there would always be a driver parked outside to take you wherever you wished to go
- dami couldn't contain his excitement that you both got to create daily schedules that revolved each other, dog walks in the morning, gossiping over lunch, and exploring the city together at night. even when you went out alone, he would insist he couldn't sleep until you were at home in his arms
- though you would protest, secretly you were the same way. nighttime routines just weren't the same without those green eyes staring lovingly at your every move
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aangelinakii ¡ 2 months ago
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SOME TIME FOR HIMSELF.
— of course he's grateful, but...
summary : of course damian likes that you get on well with his family, he just wishes that maybe they'd let him actually pull you away from them.
note : i always feel like my damian fics are on a whole other level 💀💀 they're so poetic
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the first time damian introduced you to his family, inviting you to dinner one night, he had high hopes that you would be a crowd favourite — and he was never wrong about that.
his father had welcomed you into their abode with a tight smile, kind, of course, but rather wary as to what your intentions may be with his son; by dessert (alfred's star tiramisu) bruce was laughing at every joke and grinning at every story.
his brothers — dick, jason, tim and duke — introduced themselves with their most intimidating glares, thick arms crossed over their chests, emphasising their size, and just how much damage they could do if any came to their youngest kin; as alfred's tiramisu was settling happily in stomachs, they found themselves squabbling over who deserved to get you on their team for eight-ball pool. duke won.
that night damian found himself falling asleep quickly, a soft smile plastered to his lips, images of your smile, so comfortable, as you chatted easily with steph as you awaited your turn with the cue. you'd even managed to crack cass out of her shell a little — and it was only tonight that damian realised how big of a family he had.
even alfred had good things to say when damian purposely stayed back to help him load up the dishwasher once dessert was finished.
he couldn't help that warm pride fizzing in his chest.
but that was four months ago, and damian thinks he sees more of your avatar on wii sports than he actually sees of you.
any time you come round his, you're always whisked away by tim wanting to show you the newest issue of a comic you both gushed over a month ago, or steph dragging you up to her room to update you on some gossip she told you about that time you were here last week. sometimes even ace can't help himself wanting your attention.
he doesn't necessarily want to border you from his family, but when you live in a family so big, no one understands the definition of "personal space."
it gives damian the chances to take you out on dates, go out of his own comfort zone; the arcade, the cinema, paintballing, mini-golf. when money doesn't want to be spent, you two can go on walks, or spend your time together at the library getting studying done.
but sometimes chilling at home is nice, too.
sometimes he wants to play wii sports with you, not sit back on the couch, forced to watch you play tennis against jason; sometimes he wants to play one-on-one eight-ball against you, not stand against the wall, arms crossed, waiting for the game to finish.
so today he's going to be sneaky.
it'll be difficult, sneaking around a family of detectives and vigilantes and alfred, but damian thinks he can do it.
as he creaks open the mansion's front door, the alarm disarmed by one alfred pennyworth — the only person damian had told in advance about your being there, as he realised there was nothing you could hide from that man, even if you tried — damian scans the foyer for any bystanders. once he's sure there's no movement, he looks back at you and smiles, pushing the door wider for you to step past him.
"i say let's get some food and take it upstairs, so we have steady rations for the day," damian suggests, taking this slightly more seriously than you expected; the crease in his brow reminding you of an army general checking the bunker's inventory for the week.
with a soft chuckle, you allow damian's soft palm to take yours, his nimble fingers closing around the back of your hand, tight like he hasn't been able to hold it in a long time — and he has, he's just being dramatic.
feet careful against the marble floor when the plush carpet disappears, damian leads you into the kitchen, where a softly whistling alfred is standing with his white sleeves rolled to his elbows before the sink, drying up glass cups with a cloth.
he barely sends you a glance, though the corner of his mouth curls slightly, and his whistling ceases for a moment.
"i had to tell alfred you were coming," damian explains, his voice an undertone in efforts to not attract any adopted siblings or billionaire fathers. he heads to a cupboard and opens it, pulling out a few crackly packets of crisps and other shared-favourite snacks he claims to have gone out and bought just for today. "he knows too well when i am lying, even though i hadn't lied about anything yet — i was just scared he would find out if i had."
back from the sink, alfred's whistling stops, though the squeaking of polished glass continues. "wise decision, master damian, i'm glad i taught you early on."
now he glances back. "i would go quickly now, last i saw, master dick and master jason were on their way up from the gym. if you want to avoid them, as you say, i wouldn't dawdle."
"dawdle? we are not—"
"master damian," alfred's tone lilts pointedly.
"right." and, with that, some snacks in your grip, some in damian's, he shifts the weight of them to one arm, which seems slightly uncomfortable, and carefully takes your elbow to lead you through a passage behind the fridge.
flickering flames crackle as you ascend the winding steps to the second floor.
"i get you want to have one-on-one time, damian, but you know i really like your family," you find yourself saying halfway up. "it's not that you think i dislike them, is it?"
"no," damian's quick to respond, glancing back at you. "it is that i am beginning to dislike them. they disturb our time together. every time."
you're about to reply, saying something about how maybe time together is turning into time with them, which is okay, but a cluster of voices mutters past the suit of armour concealing you in the shadows of the passageway, and damian presses a finger to his lips.
it's certainly steph, being a girl's voice, chipper, unlike cassandra's, and a boy's voice, either dick's or tim's — but there's people there, and damian doesn't want to be found. more so, you to be found.
after a few silent beats, the voices recede, as well as footsteps atop carpet, and damian leads you out from behind the suit of armour.
just as you're coming out from thr passage, your shoulder clings against the metal elbow of the knight, having misjudged the tightness of the gap between him and the wall, and a metallic twang rings out.
in a manor filled with junior detectives, nothing of the sort goes unnoticed or unchecked, and a door opens before damian can even take your hand.
"(name)!" a voice gasps cheerfully — three guesses who — and another one groans, who you know by now is your boyfriend's.
chest torn between wanting to go along with what damian had planned, and responding to steph as she emerges from her room, your instincts respond. "steph! hey!"
"i didn't know you were coming round today," she smiles, absently taking a pack of crisps from the bundle in your arms and opening it up for herself.
behind you, damian scowls, not taking it upon himself to hide it at all. "that was the point."
stephanie doesn't seem to notice damian's tone, or, seemingly, damian's presence at all, and she places a hand on your shoulder. "you'll never guess what happened the other day," she begins, guiding you back towards her room.
"more already?" you laugh, both intrigued, yet glancing back wistfully towards damian, who's been left alone in the hallway.
"like you wouldn't believe!"
just as she's about to close the door, damian appears, hand on the wood, holding it open, the food dropped somewhere back in the corridor, thick eyebrows knitted together like a sweater. "hey!"
"oh, hey, dames," stephanie takes a break in her gossip update as she sits down at the pink swivel chair at her cluttered desk. "just stealing your partner for a sec, i hope that's okay?"
"it's not," he replies before stephanie can turn back to you and continue.
the stone in his tone is abrasive, gritty, something usually unheard of. stephanie could ignore it, but she finds herself mouth open, blonde eyebrows upturned.
"oh, i'm sorry, i—"
"no, you're not sorry," damian cuts her off again, stomping towards you and takes some of the load off your shoulders, taking a few of the snacks from your arms. "you always do this. whenever (name) comes round, you and everybody else in this house take them away from me. they're here to see me, not you. not you, not dick, not tim, not father."
"hey, that's not fair—" stephanie shoots you a guilty look as her sentence is cut off once more by your emotional boyfriend.
"what's not fair is that the time i want to spend with them is diminished by my siblings, who are not even my real siblings, who insist on being utterly... utterly stupid!"
damian storms off in a huff, off into the hallway and into his bedroom, where the door slams, causing you and stephanie to flinch.
by now she's abandoned her open crisp packet, her appetite suddenly gone, and you don't feel too normal sitting on the edge of her bed with a strange array of snacks in your arms. you want to apologise, but now you understand why damian was so intent on having a day just the two of you.
the words are on the tip of your tongue, and you want to meet steph's gaze, but you can't really bring yourself to.
"i... sorry, i..."
"it's okay, i should be the one who's sorry," stephanie dismisses your apology with a small shake of the head, not watching you either. "i think you should go check on him."
you release the bundle of snacks onto stephanie's duvet, which you don't think she minds, and get to your feet.
when you pass through stephanie's doorway into the corridor, a few heads are peeking out of doors, including duke a few rooms down holding an airpod in hand, having plucked it out to eavesdrop. you offer a smile, and he shares it, putting his airpod back in and retreating to the safety of his room.
outside damian's room, you knock lightly and let yourself in, knowing he won't respond, but also knowing no one else would be knocking on his door after something like that.
he's lying face-first on his bed, fists clutching the sheets so tight his knuckles are turning white.
the mattress sinks slightly beside him as you lower yourself down, placing a careful hand on his shoulder blade.
"damian?" you try, voice just as soft as your touch. "i'm sorry i bumped into the armour, it was an accident. i didn't mean to get steph's attention, and i didn't realise how important it was to you that we got to spend time together."
though muffled, damian's voice comes from within his navy, star-speckled duvet. "it's not your apology to give, you did nothing wrong."
he shifts and you can see half his face, eyebrows still screwed towards each other. "it's everyone else. they can be too much. they always ruin our time together."
"i don't think they realise they're ruining it," you suggest softly. "i think they think they're doing good by you, by getting to know me and having a positive relationship with me. have you ever told them it bothers you?"
the gap between your question and damian's reply is long and lengthy, stretching longer and longer, and you already know the answer, that by the time it comes you're not surprised.
"no."
your hand smoothes circles over damian's upper back. "damian..." you sigh. "how can you expect them to know what you want if you don't tell them?"
mouth squishing out in a pout, damian's shoulders shrug up beneath your touch.
"i know it's difficult, and sometimes you feel like some people should know better, but i think you should tell them."
with a sigh, damian pushes himself up to a seated position, eyebrows less tense on his forehead. "i know, you're right."
improving from that pout, damian's lips pull into a small, minute smile, and he leans forward to engulf you in a hug. "i'm sorry for overreacting," he huffs into the crook of your neck.
at the affection, you feel your lips curl in tandem with his, and one of your arms comes around his back to reciprocate. "it's okay, damian, and besides, it's not me you should be apologising to. we can go together, okay? and then you can tell steph how you feel."
damian's body soaks up into yours, and he lets out a content breath through his nostrils. he doesn't respond verbally, but you can feel him nod his head against your shoulder, and your stomach drops in relief.
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verareids ¡ 1 year ago
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feel the same - s.r. x bau!reader
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spencer misunderstands a conversation he overhears between reader and derek. tags/cws: misunderstandings, confessions of feelings, use of 'y/n', gn!reader, fluff, mild angst, derek morgan has big brother energy wc: 1708 (much longer than I thought lmao) a/n: I'm truly obsessed with season 1 spencer as of late so I HAD to write a fic with him in mind. <3
also posted on ao3
“You know Pretty Boy likes you, don’t you?”
Spencer had been trying to get some sleep on the flight back after working a case that had drained all his energy when the sound of Morgan’s voice caught his attention. Without opening his eyes, he knew exactly who he was talking to. Spencer had never outright admitted to anyone that he had developed feelings for you but it was getting harder to deny. Once Derek had started pointing out the way he’d look up when you entered a room or the way his eyes lingered as you walked away, he was becoming concerned that this crush was more obvious than he’d like it to be. 
He’s been trying to ignore it, telling himself it’s unprofessional when really it’s because he believes there’s no way you could possibly feel the same. There’s a myriad of reasons why he wished Derek would keep his big mouth shut but honestly – that was probably the biggest.
“Likes me? How old are we?” The smooth sound of your response makes Spencer smile to himself in spite of the current situation. 
“(Y/N), come on…” Derek chuckles and is immediately met with a long stretch of silence. Spencer can picture the death glare he knows he’d see on your face if he were to look at you in this moment. “Look, you know he’s never gonna ask you out himself so maybe you should just–”
“Derek.” You interrupt with an evident sternness in your tone. “I’m not having this conversation with you. I’ve told you, it’s not happening.” Ouch. Spencer had never allowed himself to dream that you would reciprocate his feelings but he definitely wishes he had been asleep for that one. With that, he forces his eyes shut tighter than before and takes in one deep, slightly shaky breath and decides to try to go back to sleep, if only so that he doesn’t have to hear you reject him even harder.
~
Spencer wakes up as the jet is landing and he quickly gathers all of his things, walking out and across the strip with much more urgency than usual. This detail doesn’t go unnoticed by you, not much does – especially where Spencer is concerned – and you make a mental note to check in with him later. He had caught your eye the first day you met him which must be, what? Half a year ago now? And he had been on your mind ever since. You had bonded quickly as friends, being the two youngest members on the team. About a month ago you had finally allowed yourself to acknowledge the fact that you had developed feelings for him. You’d sit next to him at any given opportunity, listen to his infamously long rants much longer than anyone else would, spend just a little too long staring at his lips as he talked you through his theories. It didn’t take long for people to notice. Elle had her suspicions, JJ made a comment every now and then, but Derek – he wouldn’t let it go. He teases you about it constantly. You haven’t given him the satisfaction of admitting it, you haven’t been able to deny it either.
When you eventually make your way into the building along with the rest of the team you notice that Spencer had already left. It’s only then you start to be concerned. It’s unlike him to leave in such a hurry, even more so to not even say goodbye. You rack your brain trying to come up for a reason for this strange behavior. Is he sick? Upset about something? Was it you? You begin to go over every interaction you’d had with him recently when you have to stop yourself before you spiral. He’s just tired. If it was serious he’d tell you… right?
~
The next morning you walk in to find Spencer at his desk working on the report he didn’t write last night before he had basically ran away.
“Morning, Spence!” You greet him, making an effort to sound cheerful as you lean on his desk. He doesn’t look up, like he’s trying extra hard to look busy.
“Morning, (Y/L/N).” He replies without looking up. His tone seems normal, his use of your last name is what sounds the alarms in your head.
“Hey… are you feeling alright?” You ask tentatively, not wanting to pry too much in case you really had done something wrong that you clearly weren’t aware of. “I noticed you kind of left in a hurry last night.” He finally looks up and meets your eyes, easing your nerves slightly. His eyes shift away and then back to yours before a soft smile graces his lips, one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
“I’m okay.” He responds after a while in a way that sounds like that’s not all he wants to say. You go to reassure him, make sure he knows he can tell you anything, but stop yourself when you notice the way he tenses when you place a hand on his shoulder. Retracting your hand quickly, you begin to fidget with your fingers before running them through your hair nervously.
“Spencer… I–” You start and stop and Spencer feels a little guilty as you seem to stumble over your words anxiously. “Is it me? Did I do something? Because if I did I–”.
“(Y/N).” Spencer cuts off your panicked rambling. You take a steadying breath as he slowly rises to stand in front of you, your eyes trailing up when he towers over you. He looks around the room and sighs before focusing back on you. “Can we go somewhere to talk?” You nod and begin walking towards a storage room with Spencer following close behind, quickly checking that there's no one in there before stepping inside.
“What’s going on with you?” You break the silence as Spencer closes the door behind him. “You know you can talk to me about anything.”
“I’m sorry if I’ve been acting weird.” You notice the way he dodges the question. He can’t meet your eyes anymore, his gaze shifts around the room and he smiles awkwardly at you.
“Spence, that’s not–” You interrupt yourself, trying to find a way to put your thoughts to words without overwhelming him. “I only want you to be okay. You’ve been acting differently since last night… If there’s something going on I want to be there for you.” When you say that he smiles sadly. He looks down in thought as if he’s considering something.
“I heard you talking to Morgan…” He mumbles, still staring at his feet – wringing his hands together. You furrow your brows in confusion. Talking to Morgan? “On the jet on the way home…”
“Oh.” This isn’t happening. You figure you should’ve known Derek’s relentless teasing would be your downfall. He must know you like him now. There’s a reason you never wanted him to know how you felt. You couldn’t stand the thought of anything ruining your friendship. Spencer visibly deflates even more in front of you at your lack of response. You begin scrambling to come up with a way to get out of this horrifically embarrassing situation.
“Look, I– I didn’t mean to make this awkward…” Oh god. The way he’s stuttering and tripping over his words. You stare blankly at him, then duck your head, bracing for the impact of his rejection. “It’s not like I thought you would feel the same way I just–” Wait what? Your head snaps back up to see his face, eyes widened, which seems to startle him a little. “I wasn’t going to say anything but I guess I just got really in my head about it.” He begins to look a little panicked. “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, I’m sorry if I did.” You just keep staring up at him, mouth agape in disbelief. “(Y/N)?” He says your name with a sad desperation and it reminds you that you should respond.
“Sorry, I–” You say slowly while shaking your head. “Are you saying that – Do you like me?” Now it’s Spencer’s turn to look confused, but it was all starting to make sense to you. You had thought he was acting weird because he had found out about your feelings, when in reality, it was the other way around.
“Yes?” He replies hesitantly.
“I like you too.” You say simply with a shy smile but Spencer looks completely taken aback. 
“You do?” The way his eyes light up with a subtle excitement was adorable. Soon after, that look was replaced with skepticism. “But I thought— you told Morgan you didn’t like me.”
“I told Morgan to stop teasing me about you because I didn’t think this…” You gesture between the two of you. “Was ever going to happen.” Spencer let out a sigh of relief and smiled bashfully.
“You could have just told me.” You feel his eyes scanning your face as if he were still looking for proof that you weren’t messing with him.
“You didn’t tell me either.”
“I thought there was no way…” You make eye contact as he trails off in thought. “I guess it doesn’t matter now.” Spencer takes a tentative step closer to you but doesn’t move to touch you in any way, so you reach out to take his hands in yours, lacing your fingers together.
“Well… maybe if we don’t have to fly out for a case today, we could go to dinner tonight?” You’re staring down at your intertwined hands, squeezing once before looking back up. When you see his face he’s still looking down with a big dopey grin on his face and you can’t help but smile right back.
“Yes— definitely.” You giggle at his obvious enthusiasm. 
You both stay in the storage room for another couple minutes, mostly just staring starry eyed at each other. Eventually you both decide that you should get back to work. You try to hide whatever was now going between you as much as you can but like always, Derek Morgan figures you out within minutes and he, along with the rest of the team, teases you relentlessly. (You wouldn’t have it any other way.)
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devotedsweetheart ¡ 3 months ago
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・❥ I TOLD YOU NO , PIPSQUEAK
▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။‌‌‌‌‌၊|• 0:10
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ rundown :: caleb goes through your phone and finds out something he most likely wasnt meant to find out . frustrated , he ignores all your attempts to flirt with him ... that is , until it gets too much .
WARNINGS :: NSFW! 18+ , porn w/ no plot , dom!caleb , sub!reader , use of y/n , overstimulation , slapping , oral sex (reader receiving)
a/n :: tysm for everyone who voted on the poll for this ! i apologize for taking so long to write it , been busy w/ personal things . hope you enjoy nonetheless 💋
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it all started when caleb found out you were sending the pictures of yourself looking all cute to other men. he didnt know what to expect when going through your phone , but it definitely wasnt that .
he should be the only one you're talking to .
he's spent the last few hours sitting in silence & staring at his ceiling , contemplating whether or not to confront you about it or stay silent and let it build up . his time for thinking ends abruptly when he hears his door creak open and views you walk in . it's late at night but it's not rare of you to come in because of a bad dream ... but your reasoning of barging in is a lot more sinister than something so innocent like that .
you close the door behind you and lean your back against it , making eye contact with him before beginning taking small steps toward him , swaying your hips purposefully just to have the pleasure of watching his eyes roam down to look at them .
once you reach his bed , he breaks eye contact as you sit on the edge of the it; too upset to look you in the eye . not thinking much of it , you twist your body to lay a hand gently on his thigh . "caleb," you utter, trying to make him look at you . "caleb, i have a favor to ask .." at that , he props himself up on his arms to meet your gaze with his .
"what is it, pips?" he asks with furrowed brows and a tone with just a hint of irritation , something you can only pick up on . "i dont really feel like talking to you right now , let alone do something for you . " he says and you can see the frustration on his face now , eyes narrowed and lips pulled into a straight line .
your eyebrows rise up to your forehead , your hand flying to your heart . "oh, you're mad at me ? what'd i do ?" you question with mock innocence . at that , he scoffs and brings his arms out from under him so he can fall back down on the bed . "im really tired , could you let me get some sleep please ? it's been a long day . thanks . "
you smirk at his response , letting out the smallest snicker . "woah there , i didn't think you were that mad at me to ignore me .." you mumble , fixing your eyes to look down at the bed and bringing your hands to your lap; gazing up at him through your lashes . "do you want help getting it out of your system ..? i can surely assist with that."
you're almost sure you can see the way his body tenses up once he hears that.
he swallows hard and you can view from where you are the way he hesitantly shakes his head , crossing his arms over his chest . "no , pips . not tonight .. im exhausted and i was about to go to sleep before you came in . leave , please , now ." his voice is asserting , or at least ... attempting to be . after looking over the images you messaged those men , truth be told he has had a boner ever since and instead of going to bed like he told you he was ... he was actually just about to jerk off . thank god you havent noticed .
"oh come on, dont be so lame . we both know thats a lie," you point out , shifting your body completely to make it easier to slip your hand over his thigh once more , sliding it higher and higher . "let me help you , caleb ... if you wont tell me why you're angry then at least allow yourself to let it out in a way thats healthy ."
"my god, y/n, give it up already!" he yelled , the sexual frustration in his voice clear . he jumped up from his laying position into one that was on his knees , standing up rather than sitting down on them . before you knew it , he was grabbing you by the arms and slamming you down into the mattress beneath him. "you want this so fucking bad, huh? you're such a damn slut, arent you? say it . tell me you're my slut."
all that comes out of your mouth is a gasp, your brain short-circuiting at the pace of which things just switched around . you're hastily sliding your eyes over his face , taking in the crazed look in his pupils , the way his nostrils are flared , his lips in a scowl ... taking in how divine he looks when he's angry .
"i-... i dont-" you whisper , your voice box not capable of saying anything above the tone .
"i didnt ask what you know , i asked you to tell me how much of a whore you are . coming into my room , unannounced, in a skimpy little outfit ... trying to make my dick hard by touching me the way you did . if anything , we both know you know what you are," he says , leaning in to whisper in your ear . "a touched-starved little pipsqueak ."
you shake your head in submission, knowing how scary he could get when he's mad . "no... i-i'm sorry, caleb, i'll leave you alone . i dont know why i even messed with you in the first place ."
almost immediately after those words go through his brain , he leans back up on you and slaps you hard enough to definitely leave a mark . you squeal , bringing a hand up to your face to feel where he hit . before you could reach your cheek , he grabs your hand and pins it up above you; swiftly dragging your other along with it .
"quit talking , y/n , it'll only bring you more trouble to lie . be a good girl and stay quiet while i punish your perfect little pussy for being so needy all the time . you can do just that one thing for me , cant you ? don't make a sound . " he purrs into your face , breath hot against your skin before he crawls down lower; taking your hands with him to rest on your stomach . once he meets with your core , he uses his free hand to briskly take off your scrap of lace that you call panties with his pointer finger . looking up at you , he grins when he sees the look of resistance written all over your face . "spread . now ."
he looks down to make eye contact with your cunt again , taking in the wetness glistening in the moonlight . he takes it upon himself to lean down and blow a flow of cold air right onto your needy clit , making you thrust your hips into his face . he doesn't react , though , only laughs a greedy laugh at your attempt .
"you're only making this worse for yourself , baby . stay still and silent for me and this will be over before you know it ." and with that , he brings his head down to suck on your clit .
it's such a perfect feeling you cant help but moan , tipping your head back and allowing your eyes to flutter shut . the moment of bliss is stolen as quick as it came when he slaps his hand on your thigh , making you jump .
"make a sound and i'll stop ."
------
over an hour has he been torturing you . an hour . sixty minutes .
it's long after you've cum (multiple times) on his face , but he still won't stop . you're thrashing and squirming , crying and screaming , kicking and begging at him but nothing works . you're convinced he's committed to making you pass out ... and maybe he is .
he won't talk to you , won't stop you from pulling at his hair , all he does is pull your thighs closer around his face; using all the strength he has to keep you there .
you can see how hard he is and the evidence of his release on the bed , but he refuses all your offers to make him cum in an effort to get him to stop . he refuses everything and anything , all hes focused on is your core and making you pay for all the hell you've put him through . especially those fucking pictures you've been sending to people .
at this point , his jaw hurts , and he's almost incapable of going on for longer . he finally lifts up off your poor abused core , giving you a moment to breathe and relax your muscles . he drags himself on his hands and knees over you to meet your face , moving a hand to touch under your chin; making you meet his gaze .
" have you learned your lesson yet , pips ? or do you need me to go a little longer ?" you quickly shake your head at his question, you normally would answer with a string of nononononos but you're too fucked-out that you cant . he brings the hand on your chin to your eyes and wipes a tear there . "i'm sorry , baby . i know i'm cruel . i know you'll never do that to me again ." he says , a sincere tone in his voice .
"lets go get you cleaned up ."
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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ in conclusion :: caleb is without a doubt a 'fuck around and find out' typa guy .. :3
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luveline ¡ 1 year ago
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this might be silly but i imagined the boys (marauders) playfully arguing over who gets to marry reader first and they’re just listing times they did these ridiculously romantic things to win the name of husband
“I’ve been thinking…” 
You’re focused on your keychain, but you hum to show you’re listening. Once you get to the end of this row, you can talk properly. 
Sirius sits beside you, his hands paused on either side of his own keyring. They’re technically alpha patterns made from knotted embroidery threads, but you and Sirius call them keychains. 
This is the second time he’s sat with you to make them, and it makes you so happy you could cry. Last Saturday he’d been sitting on the sofa as he usually does when you’re by the coffee table in the evenings, Remus at the other end, feet in his lap, when he touched your shoulder lightly and asked if he could try to make one with you. 
It’s definitely not an easy craft to teach, but it isn’t rocket science, either. Sirius is a quick learner, and his keychain looks very neat. 
“Would you wanna get married, someday?” he asks quietly. 
“Of course I would.” 
You put your string bobbins down. You’d answered without thinking, and the true answer is a little sad. Of course you wanna get married someday, but you’re not exactly in a conventional relationship. Marriages don’t tend to go four ways. 
“You know I wouldn’t have it in a church or anything, but we could still dress up. You could wear a white dress,” he says, looping a bobbin string under one of the anchors, knotting it, and moving on to the next. “I’d get you any dress you want.” 
“That would be nice,” you agree, leaning in to hug his side. You kiss his shoulder, lips pressed to a sleeve. 
“And then you could get divorced and marry me,” James says, backing into the room with a tray of drinks and snacks alike. He sets them down on the table behind your craft station, before rounding it, and sitting behind you to feel your shoulders. “Better yet, marry me first, and Sirius can go second.” 
“No, I’m going first,” Sirius says without worry. 
“You can’t just go first.” 
“Says who?” Sirius turns into your hugging to hug you back gently. 
“Me?” James says. “You can’t just decide that. What I want to marry you first?” 
“You haven’t asked me to get married.” 
You laugh at the ridiculousness of their conversation. There’s sincerity in it somewhere. 
They bicker about who’s doing what and where and who’s with who. You revel in the feeling of Sirius’ hand on your back moving a slow back and forth, each line of his fingers. You love his hands. 
“Babe,” James says eventually, “would you marry me first, please?” 
“Sirius asked first.” 
James groans. “Okay, but does Sirius deserve to be first?” 
“James,” you warn softly. 
“It’s fine,” Sirius says. “He’s kidding.” 
“I’m not kidding,” James says, though he is. “What has Sirius done for you to deserve you as I do? Who brings you a bouquet every Sunday?” 
Technically, the bouquet is from everyone, or so they say, but it is James who wakes up early for bread, milk, and flowers. 
“And who rearranges it? Who gives you your back rub every night?” James pulls you away from Sirius, your head dipping back against his thighs. His smile is catching. 
“Those are very nice things, Jamie, but Sirius takes good care of me too.” 
James cups your cheek. 
“I’m the one who kissed her first,” Remus says. You startle at his voice. He’d been quieter than Sirius, letting himself into the room, climbing over the arm to sit on the sofa behind Sirius. “Which was very romantic. Not sure if you remember.” 
You remember. 
“That disqualifies you from any more firsts,” Sirius says. 
“By that logic, you’re disqualified too,” James says. 
You flush and sit up properly. “I’m not marrying any of you because I’m not something to be argued over.” 
Again, you’re kidding around, but Sirius holds your arm to his side, tired enough to be affectionate. “Sorry,” he says, smiling, “I was just thinking about it.” 
You lean back against James’ legs. How lovely is that? You’re stressing over embroidery lines and he’s thinking of you at the courthouse together. 
“I’ll marry you,” Remus says, giving Sirius a nudge. “Yes?” 
“Yes please.” 
“See,” James says, “they’ll get married and we’ll get married, as I wanted.” 
“And when they’re married and you don’t get to call Remus your husband, you’ll be okay with that?” you ask. 
James frowns deeply. “Well, I hadn’t thought of it until now.” 
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pathologicalreid ¡ 9 months ago
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kryptonite | s.r.
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in which all roads lead to Spencer's apartment, at least they do for jareau!reader
margotober masterlist
who? spencer reid x jareau!reader category: fluff (some comfort (god knows spencer needs it)) content warnings: reader went to a bar, but she's not drunk, creepy guy follows her around, abandoned by her 'friends', takes place following 6x12 "corazon", spencer and reader's first tea date, spencer's migraine arc, jj is in the middle east, this fic definitely wasn't inspired by a 3 doors down song, ffofa!spencer, reader feels out of place in the BAU, sexual innuendo word count: 2.97k a/n: MY GIRL IS HOME i have been wanting to go back to jareau!reader since ffofa ended. i genuinely have their whole lives planned out.
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Screwed. You were so totally completely screwed.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to take you home?” The guy behind you asked once again, but he’d had more to drink than you. You wouldn’t trust yourself behind the wheel of a motor vehicle right now, much less a man who had leeched himself to you in a dive bar.
You laughed nervously, crossing your arms in front of your stomach protectively as you checked for passing cars before walking across the street. “Yeah, I’m sure,” you called over your shoulder, dreading the image of him following you around.
Slowly, you began recognizing your surroundings, the street name that you were turning onto ringing a bell—but which one? Somewhere you had seen the name, but as you glanced around, nothing triggered a memory. “I don’t want you to get left walking all around at night, could get dangerous,” he offered, slurring his speech.
It was the green canopy that finally jogged your memory, you picked up your pace as you recognized Spencer’s apartment complex. “I’m really fine,” you insisted, cursing your friends for the nth time for leaving you in the bar.
You faltered at the door, the blood draining from your face as you realized you’d need Spencer to buzz you in before you could finally lose the creep on your tail. “You’re supposed to push the button,” the guy—whose name you could not recall for the life of you—instructed you.
Smiling anxiously, you reached forward and pressed the button next to Spencer’s name, tapping your heeled boot on the sidewalk as you hoped he’d come let you in. For all you knew, he wasn’t even home.
“If your guy isn’t here, we could always head back to my place,” the drunk guy offered, looking around aimlessly, “it’s over… where are we?”
With wide eyes, you pushed the button two more times for prosperity’s sake, hoping that the world would take pity on you and get you away from him. “Don’t worry about it,” you mumbled, pushing the button again before resigning yourself to an evening with this guy. Turning around, you gave him your best attempt at a smile, “Look, I’m really sorry, but somewhere we got our wires—“
He nodded behind you, “Hey, is that your guy?”
You could’ve cried. Honestly, your eyes might’ve welled up at the sight of Spencer Reid, it looked like he had dragged himself out of bed to come get you. “Yeah,” you breathed, “That’s him.”
Spencer peered out the window, the frustrated look on his face softening when he saw you in the dim lamplight. He opened the door and stood, “Y/N, hey,” he greeted, brown eyes flickering from you to your unexpected guest.
“Hey, man,” the guy said from behind you, “I’m just droppin’ your girl home. I wanted to make sure she got home safe, there are a lot of weirdos out there.”
Spencer’s eyebrows raised in acute irritation, “Sure are,” he responded dryly. He took one look at your widened eyes and reached into his pajama pockets, holding his keys out for you to take, whispering his unit number to you as you swiped them.
“Thank you,” you breathed, squeezing through the doorway behind him and making your way up to apartment twenty-three. You unlocked the front door, faltering when you made your way inside.
You’d never seen Spencer’s apartment before, the entire space perfectly curated so that every nook and cranny was just so… Spencer. His bookshelves were crammed full of old texts, books that collectors would go to the mat for were piled up on the hardwood floor, waiting to be placed on a shelf.
The walls were painted a dark shade of green, and you wondered if Spencer had chosen the color himself or if the apartment had always been this color. You walked inside, placing your dead phone and Spencer’s keys on the coffee table before taking a seat on the supple leather. Tonight had been a nightmare, a story torn right out of the book about your college years.
You stood up as the doorknob turned, and Spencer walked inside, kicking his shoes off before locking the door behind him. “Spence, I am so sorry,” you insisted, walking around the couch and approaching him, “My phone died, and I didn’t know where else to go. I was going to take the metro, but then I remembered that you live near Van Ness, and I thought having somewhere to go would be better than potentially bringing that guy back to my place.”
“Are you alright?” He asked, looking you over quickly, checking the state you were in.
Nodding, you nervously ran a hand through your hair, “Yeah, that’s just… not how I wanted to spend my night.” Finally able to get a good look at him, you inspected his flannel pajama pants, a blue Madras pattern conflicting with the orange emblem of his CalTech shirt. You had never seen him so at ease, “I’m sorry for waking you.”
He shook his head dismissively, “You didn’t, I was still awake.”
You hummed, “Reading?”
Spencer faltered, “Oh, yeah,” his voice softened, looking over at the bookshelves as if he was missing something.
Part of you wanted to mention the odd behavior, but the two of you only ever interacted within the confines of the BAU. Maybe you don’t know him well enough to say that to him. “Do you have a phone charger that I can use? Once I get enough charge, I can just take the metro back to my place.”
Frowning, Spencer looked at you as if you had grown horns, “I’m not letting you take the metro, it’s the middle of the night.”
Glancing over your shoulder, you checked the time displayed on his microwave, if you plugged your phone in now, you’d be able to make it before the metro shut down for the night. “I only need to get on one line to get back to my place,” you informed him.
“That’s irrelevant, it’s past eleven and you’ve already been followed around by one creep tonight,” he reminded you, leaning against the column in his entryway and giving you a knowing look.
Your heart pounded in your chest, “Will you drive me home then?”
Running his hands through his hair, Spencer mumbled something unintelligible before he answered, “No, I shouldn’t drive right now. Just… I’ll go find you something to sleep in,” he told you, pushing off of the wall to go into what you assumed was his bedroom.
You sat back down on Spencer’s couch, skimming your palms over the knit blanket that had been thrown over the back of it while you waited for his return. Spencer Reid was something of an enigma to you, there were times when you thought he’d be your closest friend in the unit, and there were other times when he seemingly wanted nothing to do with you.
He came back out of his room, balancing a sweatshirt in his hands and presenting it to you, “Hey, this should fit.”
Checking the tag on the sweatshirt, you nodded in response as you inspected the rest of the crewneck. An old academy emblem was embroidered on the front of it, but the year didn’t match the timeline of when Spencer did his training at the Academy. You hummed, “Whose sweatshirt was this?” You tried to act nonchalant, thumbing the loose threads on the cuff.
“I’ll check my desk for a charger,” he swerved around your question, leaving you holding the sweatshirt in the middle of his living room.
You watched him walk away, “Uh, where should I change?”
He nodded his head in the direction of his room, “My room is fine. The bathroom is connected if you need it.”
Quickly, you slipped into his room and stripped off your dress, laying it on his bed while you pulled the crewneck over your head. At the very least, the fabric smelled like Spencer instead of smelling like another girl’s perfume. The navy blue sweater skimmed the top of your thighs, falling over you comfortably.
Rolling your dress into a ball in an attempt to hide your bra, you opened the door and jumped when you were met by Spencer. “Is that good?” He asked you, looking you up and down—not for the first time that night.
“What?” You asked, peering up at him with wide eyes. Obviously, you hadn’t expected him to be waiting for you outside of his bedroom. You would’ve mentally prepared yourself to be in your underwear in front of him—you’ve had dreams that started much like this.
He smiled softly at you, “The sweatshirt,” he whispered, “Does it fit alright?”
Mystery girl’s sweatshirt fit you just fine, and you nodded a confirmation up at him, looking at your iridescent reflection in his glasses.
“I live by a lot of nightlife, and that’s gotten out once or twice. So, there’s a small box of clothes that people have left behind here. For all I know that sweatshirt was Morgan’s,” he told you, holding a charger out for you to take.
Your face warmed with embarrassment, “You don’t owe me an explanation,” you murmured before taking the charger from his hand, letting your fingers linger a bit too long in his palm.
The soft smile that remained on his face was enough to make you weak at the knees, “I know, but you asked.”
Holding the charger to your chest, your head bobbed, “The sweatshirt’s great, Spence,” you told him meekly, stepping around him to plug the charger into the wall, and setting your phone next to his on the kitchen counter.
“Do you want to call your sister?” Spencer asked, loitering in the doorway between his room and the living room and sticking his hands in the pockets of his pajamas.
Shaking your head, you crossed your arms in front of your chest, “No, she’s probably busy. Still uh… adjusting to her new job.” You looked over at him, each of you staying on one side of the room. You weren’t sure what JJ’s new job entailed. She had been acting cagier than usual on most of your phone calls.
He finally kicked off his shoes, prompting you to take a seat on the couch and unstrap your heels. “Are you going to tell me what happened tonight?”
Leaning back into the cushions, you tugged the hem of your sweatshirt down on your hips, “There’s really not much to tell.” You watched intently as he turned the corner, sitting next to you on the couch, so close that you felt the heat emanating off of his body. To your surprise, Spencer was one of those people who was built like a furnace—the lanky stature was misleading.
“Did you go out alone?” He asked, matching your level of relaxation and leaning back on the couch. Grabbing one of the pillows from the end of the couch, you set it in your lap and wrapped your hands around it.
Shaking your head, you frowned at your phone, which still hadn’t powered on, “No, I went out with a group of friends for a birthday.”
Concern pinched his brows, “Your friends left you in the bar with that guy? Why would they do that?”
You shrugged in response, skimming your fingertips over the stitching on his pillow, “They think I need to get laid.”
“Do you?” He asked, likely before he was able to process what he was saying, based on the shocked look on his face.
Smiling softly at him, you teased, “Jeez, Spence, buy me dinner first.”
Spencer’s cheeks turned pink as a result of your jest, shaking his head quickly, “No, no, that’s not what I meant. I’m sure you have plenty— er… I’m sure you’re very successful in that area of your life.”
A soft giggle escaped your lips, the light feeling of laughter a stark difference from how you felt twenty minutes ago, “I’m just messing. I know what you meant.” At least, you thought you knew what he meant. You kept watching him, his body turned away from the lamp, neck slightly craned forward. “So,” you began, “If you weren’t sleeping, and you weren’t reading, what were you doing before I buzzed?”
His expression went tight, and you worried you had somehow stepped over an invisible line, “Can you keep a secret?”
Your heart jumped at the prospect of becoming Spencer’s confidante. You’ve spent your first few months in the BAU hoping someone would invite you in, but they all seemed too preoccupied with losing your sister to the State Department to even acknowledge the fact that you were floundering. Trying not to seem too eager, you nodded at him, “You can tell me anything.”
His eyebrows knit themselves together, “I’ve been getting these… headaches lately. Migraines really.”
Your expression softened, mouth going slack in surprise, “Have you been to a doctor?”
He nodded in response and leaned his head to the side, so close to you that you could feel his hair touching your shoulder, “They can’t find a physical cause.”
Your stomach flipped, eyes widening ever so slightly as you found yourself glad he wasn’t looking at you. If there wasn’t a physical cause for Spencer’s migraines, then you knew exactly what he was worried about, “I’m sorry, Spence.”
Spencer hummed in acknowledgment, not saying anything else for a moment. There was just the two of you on his couch, and you wondered if there was any way you could make this a normal occurrence. You’d give away every night out for the promise of nights like this.
Bits of the puzzle started to fall into place. The way he had acted on the case in Miami, all of the time off he had taken, and even his newfound aversion to coffee—he was drinking less caffeine. He hasn’t been sleeping, the bags under his eyes told you that much.
“I’m gonna make tea,” you announced, resting your hands on the tops of your thighs and pushing up. “What kind of tea does Spencer Reid drink on a Saturday night?”
With his head buried on a couch cushion, you hear an almost pained response, “Lavender.”
Your back was to him as you smiled, “I like a guy who drinks lavender tea,” you said, your voice too soft to carry into the living room. Turning on his electric kettle, you started going through his drawers, hoping to find a stash of tea bags somewhere.
“This really isn’t necessary,” Spencer called over from the couch. “I just… needed to share.”
You hummed as you found the tea, grabbing a lavender tea bag before lifting up a box of chamomile, checking the production date before tossing a bag on the counter. Your next challenge would be mugs. “You took me in like a stray cat in the middle of the night, making you tea while you have a migraine is the absolute least I can do.”
He didn’t respond, but you felt his eyes on you as you worked in the kitchen. Dropping the tea bags in the mugs—an air and space museum one for him and a Snoopy one for you—you picked up the kettle before it let off its high-pitched beep, pouring the hot water into the mugs.
Carefully carrying the mugs back to him on the couch, you set them on the coffee table and returned to your spot next to him, “Here we are,” you said, flattening out a napkin for the two of you to place your tea bags on.
“Thank you,” he responded timidly, reaching out for the mug. “Since I shared about myself, I think it’s only fair that you share something with me,” he told you, a ridiculously serious look on his face.
You raised your eyebrows, using your tea bag to stir the tea in your mug, “Oh, a quid pro quo?” A soft smile grew on your face when he nodded, “What do you want to know?”
He thought about it for a while, taking a sip of his tea while he considered his options. “Why does JJ call you Ducky?”
Scoffing, you roll your eyes in response, “Oh, Spence, if you wanted the answer to that question, you should’ve asked while I was drunk.”
“You were never drunk,” he responded easily. “Y/N—” he faltered, frowning before he had the chance to continue.
You incline your head toward him, “What is it? Is it your head?”
He shook his head carefully, “Would you mind if we watched something? On the TV?”
“It’s your apartment, you can do whatever you want,” you told him, your volume hovering just over a whisper.
Spencer reached forward and took the remote off of the coffee table, hitting the power button and bringing the television to life. To your surprise, the pictures that showed up were cartoons. Old reruns from when he would’ve been a kid, he must’ve noticed your surprise, because he whispered, “It gets too hard to focus on anything else.”
He must’ve changed the settings on the TV, bringing down the brightness in a way that was comfortable to his eyes. You thought of all the times Spencer had been in a bright or loud space for work in the past few months, and the sympathy made your chest ache. “Thanks for saving me,” you murmured, watching to catch him before the two of you fell into a comfortable silence.
Extending his mug to you, you gently clinked your mug to his before giving your undivided attention to Inspector Gadget.
As the night went on, you remained in your place on the couch, because when Spencer fell asleep on your shoulder, you didn’t have the heart to wake him up.  
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67bottles-of-milk ¡ 1 month ago
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Not Just Roommates
Finally, Jason lets you meet his family.
~5k words
Part 1
For weeks following Jason and Dick’s conversation, his family tried to convince Jason to let them meet you. They each had their own tactic.
—
Bruce tried invitations to family events and galas.
“You know, it would be really nice if you brought this girlfriend of yours to dinner this-” 
“Nice try old man. Not happening, you really think I’m gonna bring her here just so you can interrogate her? Absolutely not.” Jason didn’t even look up from his bike in the cave. Bruce was dejected at the harsh rejection before perking up, ready for another suggestion. “No, she’s not coming to the gala next week either. Don’t expect me to be there either; it’s date night.” He was quickly cut off with even more rejection. 
“Come on, Jaylad, why not? We just want to meet her, make sure she’ll treat you right,” Bruce tried to reason. That definitely caught Jason’s attention properly. 
“Look, Bruce, I’m twenty two years old and Red Hood. Tell me honestly, and to my face, that you think I would willingly stay with someone who doesn’t treat me right?” Jason’s voice was entirely flat, if a bit condescending. 
“Alright but at least introduce me before you decide to get married to her.”
—
Dick tried to invite himself to Jason’s through various scenarios.
“Hey, Little Wing. Mind if I swing by this weekend? I’d love to spend some quality bonding time together but I know the manor is a mess at the minute with all the preparations for the gala.” Dick had just landed on the roof next to his brother. Seeing Bruce’s direct attempts failing, he decided to take a more sly approach, disguising it as just coming over once or twice to spend time with him and hopefully, at some point be there at the same time you were. If the two of you even lived together. If it didn’t work, he would at least still be able to spend some time with Jason which was always a win in his books. 
“Sure.” Jason’s response made Dick absolutely light up with anticipation. Maybe he actually had a shot at being able to meet you. “ If you can figure out where I live.” Immediately, his hopes were dashed. The entire family had put in quite a bit of effort into finding out where Jason lived but so far, they couldn’t find a single trace of him. Not even a name on any leases or deeds to any place of residence in the entire city, likely under a fake name.
For a while, Bruce was worried Jason was just living somewhere on the street but that was put to rest from some defensive and highly indignant yelling from Jason about how he has an entire apartment that is clean and tidy and that he sleeps in every single night– well, morning. 
—
Tim just avoided going through Jason and decided to figure out who you were all on his own. 
It wasn’t like Jason would give him an answer anyway, might as well skip the trouble and go straight to internet sleuthing. Unfortunately, all he had so far was Jason’s phone number with no social media attached to it aside from an empty instagram profile that wasn’t following anyone and was only followed by family and Jason’s teammates.
He tried Damian’s to see if he followed anyone out of the ordinary. No luck there either. Damian only followed a handful of people. If only Tim had your name, he could do so much more. Although, he supposes, if he had your name then the entire family could have a much easier time meeting you. 
—
“I hate my family sometimes,” Jason sighed, laying beside you as you sat in bed. He pushed his face into your waist and curled into a ball as well as he could. Your hand rubbed his back, resting on the back of his neck after a moment. 
“What have they done this time?” 
“Won’t leave me the fuck alone. God, why can’t they just mind their own business?” You breathed a laugh at his whiny tone. 
“Well, maybe they’re just happy for you? I mean, come on, when was the last time you had a partner?” You teased, pushing his face away from you to look at him properly. 
“I don’t know. Didn’t really have the time for anything when I came back. All anger and revenge y’know? Not much time for love and care like I have with you.” He ended the sentence with a kiss on your hand. 
“Well aren’t you just a sweet talker? I love you, Jay.” 
“I love you more, sweetheart.” 
—
You and Damian were sitting on the sofa, so engrossed in your conversation and entirely ignoring the movie in the background. Meanwhile, Jason was pacing back and forth in the kitchen. He was chewing his thumbnail as he went around in circles in his head debating with himself whether it was a good idea or not. 
“Jaylove? Can you put the kettle on please?” He stopped and looked up at you, leaning over the sofa with a soft smile on your face. He felt his cheeks warm at the sight of you. You were absolutely gorgeous, the love of his life. He nodded resolutely, turning to fill the kettle up before turning to the bedroom. 
“I’ll be back in a minute, it’s cold as hell.” It was not. In all honesty, it was actually pretty cosy but he could get away with wearing a jumper for a bit. He watched as you got up behind him, mugs in hand to replenish drinks for all three of you. Jason took the chance to message Damian while you weren’t sitting directly next to the kid. Not that you would read his messages but he wasn’t risking it.
I’m doing it. Scram.
Actually can you record it? Wanna keep the memory.
If I must.
You’re far too sentimental.
With everything sorted, Jason pulled his jumper over his head and felt around in his pockets. Good, it was still there. As he made his way out to the kitchen where you were, he spotted Damian leaning over the back of the sofa, much like you were just moments ago except now with his phone in hand, clearly in sight with the camera pointing at you making hot chocolate. Real subtle. Thankfully you were too lost in your own world to notice.
“Hey sweetheart,” Jason spoke softly, spinning you by the waist. “Got a question for you.” 
“I’ve got an answer for you.” You put your hand over his where it rests on your hip before he pulled away again, both hands in his pockets. Jason pulled them back out again, just a moment later only to bend down to the floor on one knee. 
“You are my soulmate. The love of my life. My everything. I know we’re young and I know we talked about waiting until after we graduated but I want you now and forever and I don’t think I could wait to ask you any longer.” His words were heavy with nothing but adoration as he looked you in the eyes. “Will you marry me?” Immediately, you dropped to the floor with him and dragged him into a tight hug. It was short lived as you immediately pulled back, kissing every inch of his face.
“You know damn well I will. Absolutely I’ll marry you, Jason Todd.” His joy overwhelmed him completely, his eyes shining and crinkling in the corners, his smile stretching as far as it could. He took your hand, sliding a simple ring on your finger as the gemstone in the middle reflected the kitchen light. A bright laugh bubbled up as Jason lifted you in the air to spin around, kissing you deeply the moment your feet touched the floor once again. 
“Can we return to the movie now?” Damian piped up from his position in the living room, done recording and already in the process of sending the video to Alfred.
—
The next day, everyone had made it for the monthly family dinner, even Steph and Babs were in attendance. Jason was last in, running late as a result of the rush hour traffic. Nothing he could do when he had classes to attend still. Alfred was the first to greet him as he made his way to his seat at the table. 
“Congratulations on the excellent news, Master Jason.” It was just one sentence offered as the butler returned to the kitchen to finish bringing dishes to the table. A momentary pause rang through the room as everyone turned to look in curiosity. What news would Jason have that would be excellent?
“What’s new with you then?” Dick poked, hoping he wouldn’t be immediately brushed off. He was not very lucky.
“Nothing really, just finally managed to get something done I’ve been meaning to for a while now. Nothing that concerns you.” He was more focused on getting food on his plate. Despite not wanting to directly fuel his family’s incessant need to be in his business all the time, he was still excited to show off. And so, he was very deliberate in using his left hand to reach across the table for each platter. With a family full of detectives, it was not long before at least one of them caught on.
“Jason.” It was Bruce that caught it first, afterall he was really the only person sitting to the left of him. “Is that a ring on your hand?” It was a calculatingly calm tone. One that was almost perfect in hiding Bruce’s emotions.
“Yeah.” He didn’t want you to be the only one wearing a ring. Sure, it wasn’t the most traditional thing for him to be wearing a ring himself but he wanted everyone to know that he was a committed and taken man, even if you weren’t his wife just yet. 
“ Please do not tell me you got married and didn’t invite or even tell any of us.” Bruce had dropped the calmness and replaced it with tired exasperation.
“Of course not.” Jason spoke with faux offence. “Damian was there.” Dick slammed his hands on the table and stood up with such speed his chair would’ve fallen if not for Cass catching it as it tipped backwards. 
“Are you kidding me!? You got married and I wasn’t even invited? How could you, Little Wing, I thought we were brothers?” Dick was tearing up, the hurt evident in his voice as he sank back into his chair defeated. 
“Worry not Grayson, he has yet to marry, they are merely betrothed.” Damian spoke up. “They agreed that they would not get married until the two have achieved their degrees.” Without even thinking, he added more fuel to the fire. 
“Wait a minute, degrees? The two? Jason, you’re getting a degree?” Tim jumped into the conversation now, entirely baffled at the concept of Jason pursuing higher education. 
“Uh, yeah? I’m in my final year dude, been studying literature for a solid two years now. What do you think I’ve been doing all day?” Jason asked, acting as if he hasn’t kept almost every aspect of his life to himself since he came back. 
“To be honest? I assumed you were just sleeping all day.” Tim shrugged.
“I thought you were working a part time job somewhere.” Dick chimed in.
“I was under the impression you were continuing operations as Red Hood during the day with the other Outlaws.” Bruce’s conception was the most accurate considering he did still hang out with Roy some weekends.
“Well, you’re all wrong. I’ve been going to Gotham University to study literature. Don’t know if I’ll do anything with my degree since, y’know, but it’s always there for me to fall back on anyhow.” 
“So, now that you’re engaged, will we be meeting this fiancee of yours any time before the wedding?” Bruce pushed. 
“Maybe.” 
—
Maybe came just over two weeks later. 
Jason was out for the day, helping Roy with a case he was struggling with and so it was just you at home. Well, for the morning anyway; Damian had said he would be over in the afternoon to watch the next movie in the series. (How this boy had made it so far in life and had seen neither The Hobbit nor The Lord of the Rings was beyond you but you were rectifying that and so The Battle of the Five Armies was on the watchlist for this evening.) 
Taking a long look in the cupboards and through the fridge, you sighed and pulled your shoes and coat on. Grocery shopping was long overdue. Now that you had used the last of the milk in your coffee this morning, you took it as a sign that it was time for the bi-weekly shop. 
As you wandered around your usual grocery store, you turned a corner to be met with a familiar scowl. 
“Damian? This is an excellent coincidence, I was just about to call and see if you wanted any particular snacks for movie night tonight.” You smiled as you approached further only to come face to face with an older man you vaguely recognised. “Ah. Hello.” 
“Damian, you know this woman?” Dick asked, turning to look at the young man in question. Damian sighed with annoyance. 
“Todd will be most displeased. Grayson, this is Todd’s betrothed.” He then turned to you with an equally stern look on his face. “I would like that toffee popcorn you bought last time. It was pleasant.” Dick turned to look at you with utter surprise and unadulterated glee.
“Oh my God, you’re the fiancee!! It is so lovely to meet you finally, Little Wing has been so insistent on keeping us from meeting you. Besides Dami, here of course but they’ve got their own weird connection that I’m not even sure where it came from.” 
“It’s nice to meet you too, Richard.” You offered a smile. He grimaced at his own name. 
“Please, just Dick is fine.” He insisted, almost desperate. 
“Sure, Dick. Anyway, it has been lovely to meet you but I have shopping to bring home. Damian, I’ll see you later?” He nodded and waved goodbye as you headed for the tills to pay. 
—
Jason didn’t come home until the credits of the movie rolled and Damian was slouched over, snoring quietly. 
“Hey Love, how was your day?” Jason stooped over the backrest of the sofa to press a kiss to your temple. 
“Pretty alright, got some washing done, went grocery shopping. You will never guess who I came across today though.” You smiled, pushing off the sofa and gathering empty bowls and cups to take to the kitchen. 
“Who? Charlotte?” He guessed, settling a blanket over Damian and turning off the TV. 
“Better. Dick. Ran into him and Dami in the shop. Stopped to say hi and get acquainted. I mean, gotta meet the in-laws at some point, right?” You shrugged, stacking the dishes in the sink to be done at a later time. At least when Damian was awake and wouldn’t be disturbed by the rushing water. A muffled groan came from Jason as he slumped onto the sofa with his head in his hands. 
“Great. Just great. Now they’re not going to leave us alone. This is just what I needed.” 
“I’m sorry, I didn’t realise it would be an issue. I mean, it was bound to happen eventually and it’s not like he’s Black Mask out to get you.” Jason sighed and reached for you to pull close.
“It’s not that. I just wanted to keep you to myself for a little longer. They can be really overbearing and they love nothing more than to be all up in my business as though it were their own. I hate it a lot. I just don’t want them to come and ruin the peace I have here with you.” You rubbed his hand before pressing a kiss to his knuckles as reassurance. 
“They don’t have to know where we live. I am more than okay with meeting them at the manor or even in a restaurant somewhere. It doesn’t have to be all in. them getting to know me doesn’t have to mean them getting to know every single aspect of our lives.” You tried to comfort Jason, convince him that meeting his family will not be the end all be all of your peaceful life together. 
“Yeah but I know that as soon as they have even something to go off of, they’re going to do their shitty detective work and find out as much as they can. Hell, I wouldn’t be shocked if either Tim or Bruce ran a background check on you the moment they learned your name.” He sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. “I’ll think about it. I know they’ll have to meet you eventually, especially since we’re going to be getting married and then you will literally be part of the family. I just… I need some time to consider.” 
And so later that evening, once Damian had returned home, Jason surprised you by having a shower and coming back to the bedroom dressed in– not his usual nighttime outfit of leather and kevlar, but instead cotton and polyester. He was sporting the Hello Kitty pyjama pants you had gotten him as a joke one day. It wasn’t often Jason joined you so early in bed but tonight, he seemed to be having the night off. 
Wordlessly, you shifted to sit more upright and opened your arms in invitation. He crawled over the bed and settled his head on your chest and curled the rest of his body around you. Soothing circles were rubbed into his back as he closed his eyes in thought.
“You really want to meet my family?” Jason shifted to rest his chin on you and look directly into your eyes. You pushed his hair back and kissed his forehead. 
“Jaylove, you know I love you. I will not marry you before meeting your family and I refuse to meet them at our wedding. So yes, I really want to meet your family. I can tell, despite all your grumblings about them, that they’re important to you. So I would love to come to the next family dinner and finally have a meal made by Alfred that hasn’t been microwaved in tupperware.” He sighed and went back to pressing as much of his face against you as possible. 
“I love you more. Alright, next family dinner I’ll bring you along. Unluckily for you, that’s this Friday.” 
—
Friday rolled around and the manor was as it usually was for family dinner: loud, chaotic, and full of bickering and teasing. Most of all, it was warm and everyone was honestly just there to have a good time. Even when there are grudges being held and long term disagreements that have yet to be settled, everyone calls a truce for the monthly Friday night dinner. It was Alfred’s rule and no one wanted to cross Alfred. There were no exceptions. 
Naturally, Jason had only informed Alfred of your company for the night since he would need to set an extra place at the table. Not even Damian knew because he hadn’t been over since movie night for you to tell him and Jason certainly wouldn’t. So when Jason walked in with a woman holding his hand? Silence. 
“Oh my God. She’s way too pretty for you.” Steph was the first to snap out of it and was immediately on her feet, snatching your hand from Jason and holding both close to her chest as she leaned close to your face. Her face lit up with a mischief that Jason dreaded to see. “So what’s he like at home? His room here is always so messy with books and clothes like everywhere. He’s barely ever here nowadays so I don’t even know how he keeps it so messy.” 
“Honestly? I don’t mind the mess, it’s not like he’s dirty anyway. Jay’s got like the cleanest hygiene habits of anyone I know for the most part. My favourite evenings are definitely our self care spa nights.” You giggled behind your hand, leaning in as though you were telling her a secret.
“Wait, you guys have spa nights? That’s so cute. And it honestly makes so much sense now. No wonder his skin is practically porcelain despite wearing his goddamn helmet all the time!” You now shot her a confused look, head tilting in question.
“Helmet? What helmet?” Stephanie panicked as she looked to the other family, each also showing varying degrees of distress. So you didn’t know? They would have to be careful.
“Uh, well, his… his motorcycle helmet! Yeah, his motorcycle helmet. I mean, he rides around on his bike everywhere, it’s practically his kid y’know?” 
Jason was sat confused, there was no way you didn’t realise she meant his Red Hood helmet, right? As you came to sit next to him, you gave him a saccharine smile. “I didn’t know you rode a motorcycle, Jay! I guess even after being in a relationship for over two years, there are still things to learn about each other.” Oh. You were going to mess with his family. This is why he was going to marry you. 
“So, it’s nice to finally meet the woman my son has decided to commit his life to. Bruce Wayne, a pleasure to meet you.” Bruce nodded politely with an even expression, cutting into the conversation so dinner could finally begin.
“It’s lovely to be able to meet Jaylove’s family, he’s told me so much about you all. I mean, Tim! It’s so impressive that you’re running a company while still attending school. I bet you definitely sleep well at night.” The boy in question shifted uncomfortably, suddenly aware of his prominent eyebags and the red bull he’d poured into his glass for the meal. The fact he had barely slept more than ten consecutive minutes in the past few days also flashed to his forethoughts. 
“Yeah. Definitely eight hours every night.” He awkwardly shifted in his seat. 
“Of course, I’ve heard about you Dick and all the hard work you do as a police officer over in Bludhaven. Truly an admirable line of work.” Dick sat up straighter now that he had been directly included in the conversation. Finally, someone around that wouldn’t admonish him and berate him for his day job. 
“Thank you, it can be tough sometimes, especially considering the high level of crime around but growing up here in Gotham, it really isn’t much different working over there. Y’know? Besides, I have help.” You nodded along solemnly, a serious expression on his face as he talked about the struggles of his line of work. 
“Indeed. Incredibly honorable and very inspiring to see someone willing to follow protocols and the correct way to do things. Unlike those good for nothing ‘vigilantes’ that run around Gotham at night.” At that, everyone stiffened up and shot disbelieving glances across the table. The only ones seemingly unaffected were Jason, Damian, and Bruce. Jason was muffling his laugh with a mouthful of mashed potatoes, Damian was pretending he couldn’t hear anything as he pet Titus under the table. Bruce, commendably, didn’t even so much as twitch as he looked on thoughtfully. 
“Interesting. Care to elaborate?” It wasn’t often Bruce got to hear the honest and unfiltered opinions of Gotham citizens on his family’s nighttime operations. Sure, there were forums where people would discuss them but oftentimes, they were exaggerated or just trolls looking for entertainment by spouting hate. 
“Of course. I mean, there’s no way I would ever let my kids go out at night in kevlar speedos to beat people up. Granted, the robin costumes have gotten better over the years, the first two really should’ve had a bit more common sense. No. Actually, Batman really should’ve been more responsible. He’s the one who trained them to go out there in the first place, he couldn’t at least educate them on wearing safe and proper clothes on the job? Like, come on dude, so not a safe working environment.” That earned a few giggles around the table. 
“Is your grief with them just their costumes?” Barbara asked. Your answer came a brief moment later. 
“Honestly? Yeah, I think so. I mean, there have been some good choices made lately. The current Robin’s newest outfit is definitely my favourite. Red Robin’s cowl moment? Atrocious. Bowling ball. But like, straight into the gutter, you wouldn’t even hit a single pin. Definitely nothing to complain about with Spoiler though. The eggplant? I love it, and the transition from the full face cover to the half mask? It’s honestly everything.” Steph clapped from her seat, nodding fervently. 
“See? I’m not the only one that thinks I- she looks good in it. Can’t believe everyone keeps saying she should pick a different colour that isn’t as obvious to see. Like c’mon.” You pointed over at her with a grin. 
“NO SEE SHE GETS IT. Like, Red Hood? Dude that thing is fucking chrome, in the streetlights, I swear he’d be reflecting like one of those rainbow prisms. Like calm it down. Could never argue with a man whose thighs are the size of my head though.” You nodded and sat back in your chair. From the side of you, Jason looked at you incredulously. 
“How dare you. For one, you fucking love that helmet, I don’t want a word out of you on that front. Second, you and I know damn well my thighs are bigger than your head and you would absolutely argue with me. And you do. Just yesterday you were arguing with me when I said we should have peonies on the tables at our wedding because they’re your favourite but you said no because they would be out of season since you want a fall wedding.” He huffed and sat back in his chair. 
“Yeah well, I don’t want a fake flower bouquet. It’s just not the same.” Dick held up his hands as he processed the words Jason had said just a few moments ago. 
“Woah, wait a second. Can we backtrack just a second? You know he’s Red Hood?” You raised an eyebrow at him. 
“Well, yeah? This man cannot keep a secret from me to save his life. Proposing was the one thing he’s ever managed to surprise me with, like, ever.” You shrugged, like it was no big deal to know that your fiance was Gotham’s most infamous crime lord and one of the few people actively on the Justice League’s wanted list. “Also, back to the topic of suits, Dick, can you please tell me what possessed you to wear the Discowing suit? That in and of itself was probably the turning point for at least one Gotham rogue.” You went back giving him the side eye with your lips pursed and an eyebrow raised. 
“How dare you, that was the pinnacle of fashion at the time and I will not stand for this slander!” His chair fell from under him as he stood up, slamming his hands on the table. A sharp cough from the doorway caught everyone’s attention. 
“Master Richard, I think you will find you have just, in fact, stood for ‘this slander’ so if you would please return to your seat, that would be most obliged. And if we could refrain from slamming the table, thank you.” Alfred spared no more words as he turned and went back to wherever he had come from in the first place. Everyone was silent at the table for a moment before everyone broke out into raucous laughter at Dick’s expense as he sat with his head on the table. Even Bruce stifled a laugh behind his palm. 
—
The dinner, from that point on, had gone without incident. Jason was so happy to see you get along well with his family. Even if he didn’t get along with them all of the time, and they had more than their fair share of disagreements, they were still his family and he (not that he’d ever admit, even to himself) loved them as such. 
He didn’t realise how nervous he’d been until you were back home, getting ready for bed. You were sat in bed, watching as Jason pulled on his socks while getting ready to go out for the night. Without warning, you launched yourself at his back, tangling your arms around his neck and grappling your legs around his waist. Taken off guard, he let himself be dragged backwards onto the bed as you smothered the top of his head and forehead with kisses. 
“I love you so much. Thank you for letting me meet your family.” Jason breathed out and pressed kisses into your forearms resting over his shoulders. 
“I love you more, might as well meet them before they start causing problems about it. Now, sweetheart, as much as I love you and I love this, I have to get going. Big bad guys to catch and all.” You relented your hold and pulled his face in for one last kiss before the boots and helmet went on.
“Alright, but I’d better be meeting Roy soon.” You pointed at him and blew another kiss to where he stood by the window, hands braced on the frame with one foot already halfway out. 
“Whatever you want.”
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anakinca ¡ 2 months ago
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Baby .... I want to read something like this where we have a picnic day with our beautiful general in a meadow with pretty flowers all around us. Anakin with his head in our lap as we stroke his wavy hair, put little flowers on him as he sleeps with a smile. A contrast of the strong general he usually is. 💗💗💗💗
It can be on Alderaan or Naboo wherever you prefer.
The reader can be a princess
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—❝every star in the galaxy❞
anakin skywalker x reader
tw ; nothing, just pure fluff
a/n ; I FEEL LIKE I ALWAYS DISAPPEAR FOR MONTHS AND THEN REAPPEAR IM SO SORRY LMFAOAO 😭 i'm so sorry these requests are so delayed, i genuinely have been so busy and my writers block is so intense. BUT IM BACK, WRITING ALL REQUESTS, AND TAKING THEM AGAIN, SO MAKE SURE U SEND IN UR REQUESTS CUTIES. i hope you all enjoy this, angels <3
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THE SUN WAS WARM ON NABOO THAT AFTERNOON—GENTLE AND GOLDEN. It was the kind that made you want to stretch out in a field and forget the rest of the galaxy existed. And, for once, Anakin had let you pull him away from everything. No comms, no strategy meetings, no troopers needing orders. Just you, him, your love, and the open meadow dotted with wildflowers.
The basket you packed was practically forgotten by now, just a few feet away, and half-emptied. Anakin had eaten exactly one pastry you made this morning before mumbling something about being tired and dropping straight into the grass with a groan. You’d tried not to laugh as he made himself comfortable, his head ending up in your lap like it belonged there.
Which, at this point, it does.
So many nights and days have been spent with his head on your lap, with your fingers carding gently through his hair. It's a solace of his he's never thought he'd ever get to experience. But, Force, he thanks the stars that he does.
It's what he looks forward to every time he gets to come back home to you. The feeling of your warm embrace and your touch, letting him know that he's finally safe.
Now he was dozing, one arm lazily wrapped around your lower back as you sit up in the grass, the other draped across his chest. His breathing was slow and even, and you could tell by the way his fingers twitched every now and then that he wasn’t fully asleep, but definitely far enough to let his eyes get the rest they desperately need.
You run your fingers through his soft, sandy curls, brushing them back from his forehead as the breeze rolled over the field. A soft smile pulled at the edges of your lips as you picked a few of the little flowers near your legs—daisies, mostly—and started tucking them gently into his hair. It was dumb. Silly. But he looked so peaceful like this, how could you resist?
And it definitely doesn't help how angelic he looks just about now. How could he ever be the one to call you an angel when he looks like this?
He mumbled something under his breath as you brushed a petal against his cheek, gently weaving them into his hair.
“Hm?” You hum questioningly, your thumb caressing his cheek gently. 
“’S nothing,” he murmured, still barely awake. “Keep doing that.”
You bit back a smile, brushing your fingers through his hair again, this time more deliberately. He sighed so gently, the way it sounded so reverent in it's own way. Like it was the first time he’d let himself exhale all week. 
It was a relieving contrast, seeing him like this. The man who usually stood so cocky and commanding, voice sharp and full of purpose, now curled into you like a tired little boy. His boots were off, his tunic soft and rumpled from where you’d tugged it earlier, teasing him for still dressing like he was about to lead his battalion into a war.
“You don’t look like a general right now,” you said softly, just thinking out loud as your fingers trace his every delicate feature. 
One of his lids opened, letting you see one of those ocean eyes that hold so much depth to them, the very ones you fell so deeply in love with.
The way he looked up at you held so much passion, that it was hard to express, and it made your very heart tighten. How could a man love so deeply, that you can see it even with only one of his eyes?
The corners of his mouth twitch, opening both eyes now as his lashes flutter a little, trying to blink the drowsiness away. “Good.” He murmurs.
You blinked. “Good?” You ask, a small laugh in your voice. 
Anakin shifted a little, turning his face so his cheek was pressed fully against your thigh, as that boyish grin you love so much appears on his face. “I don’t want to be a general when I’m with you.”
His tone hit you in a way you weren’t expecting. It's so gentle, honest. So utterly adoring. 
You let yourself trace the edge of his jaw with your thumb, watching the way his eyes fluttered closed again, thick lashes resting. “Then what are you when you’re with me?”
He was quiet for a moment, taking in deep breaths as he relishes in the peace—the peace of you.
“Just… me.” He replies in a whisper. 
While his words are so simple, you know him well enough to know how much meaning they really convey. And truly, he finds that he can just be when he's with you—that he can show his flaws and not be berated for them like he's been his whole life. That you'll love him despite it all, and that's everything to him.
Your heart did a little flip. You didn’t say anything, just leaned down and pressed a kiss to his temple. He hummed in approval and relaxed even further, like he could melt right into you.
After a while, his voice floated up again, low and drowsy. “Are there flowers in my hair?”
“Maybe.”
He huffed, but there was no real protest. “You’re ridiculous.” He grins, though you know he doesn't mean it. If anything, he's enjoying this. A little too much at that. 
“And you’re beautiful.” You giggle, twirling one of his curls around your pointer finger.
The sound is music to his ears, and it makes his grin only grow wider. He's really found his peace. What would he do without that melodic sound that keeps him tethered to this very ground?
“You’re making it really hard to go back to the Temple after this,” he said, voice barely above a whisper now.
You kissed the top of his head and smiled against his curls. “Good.” You whisper back, wanting to keep him here in your arms forever. He's always told you that's a dream of his, to be able to never leave your embrace.
It's moments like these that Anakin knows he's found his home in a person. He cherishes these memories with every piece of him, and enjoys them with every fragment of his heart. 
How could he not? He's with the woman he loves more than every star in the galaxy combined, the one he holds so dearly. The one that he breathes the very air for, lives his life to see. Just your presence lights a flame in his heart he doesn't know if he deserves. 
But you let him know he deserves it, you always do. 
And under the blue Naboo sky, Anakin let himself rest—knowing he's safe, loved, and wrapped in a kind of peace he didn’t think he’d ever be able to have. Not in this life.
But somehow, with you, he's able to.
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