#something that isnt Standing Reference

[creaturefeaster]

finnnnally got myself to draw something

[https-papaya]

such a gentleman — max v.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

( masterlist | guidelines | drop a request )

PAIRINGS: max verstappen x fem!reader

SUMMARY: max' best friend breaks up with her boyfriend in spectacular fashion. maybe this is the push he needs to finally admit he's in love with her.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: i'm genuinely blown away by the kindness and support i've received from everybody so far. i was really nervous to start posting here, but you've all been incredible! i hope that you guys enjoy this one as much as i enjoyed writing it — WARNING that this smau involves references to infidelity (not max or the reader). have fun and feel free to send me requests!

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris, danielricciardo and others

yourusername what better way to take my mind off things. monaco, you were a dream. next stop...?

view all comments

maxverstappen1 Thank you for being there. 💛

liked by yourusername

user2 hope you're feeling better!

user3 You should totally go on holiday somewhere and just forget about him tbh

yourusername that's the plan 😉

user1 ugh i hope max dropkicks him into next year

liked by maxverstappen1

danielricciardo my offer still stands...

yourusername you're just built different 😔 aus is too hot for me!!

landonorris thanks for convincing max not to order in the sushi platter

yourusername anything for my favourite papaya 🧡

oscarpiastri hey.

yourusername sorry osc, he's got the longevity :( give it a few months?

user4 oSC????

yourusername added to her story

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo, landonorris and others

yourusername much needed.

view all comments

user2 the second pic???

user4 omg i cant believe max and her went together sdjhfhdj

danielricciardo and here i thought aus was too hot for you??

yourusername 🫢

user1 oh theyre in love ur honour

user7 showing the ex what he's missing fr

liked by yourusername

landonorris without me??

yourusername next time xx

user3 the fact this means max took the first pic has me spiralling

user5 no way her ex isnt seething over this LMAO

user6 his fault for cheating imo 🤷

liked by maxverstappen1

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, landonorris and others

yourusername another month, another race. glad to be back 💛

view all comments

user2 no max in the likes?

user3 its over i fear

landonorris supporting the hometown boys, i hope?

yourusername count on it!

user1 and if i speak-

user4 don't.

danielricciardo was the coffee as good as he says?

yourusername even better i promise

user5 HE???

user6 surely-

maxverstappen1

liked by yourusername, danielricciardo, landonorris and others

maxverstappen1 Didn't get the win this weekend, but I won something better.

tagged: yourusername

view all comments

user1 oh my god.

yourusername thank you for loving me ❤️

maxverstappen1 Always ❤️

user4 its so over for her ex BYE-

user3 more affection than her ex ever showed her i know that's right

user2 They're sickeningly cute I can't rn

user5 parents???

danielricciardo fucking finally

landonorris it was almost painful fr

yourusername oh shut up

oscarpiastri no no he has a point

yourusername do you want me to pay for lunch tmr or not??

oscarpiastri i'm willing to take the risk

liked by landonorris and danielricciardo

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

© https-papaya || do NOT rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platforms

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

COME REST YOUR BONES NEXT TO ME ; SATORU GOJO, SUGURU GETO

synopsis; satoru shares the first snowfall of the year with the two people he loves most. 

word count; 4.6k

contents; satoru gojo/reader/suguru geto (poly relationship!!), gn!reader, you're all whipped, reader referred to as spouse, fluff fluff fluff!!, sickeningly domestic, just comfy vibes all around, mostly from satoru’s pov, suguru has a favorite (its you) (but also not really he just likes bullying toru <3), satoru gojo may or may not have unresolved mommy issues

a/n; happy satosugu holidays to those who celebrate <33 geto died today isnt that crazy. dont u think its fucked up how love figuratively and literally killed him. anyway! help urself to two very whipped husbands <33

”holy shit!”

the raspy tilt of satoru’s voice echoes throughout the bedroom, stirring you from your comfortable slumber. a soft groan spills from suguru’s lips, deep and husky, as he pulls you closer into his embrace — smoothing a warm palm down the back of your head. trying to soothe you back to sleep, muttering under his breath.

”satoru, it’s too early for this...”

”it’s snowing!” said man continues, unperturbed. unmistakably giddy. he’s standing by the window, hands pressed flush against the cold glass; entirely entranced by the sight in front of his cerulean eyes. 

your eyelids begin to flutter. a tiny tug of your subconscious, a pang of something excited flowing through your veins, an alert to your sleepy brain.

(snowing.)

with groggy movements, you wriggle out of suguru’s grasp — a displeased grumble leaves his throat, almost a whine — allowing you to scramble out of bed. ”really?” you chirp, rubbing the sleep from beneath your eyes. a raspy, meek little voice spilling into the air.

satoru grins, watching you move closer, watching as a tiny gasp pushes past your lips. watching as your droopy eyes widen — brightening, glittering, starlight and snowflakes painted on the interior of your iris. a breathtaking sight, he thinks. 

maybe even more breathtaking than the winter wonderland reflected in it; beyond the pure opaque frosting of the window’s glass, out into your backyard, buried beneath a thick layer of snow. soft and fluffy, covering the city, suguru’s long-frozen tulip garden, the bare branches of your apricot tree. every roof in sight. all of it dyed a pure white, glittering in the light of a morning sun yet to fully rise, tiny snowflakes descending down to earth. 

it’s beautiful. 

satoru loves winter. he always has, he thinks. it comes to him as a memory — blurred at the edges, gleaming even still, the first time he saw those snowflakes up close. someone held him in their arms, he recalls. a warmth long faded. 

all he can properly remember is that sight. one that knocked the breath from out his tiny lungs, all glitter and something almost other-worldly, something frightening in its majesty. like it broke through a rift in the stratosphere. 

the first snow of the year.

and he’s loved it ever since; the soft crunch of snow beneath his feet, an air heavy with the scent of cinnamon and candied apples, bouts of laughter to be heard from faraway apartments. red and green glimmers of artificial light, sweet frosting on the christmas cake he would always gobble up alone in his room. the cold wind, nipping at his bare fingers — a reminder of his capacity for ache.

there are lots of things to love. lots of memories to cherish. and every single year, he gets the chance to make more.

like this; the light in your eyes, the smile on your face, the excitement in how hurriedly you turn to meet his giddy gaze. a nostalgic kind of joy simmering in the space between you.

and before either of you know it, satoru’s pulling you towards the hallway, intent on dragging you outside to see it all up close. almost tripping over his agumon plush, lying unassumingly on the floor, kicked off the bed once again. 

(probably by satoru himself, though he’ll always insist it was suguru’s doing. overcome by his jealousy, surely, unable to stand the sight of his cute husband cuddling up to a plushie instead of him. satoru understands, he does — he feels the same when he sees you hug that 3’0 cat plushie of yours.

and, sure, maybe once or twice he’s been lucid enough to register the subconscious kick of his leg and agumon’s subsequent fall to the floor — but he’ll still blame suguru in the morning. if only to see the way said man rolls his eyes, clicks his tongue, maybe flicks his forehead if he’s really lucky.)

high on the spirit of christmas, spurred on by childlike elation and sleep-deprivation, you stumble towards the door. satoru pulls one of his jackets over your shoulders, delighting in the way your hands don’t fully reach through the sleeves. wrapping you up in a cozy scarf when suguru shouts at you both to dress warmly, barely awake and already tired of your antics.

and the moment you step through the door, satoru is engulfed by it. that mystical, mystical feeling. 

a little lonely, a little too satisfying to pass up. a cold breeze that nips at his fingertips, snowflakes that brush against his cheeks and stick to his white lashes. a warm hand in his, as you cling to his side, shuddering — but smiling, as you look up at the sky, putting a hand out just to feel the snowflakes melt against the skin of your palm.

he feels you let go of him, but doesn’t mention it. a little too mesmerized to tug you back. dipping his toes into the bittersweet nostalgia of it all, staring at the flurry of white all around you, the skeletal branches of your apricot tree. suguru’s poor tulips. humming a jolly tune, subconsciously. a little delighted.

— until something cold and wet hits the exposed skin of his neck.

satoru twitches, a chilling shudder trickling down his spine. the snowball just thrown at him begins to melt, droplets sticking to his nape, and he turns to you with a raise of his brow. a devilish grin on his lips, when he hears your muffled laughter, sees the crinkle of your eyes.

(you’re cute, he thinks. but you need to be humbled.)

”oh, so that’s how you wanna play?” he drawls, eyes gleaming with amusement. taking a step forward, reaching down to gather some snow in his palm. a wide grin on his glossy lips. ”fine by me.” 

he's fast, but you act quickly, running towards the apricot tree with laughter in your throat. feeling the pitter patter of your heartbeat resound in your ears, as the snowball misses its mark by just a hair — and you waste no time in making your own.

it’s a hard-fought duel. snowfall blocking your vision, nerves beginning to numb, red cheeks and runny noses as you chase each other with giddy breaths. unfortunately for you, satoru’s arms are unfairly long, fingers unfairly nimble, and his stamina never even seems to falter.

so before long, your energy begins to dwindle. chest heaving, hands too cold to form a proper snowball, while your husband seems like he hasn’t even broken a sweat. they just keep on coming, snowball after snowball colliding with the fabric of your jacket, and when one of them hits your collarbone you squeal — falling backwards, right into a fresh pile of snow.

satoru moves forward, a triumphant smirk on his handsome face. you’re out of breath, and your hands are red, and he’s fairly certain you’re gonna catch a cold. suguru’s going to scold him, but right now all he can think of is you. the frown you’re wearing, the little huff that slips from your lips.

”ready to admit defeat, sweetheart?” he practically purrs, standing above you with his hands on his hips. smug. and you grin right back.

”never.”

a hum. something glimmers in his eyes, a devious little glint, and you come to regret your decision when satoru gathers a heap of snow with his overgrown arms; only to drop it all on top of you. too tired to fight back, all you can do is shield your face, silently accepting your fate.

a shiver wracks through your body, and satoru almost feels bad. just a tiny bit. but then you finally relent, murmuring bitterly under your breath. ”fine, fine…” a soft pout forms on your lips. ”you win.”

and satoru smiles. crouching down to meet you at eye level, on his knees in front of you. there’s a teasing mirth in his eyes, when he reaches out to cup the fat of your cheek. ”that’s all i wanted to hear, sweet pea,” he drawls, trying not to giggle when you exaggeratedly roll your eyes.

his voice curls down an octave when he continues, leaning forward to brush his nose against yours. hot breath against your chilled skin. ”now, for my prize…”

his lips meet yours, sweet and chaste — a little cheeky. you scoff into the kiss, but satoru’s smile only grows. honeyed, a little bit adoring. his tongue flits out to lick at your cold bottom lip.

he lingers, for a bit. like he’s trying to savour the way you taste, faded strawberry chapstick sticking to his lips, smudged against your own. and you sigh, softly, melting a little, comforted by the fleeting warmth that blossoms on your face. 

when he's finally satisfied, having dragged his prize out to its completion, satoru helps you up. brushing snowflakes off your jacket, cradling your ice-cold hands in his. they’re not faring much better, but a worried tug of his heartstrings compels him to warm you up. bringing them to his lips, hot breath fanning over your skin, tender little kisses against the knots of your knuckles.

you can’t help but blush, and a raspy chuckle flows from out his lips. 

hazy morning sunshine licks at the branches of the apricot tree behind you, illuminating the contours of your face, the shine of his eyes. a blue smudge on a canvas painted white and gray. the air smells of pine cones and something smokey, crisp. it courses through his burning lungs when he inhales, exhales, a breath of vapour that scatters up into the sky.

satoru loves winter. always has. but now, he’s certain he loves it even more.

because now, he has two people to share it with. two people to drag out into the snow, two people whose hands he can tenderly warm up, two people who’ll laugh and sigh at his antics and still indulge him. two people to pelt with snowballs. 

what more could a man want?

”hey, idiots!” 

the voice that echoes throughout the air is exasperated, a little teasing. yet fond. suguru’s got his hair tied into a messy half done bun, black turtleneck sweater enunciating his broad chest and the curve of his waist. there’s a fatigue in his eyes, the creases of his face, but a lazy smile is playing at his lips.

”i’m making breakfast,” he shouts, voice deep and smokey and soft even still. ”come in and warm up before you catch a cold.”

”is that any way to speak to your husband and spouse?” satoru chimes back, a melodic lilt to his sugarsweet voice. something satisfied. pleased.

suguru shoots him an unimpressed look, but his eyes soften. melting a little, at the words that spill from satoru’s lips, as if they were always meant to be there. 

(husband. spouse. suguru wills himself not to smile.)

with matching grins on your faces, the two of you stumble back towards the door. snow crunching beneath your feet, a happy noise pushing past your lips when you collide with the warmth of your husband’s chest.

”look, suguru. isn’t it pretty?” you chirp, smiling brightly. an expression he mirrors — brushing some snow from the top of your head, warm palms caressing your cold skin, setting a mental reminder to scold satoru later. sparing a brief glance at the snowy veil over reality.

then he exhales. a fond hum. ”it is.”

satoru joins you both by the door, stretching out his lanky limbs. tousled hair, wet strands sticking to his skin, reddened cheeks and a signature pout. ”suguru, my hands are cold,” he whines. ”warm ’em up for me?”

a click of his tongue. ”should’ve put some gloves on, satoru.”

a hum buzzes in your throat, and you put your hands out. itchy, a little dry. a sad frown tugs at your lips when you speak. ”my hands are also cold.”

and, like clockwork, suguru’s eyes soften. a coo tiptoeing on his tongue, engulfing your hands in his larger ones. ”aw, c’mere, my love…” his breath fans over your frozen fingertips. ”let’s get you warmed up, hm?”

satoru gasps, a hand on his chest, and you stifle a giggle. he’s acting, you both know, being a little drama queen. he knows you’re just exaggerating suguru’s double standard as a bit, that your husband would probably set himself on fire to warm either of you up.

despite that, his voice comes out thoroughly offended. ”oh, i see how it is,” he huffs, walking past the both of you. pouting deeply. ”you hate me. you hate me, and you want me to die. i understand.”

”satoru,” you coo. he hmphs, but stills, waiting for you to wrap your arms around him. and you do — a little too eager to appease your giant baby of a husband.

”we’re just joking around,” you assure him, holding back a humorous chuckle. squeezing his waist with palpable fondness. ”love you sooo much. you know that.”

satoru stays silent. but he cranes his neck, to meet suguru’s gaze, standing just behind him. narrowing his cobalt eyes — a meaningful look.

suguru sighs.

”yes, yes. we love you oh so much.” he takes a step forward, ruffling the white head of hair by the door. a lazy smile on his lips. ”now behave and go change out of your pyjamas. they’re soaked.”

his voice is teasing. exasperated, more than a little condescending. but it’s suguru, so satoru accepts it — following you both into the warmth of your home. the scent of cinnamon and vanilla hangs heavy in the air, a hint of espresso and firewood, lulling him into a sweet state of tranquility. rich with comfort, safety.

he changes out of his wet clothes, pulling a black hoodie over his head before waltzing into the kitchen. and you do the same, emerging from your bedroom in one of suguru’s cozy sweaters, knitted and smelling of bergamot. 

when suguru notices, his gaze shifts into something fond. palpable. a look satoru always finds in the scope of those warm eyes, amber and cedar bleeding into something sweet, only ever directed at the two of you. a look said man assumes goes unnoticed. he’s not as slick as he thinks.

the kitchen simmers with hazy sunlight and gentle movements, something sleepy and kind. satoru is a little bit enamored with it; from bowls of cat food by the corner, to camellias by the windowsill, cookie jars and dried lemon slices, the fading scent of baked goods and wishlists stuck to the fridge.

(yours and satoru’s are filled with scribbles, new ideas popping up daily, while suguru’s is almost entirely blank; mostly necessities, one or two things he’d like for himself.

and then, of course, the same thing he writes at the top of his wishlist every year; some peace and quiet.)

suguru shuffles around the kitchen, long strands of black hair cascading down his back, swaying with his movements. he sends you both an affectionate glance when you step in, already in the process of making satoru his cup of hot chocolate — topped with marshmallows and whipped cream, colorful sprinkles in the shape of tiny stars, a touch of cinnamon. satoru licks his lips.

when it's finished, the cup is promptly handed to him, paired with a tender kiss to his forehead. and suguru starts the meticulous brewing of your coffee, steady hands, finely chosen coffee beans, the low purring of the espresso machine. soothing.

that’s when you attach yourself to his back. wrapping your arms around his waist, a sleepy yawn muffled into the fabric of his turtleneck. he places a big palm on your hand, thumb smoothing over your knuckle, and you nuzzle into him silently. suguru smiles.

”still sleepy, baby?” he questions, a coo on the tip of his tongue. his voice is soft, palpably so, buzzing with warmth and safety and something that makes you want to stay cuddled up to him forever.

satoru senses an opportunity to insert himself into the conversation, and forces out a yawn of his own. stretching his limbs like a big cat, blinking drowsily, eyelashes fluttering. hoping it’ll come off as endearing. ”mhm.” 

but suguru shoots him an unimpressed look. ”not you,” he tuts, patting your arm, ”this baby. i wasn’t asking you.”

a pout. ”why are you so mean to me?” he whines, shooting you a doe-eyed look. bottom lip jutting out slightly, a feigned glassiness to his eyes. ”sweetie, tell your husband to stop being so mean to me.”

you smile. indulgent, as always. ”don't be so mean to him, suguru. you know he’s sensitive.”

a sigh. deep, tinged with exhaustion. satoru shares an amused look with you — stifling a shared chuckle at suguru’s exasperation.

and suddenly, he feels something warm flutter in his ribcage. a sunkissed butterfly, wings brushing against his ribs, coaxing his lips into curling up. unmistakable fondness, almost too much to bear. the need to reach out and touch you creeps up on him, a hunger he can’t deny, but he holds back; you look comfy like that, curled up against suguru’s spine. so he only inches closer, without a word. 

his husband casts him a glance, but satoru stays silent. lips pursed, waiting for something. patient.

and suguru relents. he reaches a hand out, to tuck a stray strand of white hair behind his ear — an excuse to touch him. a silent apology. 

(i'm sorry, you big baby.)

satoru grins.

you shift from foot to foot, leaning over to see what suguru is doing, pressing buttons and taking two ceramic cups out from a wall cabinet. your eyes zero in on a particular shelf, narrowing in suspicion, before flitting over to meet your husband’s gaze.

”satoru, did you use up all my peppermint sweeteners again?”

he stiffens. just a tad, before swallowing a gulp — followed by a silly chuckle, sheepish and performative, eager to wiggle his way out of your cold gaze. ”… which sweeteners do you mean, honey?”

”don’t pull the ’honey’ card.”

”and don’t play dumb, either.”

a pout crosses his lips. betrayed. ”suguru, who’s side are you even on?”

said man gives him a look. that one look, characteristically suguru, the same one he always sends satoru’s way. one so thoroughly unimpressed it makes him feel like the world’s biggest clown. 

and satoru plays along. your dutiful, beloved clown, his posture wilting like a sad flower. suguru exhales through his nose.

”don’t steal their sweeteners.” he smooths a thumb over your knuckle, absentminded, meeting the cold metal of the ring on your finger. smiling a little at the sensation. ”buy your own.”

satoru huffs, drawn out and childish. crossing his arms, leaning against the kitchen counter. ”ah, i see how it is. leaving your sweet husband to buy his own sweeteners?” he clicks his tongue. ”chivalry is dead.”

you bite back a little chuckle — satoru recognizes the cute noise you make when you do — and suguru rolls his eyes. fondly, always. ”remind me next time i go to the store and i’ll consider it.”

”hmph.”

suguru is smiling. it’s small, but genuine, worth a thousand words. and you are, too, the vague crinkle of your eyes giving you away. even as you bury your face in the curve of suguru’s back.

and ah, satoru thinks. there it is again. 

that sickeningly sweet sense of deja vu; the sensation of a certain something flourishing deep inside his chest. warming him up, trickling through his frost-bitten veins. that one little itch he never manages to satisfy, that never goes away, something that took root inside his heart years ago — watered by the sweet looks on your faces.

this everyday slice of heaven, right in front of him, that he’s been greedily partaking in ever since he moved in with you. since he married you.

(married.)

sometimes he still can’t believe it. 

”it’ll be done in a minute,” suguru hums, and satoru blinks. broken out of his syrupy stupor. ”you two go wait by the kotatsu, okay? must be cold, poor babies.” 

and, as always, his voice is a little teasing. a tiny bit condescending, if you really strain your ears, in typical suguru fashion. but it’s laced with a touch of sweetness; one that would be too much for either of you to stomach, if it were to drip out of his lips with nothing to water it down. so satoru accepts it. welcomes it, even.

and you follow his suggestion. making your way towards the living room, satoru trailing behind you, continuously enamored by every little thing he sees. every little piece of the home you’ve built for yourselves.

your living room is cozy. several potted plants seated here and there, a thick quilt to cover the kotatsu, a bowl of satsumas on top of it. a sleepy cat on your couch, golden sunshine ruffling her fur. a santa hat lies beside her, and satoru snags it without much thought. pulling it over his head.

his gaze shifts to the christmas tree over in the corner, eyes filling with a childlike kind of wonder. it’s decorated to completion, weighed down by colourful ornaments and lights, a star at the very top. suguru cut it himself, bringing the biggest and prettiest one he could find back home.

(satoru had gone with him. partially to help carry it back, mostly to get a glimpse of suguru's biceps flexing with the swing of the axe. he’s a simple man.)

and beneath it, presents are already beginning to pile up. carefully wrapped, in bows and silken paper, growing more each day. shattering suguru’s hopes of maybe having a more lowkey christmas this year — but satoru couldn’t be more relieved. this is the only time of year you let him get away with pampering you both to his heart’s content.

a smile blooms on his lips. he plops down on the floor, crossing his legs, right as suguru walks in with a coffee pot in hand. their gazes overlapping.

and something mischievous begins to brew within the blue of his eyes, something that makes suguru narrow his own. satoru pats his thigh, twice, a coo on the tip of his tongue. santa hat sitting pointedly on top of his head, fluffing up his hair.

”c’mere, suguru! sit on santa’s lap.”

”— you’re disgusting.”

the words are playful, but a pout still slips into the curve of satoru’s lips, and he huffs out a displeased little breath. his husband pretends not to hear it, so satoru turns to you — sitting so prettily to his right, already anticipating his next move. puppy dog eyes on full display, he gives you a soft tilt of his head, snowy tufts of hair falling over his eyes.

and you sigh, in what he knows is resignation. his faux pout turning into a satisfied grin.

you curl up in satoru’s lap without much of a fuss, letting him circle his arms around you. an indulgent smile rests on your lips, but he knows you love this; his broad chest against your back, the heat of the kotatsu warming your feet. breathing in the fading scent of your shampoo, he leaves a peck on the sensitive spot right behind your ear, and you try not to shudder.

then satoru smiles. squeezing you, lightly, sweetly, eyes rich with honeyed affection. voice dripping with playful endearment. ”there we go,” he coos. ”what does my angel want for christmas, hm?” 

”i want you to stop stealing my peppermint sweeteners,” comes your answer. instantaneous.

silence fills the room. a moment passes. outside your frosted windows, a bird takes flight from the branches of your apricot tree. and satoru clicks his tongue.

”… santa can only do so much, baby.”

two deep scoffs fill the air, heavy and bemused. one from you, one from suguru. satoru only giggles.

”just kidding!” he chirps, planting a kiss on the top of your head. ”don’t you worry. santa’ll give you all the peppermint sweeteners you could ever want.” 

you raise a brow, exhaling amusedly. craning your head to meet his gaze. ”and he won’t end up using them all himself?”

”of course not! blasphemy.” 

a moment passes.

”… maybe one or two. as a treat.”

a string of protests slips from your lips, and satoru tries not to burst into a fit of giggles. suguru just watches, silently, smiling lightly as he pours hot coffee into two ceramic cups. steam wafting up to the ceiling, a cat jumping down from the couch to curl up in his lap. he places one in front of you, not taking a single sip of his own until he hears you hum blissfully at the taste — pink lips against white ceramic. a bitter taste on his tongue, sweetened by your approval.

then he starts peeling three satsumas, absentmindedly, and satoru swallows down the love-ridden honey choking up the back of his throat. pretending the domesticity of such a simple action doesn’t melt his heart down to the marrow. 

he turns his attention towards the window. frost sticking to the glass like spider-woven webs, soon to be melted by the glow of the mellow winter sunrays. flitting in through the curtains, cascading over the room, splattering across the floorboards. framing the hue of your hair, the smile on suguru’s lips.

and a memory comes to him. sudden, hazy, faded at the edges. ghosting his subconscious.

he remembers the frost, the biting wind, the frightening majesty of the snow that fell that day. breaking into his world through a rift in the stratosphere. he remembers the contrasting warmth of the person who held him, who cradled him close; the soft lull of a woman’s voice. 

for a moment, satoru thinks he can almost, almost see it before him. hear those gentle words, see her tired smile. why was she always so tired?

(look, satoru. isn’t it pretty?)

— he can’t recall how it sounded. if it was melodic and soft, or raspy and broken, happy or sad. but he does recall that it made him feel safe. safe enough to find comfort in a sight so other-worldly, so very foreign.

it should’ve been frightening, but it wasn’t. the first snowfall satoru ever saw knocked the breath from out his lungs, stole his heart with cold hands, left him with a suffocating nostalgia. but the memory is precious.

and now, he feels that sense of other-worldliness in this; a kotatsu for three, a warm house, peeled satsumas and promises of a christmas cake soon to be baked. one lovely spouse in his lap, the other gazing at him with that fond look he always assumes goes unnoticed. a cocoon of safety — a ghost he doesn’t need to chase anymore.

warmth. enough warmth to make up for the snow and frost outside your home, all the experiences he missed out on as a child. warmth, warmth, warmth. funny, how that happens to be satoru’s favorite thing about winter. 

he looks at the two of you, hoping you won’t pay any mind to his silence. for once, he hopes you’ll stay wrapped up in your awful, awful coffee, so bitter that just looking at it makes his throat feel dry. just so he can get away with admiring you for a little longer. from the contours of suguru’s face, to the skin of your collarbone, to the rings on your fingers. ones he put there himself. 

and ah, satoru thinks, there it is again. again and again, as always, forever. that warm, warm feeling flourishing in the depths of his chest. 

he hopes it never goes away.

[i-cant-sing]

Yandere Batfam x reader who cant feel pain

HEhehehe i just remembered a disease and I just had to write about a reader with it x yandere batfam.

Have you guys heard of CIPA? Its "Congenital insensitivity to pain with anhidrosis" which is basically a genetic condition when a patient cant feel pain to any noxious stimulus and can also not sweat, and yall are probably like "but SNoWWW, that doesnt like a diSEase. More like a superpower!!!" um no. You need to be able to feel pain or else you wont know what part of your body has been injured and get help before its too late. You could have thumbtack plunged in your foot and u wouldnt know unless it got infected and u probably saw ur foot changing color.

And now yall are like "but SNoWw, the anhidrosis part, where u cant sweat, sounds nice! who would to look like a sweaty pig in this age????" NO! Sweating is a necessary physiologic phenomenon because it lets your body cool down as it releases heat. If you dont sweat, you'd overheat and DIE!

Okay now that we've covered the basic info, lets get into it:

So, Batfam finds out about reader when she's just running into danger with little to no care for self preservation, and they dismiss it as you being just another dumb teen wanting to be hero and "change the world". Time passes by and Bruce is impressed by your passion and decides to take you under his wing.

It isnt until months later that Bruce discovers something odd about your behaviour. You were standing in the kitchen with the rest of the batkids, laughing and having a good time when he saw Dick had pulled out a hot pan of cookies from the oven and placed it on the aisle. The pan slipped, and without thinking, you had grabbed the hot pan with your bare hands very calmly and placed it back on the aisle, without so much as a hiss of pain or even a sweat.

And now that he thinks about it, Bruce has never seen you sweat. Not during training, not during summer, not even when after you ran laps around the mansion.

With a quick search on the Internet, he finds out about the disease and of course its Dick who he confides in first about his suspicions. Soon, the rest of the batfam has heard the rumours and now they're all watching you keenly to see if its true.

But Jason is the one who tests out the theory quickly by spilling some hot tea on your hand when you were busy talking to Tim about the importance of sleep. The room goes dead silent as they watch your hand turn red, yet you fail to react. It took you a few seconds to realise that they're all looking at you, and when you follow their gaze, it takes you a few seconds to react.

Or fake a reaction.

You shriek, pulling your reddening hand as you run to the sink and run it under cold water, your mind trying to come up with an excuse. But you know its too late when Bruce's hand comes to clasp your shoulder, pulling you away from the sink as his eyes examine your injured hand and... you.

"Bruce I-"

"I know, Y/n." He gives you assuring nod, carefully bandaging your hand as you sat in his office. "You have CIPA, hm?"

You looked down. Why bother lying? He's Batman, he'll find out anyways.

Bruce lifted your head and smiled gently at you. "Its okay. I'm not disappointed in you. I just... you could've told me." You shook your head. "If I did, you would've treated me differently... like a freak."

He sighed. "You are different, but I would've never treated you like a freak. You're not a freak. If anything, between us, I'm more of a freak than you." He was talking about being a hero, but you giggled at the thought of him referring to being a rich dude who cosplays in spandex.

Bruce cupped your cheek and smiled. "I promise, no one will treat you like a freak. But we will have to take some precautions for your safety."

-

He lied. You've never felt more like a freak than you do now.

Every single day would start off with Dick waking you up and sticking a thermometer in your mouth because he needs to make sure that you're not overheating, even though Bruce has set a thermostat in your room that he controls and he's programmed it to turn your room temperature change by the hour.

Then Dick would start checking you all over for any bruises or injuries, even a scratch, that you may have caused yourself in your sleep. Originally, Damian was the one who had a whole checklist as he examined your body, but that all ended the moment you smacked him when he asked you to lift your shirt. Dick would just have you go and check yourself in the bathroom and trust you when you said you're all good. Also, you're much nicer to Dick than you are to the rest of the brothers (its his puppy dog eyes and that sweet voice that compels you to do as he asks. He's just too nice.)

Dick would then lead you to down for breakfast with the family, where Alfred already has your glucometer out because of course, they must check your blood sugar level every day, lest they find out you're diabetic or something. Only then would you be served your meal, which is a highly nutritous, perfeclty seasoned, balanced dish because they want to make sure you dont have any vitamin deficiencies (because how would they know???? you dont feel pain). But you cant eat just yet. No no, whichever brother is closer, most often Jason, will first taste your food to make sure its not too hot to consume (because you dont realise you've burned the roof of your mouth that one time when Tim ate a slice of pizza that was fresh out of the oven and huppahhuffpuhh the morsel out). Jason would then give you the go to eat and you finally do. You make sure to finish the whole plate (because otherwise Bruce will make note of it and then interrogate you "medically" why you didnt feel like eating all of it?)

After breakfast, while the rest of the batkids get to go to school and work, you dont (because Bruce thinks that your immune system could be weak and he cant risk you catching any diseases from the outside.) No, you get a special trip to the infirmary where Bruce and Alfred do a more thorough medical check up, taking your vitals, JOTTING IT DOWN, while Alfred hooks you up to an IV drip of vitamins. And even though they go to such extents to ensure that you're healthy, they still take you to a skilled doctor once a week for regular check ups. Bruce wanted to keep the doctor in the house to do daily check ups, but you talked him out of it that you dont want to feel like a lab rat who has her blood taken every day. Once a week is fine, Bruce.

Once the medical check up is done, Bruce would then take you with him, either to Wayne enterprises where you sit in his office as he imparts you "business education that no school can teach you." which you believe because... well he has managed to triple the Wayne wealth even after his parents death. If he's working from home, then he'll let you accompany him in his home office where you can either read a book he chose for you (because Bruce prefers to homseschool you himself) or do a puzzle/case he created specifically for you. If he's working in the batcave, then he'll let you tag along but you can only work here by brainstorming or doing some computer research, but in no way are you allowed to ever go on field and fight. No, not since your last incident.

Just 2 months ago, you were patrolling with Jason (because Bruce refused to let you go alone now. He just wont risk it) and you encountered some bad guys who were a little more well equipped than you two had expected. A fight broke out, and in the process you got hurt badly. Of course, you didnt realise it because you didnt feel any of the punches or the bone fracturing. Jason could only look at you in dread as you smashed your head against the villain's head until the guy passed out, all while your nose bled, you were covered in bruises from top to bottom, AND you had a bone sticking out of your arm.

"Jay? I think I'm hurt?" You asked as blood coated your teeth.

After that, Bruce forbid you from going out on the field altogether because you just dont know when to stop. If it werent for bones sticking out or blood dripping down your face, you wouldnt know that you've been injured.

Anyways, at lunch, almost everyone has returned from work/school and you get yet another balanced meal (temperature tested by another brother). You're now scheduled for some exercises, usually conducted by Damian (under Dick's supervision because otherwise, you'd just be smacking that devil's spawn.) You guys use the gym in the basement, where Damian makes you run on the treadmill for some time, during which he does not take his eyes off you once because he needs to know when he should stop you, especially since you dont sweat or are even huff. If he didnt keep time, you could probably run for a long time and not realise that your legs or lungs are begging you to stop and take a break. As you hop off the machine, he's immediately taking your temperature. He does it after every exercise he makes you do.

After that is done, you spend time with Tim who likes to have you try on little gadgets that should "help you feel pain", but so far, he hasnt had any luck (but he doesn seem to be doing good in disguising trackers in your daily wear things). Oh and Damian loves to join in because he gets to sneak up on you and prick you with needles to help Tim see if your sensory pathways work. They dont, but you dont need your pain receptors to detect Damian coming up behind you as you smack him when he tries to prick you.

Then dinner is served, and then you're ushered straight to bed where Dick, or more often- Bruce has you do a self check like the one Dick does in the morning, but Bruce also makes sure to check your eyes to see if you "accidentally scratched your cornea" or whatever, tucks you in, tells you that he's so proud of you for how youre handling this and that you can come to him anytime, for anything. He kisses your forehead, wishes you goodnight, and leaves.

Half an hour later, Jason sneaks into your room with the goodies- junk food and video games. You two have the strongest bond because Jason is the one who treats you the most normal, and Jason does it partly to piss off Bruce but partly because he cares about your mental health. He knows it cant be good for you to be cooped up in the mansion under supervision like a bird in a gilded cage.

So sometimes, he sneaks you out of the mansion and takes you out on late night rides on his bike. You can even watch him fight villains, but you're sat far away and can never interferre.

Unfortunately for you two, this sneaking out will have to end because Bruce had recently decided to set up some cameras in your room because he wanted to make sure you slept well without any abnormal breathing patterns. Bruce hopes he doesnt have to use restraints on you, because he's not blind. He knows you're uncomfortable with this intricate routine and knowing your impulsive self, you'd probably break your own bones to get out of these restraints. And then he'll be forced to use sedatives and he really doesnt wanna rely on drugs... he likes your company when you're not droopy.

And as Bruce had anticipated, you broke down. You finally tried to leave, and he could see the color draining your face as you realised that there is no leaving.

"Why isnt the door opening?" You asked Bruce, as his four sons slowly surrounded you.

"You dont have to run away, Y/n-" He tried to calm you down but you flinched away, eyes wide as you looked at him like he was going to harm you.

"Bruce, why isnt the fucking door opening?" Your voice trembled, shooting him teary glare before focusing your eyes back on the boys who were closing in on you.

"You're meant to stay here, inside, where its safe." He answered, heart aching at the alarmed stance you took, your fight-or-flight was going to kick in. He took another step towards you, hands raised in surrender. "We can keep you safe-" thats all it took for you to bolt as the boys began chasing you. Realistically, you knew you couldnt escape them but something about their intensely concerned calls for your name had you jumping out of the window.

Glass shattered and sharp shards embedded themselves in your skin and feet, but you didnt react to them. No, your brain wasnt screaming in pain, it was screaming for you to get out!

Adrenaline pumped you to run into the dark woods surrounding the mansion, but you were soon knocked to the ground by Dick, who cushioned your fall by placing you on top of him as his hands wrapped around your form like a cage. "Y/n, calm down and listen-"

You began thrashing in his arms, screaming in agony. "Let ME GO! YOU'RE HURTING ME-!" Dick's arms loosened instinctively and you took that as a chance to elbow him in the throat and run, thanking some deity for letting Dick forget that you cant feel pain.

But your relief is short lived as Damian catches you and pushes you to the ground harshly. "Damian! Be careful! She could break a bone-"

"Bones can heal, Drake." Damian barked back, pulling you up before he pushed you against tree. "Let me go, you maniac-" Damian's hand clamped around your throat, making you shut up. "You're the one who's a maniac. Look at you! You've fucking hurt yourself because if your astounding stupidity!"

You whimpered, clawing at his hand wrapped around your throat. "Dami- p-please let go- you're hurting me!" You cried out, but your eyes went wide as he squeezed your throat and bared his teeth at you. "Not falling for it, dumbass." So... fooling Damian wasnt as easy a feat as it was fooling Dick.

You stopped the act and looked at him dead serious. "Let me go, Damian, or-"

"Or what?"

Or what? Or what? Did he think you were out of options? Out of escape plans?

You dont know why, but that triggered something inside you.

Damian and Tim could only watch as you suddenly slammed the back of your head against the tree. "Y/n-" He gasped in horror as you leaned your head forward before slamming it back against the hard rough surface. This time, Damian's hand that was wrapped around your neck felt your blood around his fingers.

"Its my life and I get to decide how I should live it." You sneered before raising your head again to bash it, but Damian's hand quickly slipped from your neck to the back of your head, cushioning it when you smacked it back, the skin on the back of his hand breaking as it made contact with the bark.

You pushed him away and tried to make a run for it, but Tim grabbed your wrist. You tried to pull away, but he had a death grip on it. "Y/n, stop! You need to listen-"

"Oh is that so? I think I need this." You used your other hand to punch yourself in the face (because Tim would've dodged it if you punched him), making your nose bleed. But you didnt feel any pain, and now you were acting like a super soldier zombie that has no concept of self preservation who is going through fucked up lengths to prove her point.

Your eyes caught the sight of a glass shard poking out of your thigh. "Wanna see something cool?" You pulled out the shard, not paying mind to the blood oozing out. "Y/n, stop-" Tim begged, and you saw Damian froze in the back as you raised the shard.

They didnt know what your next target was- slashing your wrists, slitting your throat, or stabbing your stomach, but fortunately, they didnt have to find out as Jason came up behind you and injected you with a tranquilliser.

Sadly, you never felt the prick or sensed the hero sneaking up behind you.

thoughts? also, what other diseases would u guys like me to write for. i just adore these cool medical abnormalities lol

[playnextdoor]

her lil present

summary: christmas eve plans got canceled, you cheer abby up

cw: domestic abby yesyesyeyeysyseyysehydse, cursing, suggestive material, nipple sucking (r! receiving), readers chest referred to as boobs, this is really cheesy but idc. also the link i put in isnt working, but the lingerie i am referring to is the "adore me gynger dark red bow set".. tumblr doesnt want me to be great

Growing up, Christmas Eve was the heart of the holiday for your family, a night that overshadowed Christmas Day itself. The house would fill with laughter and warmth, friends and family gathering around dinner before the main event: opening presents as the clock struck midnight. Abby had been stunned the first time she attended one of these celebrations at your parent’s house a few years ago, but ever since, she hadn’t missed a single one. Sure, the two of you still joined her family at church the following morning, but this tradition, your tradition, had become her favorite part of the holidays.

This year, however, Christmas Eve looked a little different. Snowed in at your home, over a hundred miles away from the dinner table of your childhood, your plans were canceled along with your flight. Surprisingly, Abby seemed more disappointed than you. She still helped you prepare a modest dinner for the two of you, though, mashing the potatoes with a slump of her shoulders and exaggerated sighs.

By the time evening settled in, Abby had claimed her spot on the living room couch, bundled up in her green buffalo plaid pajamas. Her pout made it clear she missed the usual festivities as she watched some cheesy Christmas movie you put on. As midnight crept closer, you told her to wait for the gifts, teasing her growing impatience. She practically shoved you away as you left to grab the gifts, laughing, clearly amused by your attempt to replicate your family’s traditions.

Deep down, though, a part of you buzzed with excitement. Tonight wasn’t about the usual big gathering, it was just the two of you. Something about that felt... intimate, special. As Abby settled deeper into the couch, you slipped to the bedroom, heart racing.

Rummaging through the pink shopping bag hidden under your bed, you pulled out the surprise, a gift you’d been planning for days. It took some effort to tie and adjust everything just right, but when you finally caught your reflection in the mirror, you couldn’t help the grin spreading across your face. She was going to love this. You spritzed on the musky, sweet perfume Abby adored, adjusted your hair a bit, and swiped on a bit of chapstick. Finally, you draped her oversized navy robe over yourself, the fabric nearly grazing the floor.

“All good, babe?” Abby’s voice called out from the living room, startling you.

“Yeah! Just a sec!” you shouted back, your voice a little too high pitched as you grabbed the bag of her gifts and carefully made your way out.

When you entered the living room, Abby’s brows lifted as she took in the sight of you, almost tripping over yourself with the bag in hand. The thud it made on the hardwood floor broke the tension as you giggled, moving toward her. Gently, you nudged her hands aside to sit on her lap, straddling her with ease.

“Don’t say something you’ll regret,” you teased, leaning in to press a lingering kiss to her lips. You felt her smile against your mouth as her hands instinctively found your waist.

“Yes, ma’am,” she murmured, a mischievous smirk playing on her face. Her fingers grazed the tie of the robe, tugging it slightly. “What’s this, huh?”

You swallowed hard, suddenly shy. “Your gift,” you mumbled, slithering her out of her grasp to stand, poking your foot against hers. Her eyes stayed locked on yours, soft yet with curiosity, while her hand fiddled with the knot of the robe.

“Lemme see,” she whispered, her voice thick with anticipation as she gave the tie another gentle tug, this time pulling you closer.

“Hold on!” you laughed, swatting her hands away as you stood. Her gaze didn’t leave you, though, if anything, it darkened. Her body language shifted into something more deliberate, predatory even. She leaned back against the couch, legs spread wide, watching you with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

Taking a steadying breath, you slowly slipped the robe off your shoulders, letting it fall in a pool of fabric around your feet. Beneath it was the lingerie set you’d been eyeing all month, a deep crimson material wrapped so delicately around the softness of your body, complete with a playful bow tied across both your boobs and your ass.

“Do you like it?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper as you clasped your hands behind your back, fidgeting with the ribbon. You felt a little silly, standing there so exposed, but the way Abby’s jaw dropped made you forget your nerves.

“I—” she started, but her words trailed off as her gaze roamed over every inch of you. You could practically see the gears turning in her head, her pupils blown wide as she struggled to form a coherent thought.

Your lips curled into a teasing pout. “What about the back, hmm?” you asked, turning around to show off the bow on your ass. You glanced over your shoulder, catching her slack jawed expression. The silence stretched on, and your confidence wavered. “Abby?” you prompted, voice tinged with nervous laughter.

When her eyes finally met yours, they were filled with warmth that sent a flutter through your chest.

"You’re really something, huh?” Abby murmured, her voice low and full of awe and with the sexiest fucking smile. Her gaze dropped, lingering unapologetically on your chest, where the knot of the lingerie squeezed your curves, at your boobs teasingly spilling over. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, and your breath hitched.

Feeling bold, you stepped closer, her hands warm as you guided them to your hips. Straddling her lap, you leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her temple before whispering in her ear, “All for you.”

Her breath hitched as you cradled her head to your chest, her arms tightening around your waist. You could feel the rise and fall of her chest quicken, her grip turning possessive. You tilted her face up with a gentle tug of her hair, her clouded eyes locking onto yours as you smiled. “All of this is for you,” you repeated, your voice soft yet firm, leaving no room for doubt.

Your fingers slid down to the bow at your chest, the silky fabric cool against your skin as you slowly tugged at the ribbon. Abby’s eyes widened, her lips parting slightly as she watched the knot come undone.

Abby watches, so eager and nearly crying at how beautiful you are and how lucky she is to see you like this. Your skin was warm, the slight tremor of your hands as you tried your best to put up this sexy front despite your shyness. She knows and fuck how good you were doing for her

“Fuuuck me,” she groans, lips finding your neck, nips, and licks trailing to your tits, sucking your nipple into her warm mouth. You nearly double over as she licks and sucks and licks and sucks- quiet groans leaving your mouth. Your fingers run through her loose bun, raking them just right as she whines into your chest. She swallowed hard, her pupils blown with hunger. “You’re unreal,” she whispered, her voice thick.

“Abby,” you gasped, your fingers threading through her hair, tugging just enough to earn a needy whimper. She didn’t let up, her hands sliding to your thighs as her mouth worked tirelessly, the soft groans spilling from you only spurring her on.

“Holy fu-ah, hold on,” Abby gasps as she stops abruptly, the back of her hand finding her mouth as she wipes the lingering saliva. 

“Why’d you stop?” you asked breathlessly, your chest heaving as you cupped her cheek. Abby’s dazed expression, with her eyes half-lidded and lips parted, her breathing uneven, made your heart flutter. She looked utterly wrecked, and you loved it.

“Because,” she rasped, her voice low and sultry, “I need you in the bed. I can’t fuck you properly here.”

Before you could process her words, Abby stood abruptly, her movements so quick that you almost lost your balance. She reached for your hips, her strong hands sliding down to cup your ass as she tried to lift you. Laughing softly, you pressed a hand against her chest to stop her.

“What about the gifts?” you teased, a knowing smile tugging at your lips. You couldn’t resist playing with her just a little longer.

Her head tilted as she gave you that look, her brows lifting in that classic ‘really?’ expression that always made you melt. “You’re asking about the gifts?” she said, her tone dripping with disbelief, though the playful glint in her eyes betrayed her amusement.

Without another word, Abby scooped you up with ease, cradling you against her chest as though you weighed nothing. Her grin widened as she turned toward the bedroom. “Trust me,” she murmured, her voice husky with affection and want, “I’m already holding the best gift of the night.”

a/n: feliz nochebuena/merry christmas eve/happy holiday! this is a quick lil blurb i wanted to write as soon as I saw this set at my local adore me, its so freaking cute. hope you enjoy <3333

[impyssadobsessions]

Here's a comic depicting a snippet of a story Idea I have. >w<

(Link to Reference Art I made of Danny) Danny comes across Clockwork's lair, see's some visions of a past he wasn't quite sure of whose, before being dropped down a hole where CW cryptically fills him in as to why he had summon him. Thus dropping Danny into this new world with only knowing he has to save a guy name Dante- and defeat Pariah again. He falls through a roof of a thrift store- fights some skeleton demons with the racks after learning something is weird with his powers as he cannot change into phantom and his body feels weird. His clothes get ripped and tatter thus him "borrowing" clothes and walking out to see the extent of what Pariah has already done.

Which causes him to run into a big bull demon and fights him one to one- while learning the new limitations on his powers/how they work in this world. Spoiled below more ideas that are very rough and not set in stone. That I copied and pasted from my word document- which was just hastily written down as to not forget.

Danny is summon for another favor for Clockwork- CW isnt in the tower but screens of timelines are playing around the room. Danny thinks some of them are cool- wondering when and where that is- until he see one of a woman running with a baby in her arms. Cut back to danny who falls through a hole in the ground and winds up falling into a thrift store. His form has changed and his powers don't really work how they were suppose to. Maybe instead following Pariah into the demon world- finding himself in same scenario. Maybe CW gives only cryptic word help dante. But dante supposedly still gone so meets nero instead. Nero over time realizes Danny might not be human- doesn't think ghost- but assume Danny might be Dante's son... for various reasoning. ---Maybe CW is split in two reason Danny was able to live on the other side. (because of legend of Pariah having been banished to in between because he was feared by demons- only for him to take over new world and being sealed there. Chronos was part of the reason he got banished. ) -Pariah Dark being big bad. But once Danny wins title of king the curse tries to bind him. Then Clockwork stabs him to the ground with his staff- essentially winning the title and being sealed away with Pariah. Danny is rescued by Dante, and he uses the staff to slow the closing of the portal. Everyone safe and rescued. Danny stands where the portal was and cries. Overwhelmed by information and also realizing he has no way back home.

--- Also thought of an idea for a sequel idea- where Danny is in a comatose state but it is revealed after a seemingly heartwarming scene of Dante and Danny watching the sunset peacefully as father and son. Then Nero arrives to pick up Danny. Dante reveals that they know where the guy who did this to danny is and how to get Danny back to normal. (Vergil having scouted ahead) Dante leaves to help clear out the problem leaving Nero with literal dead weight as Nero has to take Danny's lifeless body to the lair- Danny slowly regaining some motion as he gets closer to his-self. Nero at first saying Danny owes him big time- but as it goes on Nero like- hey don't pay it back all in one go- I still need at least one favor so I could spend a nice night with kyrie. (Because Danny uses his blood to help Nero fight back the ghosts- and then him phasing them through a collapsed ceiling while still in a coma like state) Very Nero centric taking care of Danny- and whose been taking the most care of Danny. So very much him just talking one sided to Danny but seriously hoping for the best. And to clock the guy who did this. Which my idea that it be actually Dan ;3 who split Danny apart.

[starsinthesky5]

nothing's gonna hurt you baby || joe burrow x reader

description: the first game of the season doesn't go as planned and it kills you to see joe like this. you can't help but feel deja vu...

a/n: ahem, is this thing on 🎤🎤.  i'm backkkkk… after a much-needed tiny break (not planned just life getting in the way). this is a little something i cooked up! still working on "taste" which is a slow work in progress but that's the main next fic that'll be coming soon!

as always, thanks for reading & showing love :)))) i hope this wasn’t too much yapping and nonsense lol. the smut isnt my best because i wrote it while i was half asleep but i hope you enjoy it. there’s also plenty of song references throughout the fic (biggest one and the inspiration being this CAS song)

warnings: angst, fluff, smut. that's literally the whole fic :)

word count: 12.2 k

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

You leaned back against the wall across from the entrance to the locker rooms, anxiously picking at a thumbnail on your finger as you waited for your boyfriend to come out so you two could go home. You were standing in your orange halter crop top with a little '9' embroidered on the bottom left side and matching white jean shorts with the same '9' embroidered in orange on the back right pocket. The '9' on your shorts was a little bigger than the one on your top which Joe loved because according to him ‘everyone knows who your ass belongs to’. His adorable possessive nature was always something you admired and appreciated. He was very secure in your relationship and knew nobody would take you from him, but that didn't stop him from ensuring everyone knew you were his at any chance he got. 

You were also wearing orange stiletto knee-high boots which adds to the overall orange vibe of your game-day outfit. The theme was 'open in orange' so you were wearing as much orange as you could possibly make look cute. Your '9' necklace was the only piece of jewelry you had around your neck, and your wrists were decked out with bracelets given to you by Joe–each one even more polished and expensive than the previous one, and various rings on your fingers. Your favorite one, the beautiful promise ring Joe gave you for your 2nd anniversary, shined brighter than any of the jewelry you had on. It was a ‘secret garden’ inspired ring, one of your favorite books of all time. 

There was a growing pit in your stomach as you stood there gazing at the large ‘B’ on the wall outside the locker room, a slow-burning sensation that started about two minutes into the game, and it was only getting bigger as the minutes passed by. By the end of the game, you were the most on edge you had ever been in your entire life. 

Since this was Joe's first real game back after his wrist injury, your anxiety was already pretty bad by the time you got to the stadium. Your brain was swarmed with 'what-if?' scenarios and it was eating you alive. Joe, however, seemed the exact opposite of you. He was completely calm, normal, and focused like this was any other game. His peaceful temperament wasn't surprising since he had always been like this before every game but it also should've been expected since he worked through most of his emotions with you the night before and didn’t have anything left to get out. You on the other hand did a complete 360; you were so calm with him last night but right now you were on the verge of ripping your eyelashes out. 

Flashback to the night before

You reached over to grab your glass of water, taking a big sip to help wash down the spicy chicken you were eating for dinner. You looked up at Joe as you were swallowing your water, noting how he was playing around with his food on his unusually full plate. You had been eating for almost 15 minutes and by now, his plate should be empty given how much of an animal he was once dinner rolled around. 

“Not hungry?” you broke the unusual silence and asked. 

Joe's eyes glanced up to meet yours, his cheeks burning because you took note of his behavior, which you weren't supposed to. “Uhh, not really,”  he sighed as he placed his fork down and leaned back in his chair, his sweaty hands sliding up and down his thighs out of nervousness. 

“You do know you have a game tomorrow, right?” you chuckled as you placed your fork down and leaned back in your chair like he was. “You need all the protein you can get,”.

“...Y- yeah, I know,” Joe mumbled after a few seconds of uneasy silence. 

You instantly noticed the change in his body language at the mention of the game; the way his eyes fell down to his lap after his mumbling response, the way he started bouncing his left leg, his shoulders tensing up a little bit, the way he was constantly doing something with his hands as if he was uncomfortable, the way he was chewing at his bottom lip. These were all things Joe did when he was feeling anxious. 

But why was he anxious?

“Hey, you okay?” you asked while leaning forward again, his body language making you worry.

“Yeah, I'm fine,” he swallowed, still not meeting your eyes. He knew all it took was for you to get one look at his eyes to figure out he was lying and he really didn't want to burden you with his complicated emotions tonight. 

“He’s lying,” you thought to yourself. The fact that he was avoiding eye contact with you was a dead giveaway. “Joe?” you said while lowering your head to get into his view. 

“Yeah?” he said, his voice slightly trembling as he finally looked into your eyes. 

“Why are you lying to me?” you said as your face dropped at the sight of his tired eyes and shaky voice. 

“I’m not ly-,” he began to say before you interrupted him.

“Yeah, you are,” you interrupted. “I know you, remember. I know you better than you know yourself,” you softly laughed. 

You weren’t wrong there, you did know Joe better than he knew himself and he was the first one to admit it. You knew exactly what he was thinking, exactly how to put his feelings into words even when he couldn’t do so himself, and exactly how to handle him. There was a reason why you were the only person he let into the bubble that he had around himself once football started back up. You were his shelter in the hurricane that became his life once he was back on the field and without you, Joe would be a mess. 

Your response earned no reaction from Joe, he just sat there in silence and continued to bounce his leg up and down as he started to play with the wristbands on his wrist, yet another anxiety-related mannerism. 

You let out a tired breath, “I’m not doing this, I can’t have him shut me out again,” you thought to yourself before scooting your chair back, walking around the dining table, and sitting down on the seat next to him. You turned your chair to face him and grabbed his hands, feeling the thin layer of sweat that coated his palms which made your heart hurt. 

“Joe, it’s just us right now. Nothing’s gonna hurt you baby, talk to me,” you said while giving his hands a soft squeeze. You were feeling deja vu right now, you found yourself in the same situation you found yourself in many times over the early months of the off-season, only then it was 10 times worse than it was right now. 

Joe looked into your eyes, his body feeling heavy as self-doubt, anxiety, and fear crept into his mind. He was nervous about tomorrow’s game. Joe had never been nervous about a game like this and you were sitting in front of him, trying to get him to talk which you shouldn’t need to ‘try’ to do, he should be openly talking to you right now about his feelings. He always let you into the bubble, so why was it so hard for him to do it right now?

He realized that he was shutting down again, just like he had when he first got injured back in November. He didn’t want to go back to that dark place again, especially since coming out of it was a struggle that affected you both very badly. “I’m scared,” he choked out a few seconds later, trying his best to push through the wall he was unknowingly building again.

“Why?” you quietly asked as you felt your heart shatter because of the tone of his voice. You hated seeing him like this, it broke your heart to see him like this. You moved your hand up to cup his neck, the pads of your fingers were softly rubbing his tan skin which was a gentle action that you knew would calm him down. 

“It’s my first game back from injury. An injury that could’ve easily ended my career. It should’ve ended my career,” he said while lifting his hand to wipe a stray tear from his eye.

“But it didn’t,” you smiled. “It didn’t end your career then and it won’t end your career now,”.

“How do you know that? I haven’t played in a real game since November. I haven’t gotten hit yet, I haven’t gotten sacked yet, and I haven’t been putting that much pressure on my hand. Tomorrow could easily be the last game of my career. Just one wrong move and-,”.

“No.” you interrupted. “You’re not doing that. Not on my watch,” you sternly said, trying to prevent him from getting too far inside his head about everything. Overthinking was his worst enemy.

“I’m being realistic, Y/N. Who knows if I’ll be the same Joe I was before,” he said while blinking away a few tears. 

“You don’t need to be the same Joe you were before,” you soothed while continuing to rub his neck. “What you went through was unlike anything anyone has seen before, if people are expecting you to get right back to where you left off then they have no heart or brains. You’ll get to where you need to be, I promise. Things like this take time,” you added. “The Joe you are now is more than enough. You have grown in many ways that you might not have been able to unless you went through what you went through after November. You’ve worked on yourself and become more open, honest, and loose. You’ve put in the work on the field, in the weight room, in training, and even at home. You’re coming out of this a better person and a better player. A better Joe,”. 

“I just don’t want to let anyone down. What if we lose tomorrow? With the slow start narrative getting louder and the aftermath of my wrist injury, this could be really fucked. This year is so important and I just don’t want to let anyone down; the organization, the team, the public, you,” he continued, his grip on your other hand becoming tighter. “I know I have a chip on my shoulder and have a lot to prove this year, but the thought of people not seeing that is killing me,”.

“You won’t let anyone down, Joe. And you could never ever fucking let me down, never say that again,” you said as you continued to rub his neck, seeing that he was getting more loose from your touch. “You’ve worked so so hard the past 10 months to get back to where you want to be and everyone and I mean everyone has seen that. I’ve seen that. Adversity always makes you better, it ignites that fire inside of you. That fire makes you who you are,” you said to him, feeling a little more comfortable yourself after seeing his body relax a bit. “Remember who you are. You’re Joe Burrow. Heisman winner, College Football National Champion, the first overall draft pick, one of the Top 5 quarterbacks in the league, one of the highest-paid quarterbacks, Ohio’s golden boy. You’re all of those things for a reason, Joe. You have it in you. You don’t need to be afraid or doubt yourself because you did all of those things, nobody else, just you,”. 

You moved your hand over and wiped the tears that slowly were sliding down his cheeks before feeling Joe grab your hand and press a wet kiss to your palm. “I love you,” he sniffled. “I genuinely don’t know what I would do without you,”.

“I love you too,” you smiled before you leaned up to kiss his forehead. “Tomorrow is unpredictable, I will admit. But you control the narrative. You control what happens and what doesn’t happen out there. It’s just you and the football like it always has been. I know you and I know you’re going to kill it,”. 

Joe gave you a small nod as he let your words sit inside of his head; you were right and he knew you were right. He did all of this himself, he single-handedly built his reputation and although there was an immense amount of pressure on him to maintain it, he knew that it was his reputation. He had control over his story, not anyone else. He didn’t need to work at anyone else’s speed except for his own. He knows the narrative that the media has been running with since November, that his career has been hindered by continuous injuries and he’s ’injury prone’. He knows what that title has done to the public's opinion on his career and rank as a player, but they don’t get to define him based on what they think. He is defined by everything he does himself. 

It’s not their story, it’s his. 

He reached out and placed his hand on your waist, gently pulling you from your chair and into his lap. You instantly looped your arms around his neck and pushed his head to the crook of your neck, this warm hug from you was the final thing he needed to fully calm his nerves. “You always know what to say to me,” he mumbled against your collarbone as you ran your fingers through his slightly grown-out frosted tips, his hands softly massaging your plush skin. 

“It’s my job,” you chuckled. “I signed up for this when I met you at that football practice all those years ago and I plan on staying true to what I signed up for as long as I can,” you added before you dropped a kiss on his cheek, your mind calming down once you felt him relax against you.

“You better plan on it. I’m not letting you go anywhere,” he said as he pulled you in tighter. 

“Well it’s a good thing I don’t want to go anywhere,” you giggled in his ear before pressing a kiss to it, then turning back to serious to finish off your little pep-talk. “I’m so proud of you, Joe. More than you’ll ever know. You’re truly the hardest working man I’ve ever met and you continue to amaze me with your dedication and determination every single day. Never think that you’re not good enough and you’re not who everyone thinks you are. You’re Joe Fucking Burrow. Never forget that,”. 

“I won’t,” he sighed contently, finally at peace. “I won’t forget,” he said again before he pulled you closer and closed his eyes, getting lost in your palliative embrace. 

End of flashback 

You were so calm last night and now you were the complete opposite; you couldn’t figure out where and when things went south with your emotions. During the game, your brain was running a mile a minute as you thought of everything that could go wrong: Joe re-aggravating his injury, someone else on the team getting badly injured, and the team not being able to beat the slow start narrative. You were anxious, nervous, and deeply scared once the first quarter of the game started, and your feelings were validated when two minutes into the game Joe got sacked and fumbled the ball. 

You remember your heart stopping once you saw him go down as this was the first time he had been hit since November. 

“No!” you screamed as you shot up from your seat, your hand gripping the necklace around your neck as you looked down on the field and saw a bunch of large behemoths on top of him. “No, No, No,” you panicked as your breaths got shorter, your anxiety getting worse and worse as you saw flashbacks from the Ravens game in November. “Please be okay,” you thought to yourself as you were on the verge of tears. 

Then you remember your heart dropping to your feet once you saw the ball come loose and even though he recovered it, this whole play left a bitter taste in your mouth since it was literally the first few minutes of the game and things were already not going as planned. Luckily, his going down didn’t seem to affect his wrist, but you could only imagine how it affected him mentally. 

You thought that would’ve been the only sack of the game, but once again you were wrong. Each time Joe went down, you felt your heart stop. Each time he ran, your heart stopped again as you got flashbacks from early last year with his calf injury. Each time the camera panned to the sidelines and focused in on him, you felt like crying because you could tell the way the game was going was eating away at him by his facial expressions. 

Every sack, every fumble, every drive that ended without scoring, and every turnover was killing you because the things Joe feared were happening even though you told him they wouldn’t. Seeing him flex his wrist on the sidelines and in between plays was the one thing that really did it for you. You didn’t know if this was just to keep his hand loose because he was feeling some tightness or whether this was because something was actually bothering him, your brain was in panic mode for the rest of the game. 

“I hope he’s okay, that was ugly,” you thought to yourself before you jumped at the sound of the locker room door swinging open and snapping you out of your daze. 

You watched as Joe walked out of the locker room, his eyes exhausted and defeated as he gave you a small ‘reassuring’ smile, however, it wasn’t very reassuring because his eyes gave his true feelings away in an instant. 

You returned his smile with a smile of your own, opening your mouth to ask him if he was okay but before you could he leaned forward and dropped a kiss on your lips. He held it for a few moments as he melted into your touch which was the only relieving feeling he had felt all day before pulling away, entwining your pinkies, and leading you out to the car. 

“That’s not good, he’s never this quiet when I come to meet him after the game,” you thought to yourself. If you didn’t say something first, he almost always did, but he wasn’t saying anything which was concerning. You stayed quiet as he led you out to the garage, your eyes not leaving his weary face for one second. You could tell he wasn’t okay, you could tell he was beating himself up over today’s loss.  

A few moments later, he led you over to the passenger’s side of the car, an unusual move since you always drove the both of you home after a game. “I thought I was driving,” you gently said as you looked up at him. 

“I got it,” he said with no emotion in his voice, dropping your pinky and looking into your eyes with his now cold and emotionless ones. 

“But Joe I-,” you began to say but before you could finish your sentence he turned around and walked to the other side of the car. 

“He definitely heard me,” you thought to yourself as you watched him open the backseat door and roughly throw his bag in, then slammed the door shut with a little more force than usual which startled you. 

You let out a deep breath before opening your door and sliding into the passenger seat, your body stiff and frozen because of the way he was acting. You were scared to say something, scared to do something because you didn’t know what reaction you’d get from him, “He’s not doing this again, right?” you worried. 

10 minutes into the drive home, you started getting agitated. He had yet to say anything to you, not even asking you if you were cold and if he should turn down the AC which he always asked you whenever you were in the car since he knew you got cold easily. His hands were gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles were practically turning white and his eyes were so locked in on the road in front of you that he hadn’t even noticed that you started shivering a little bit. 

“Are you okay?” you finally broke the tension and asked, your bottom lip in between your teeth out of nervousness. Joe rarely ever raised his voice at you or got irritated by you saying something to him, but that didn’t stop you from getting nervous around him whenever he was acting like this. 

You saw his jaw clench for a brief moment, your heart skipping a beat as you braced yourself for a potentially explosive reaction, but then you saw him unclench it. “I’m fine,” he said, once again with no emotion in his voice. 

You gave him a small nod and then a few seconds later asked another question since he wasn’t budging, “How’s your wrist?”.

He let out a sigh, one that you could hear from his nose so it was definitely coming from a tired place, “It’s fine,” he said again, not giving you much to work with. 

“He’s not fine, lying yet again. Maybe I could make him laugh? I need to do something to get him to loosen up” you thought to yourself, your brain scrambling to think of something to make him laugh even if it was for a brief moment. 

“At least you guys scored a touchdown this time,” you smiled a few seconds later. “Even though you didn’t win the game, I’d say it was better than week 1 last year against the browns,”. 

You studied his face carefully after you finished your sentence, searching for any tiny muscle movement that resulted in his lips curling up into a smile, but nothing. “Yeah,” he nodded, once again with no emotion. He then reached over to the center console, turning the knob for the volume up so that the once softly playing music was blasting throughout the car. 

You felt your lip quiver and your eyes started to pool with tears as you continued to look at him, praying that he would look at you for even one brief moment, but he didn’t. “He’s doing it again,” you thought to yourself as you fell back into your seat. “He’s fucking doing it again. Just like he did after he got injured. He’s shutting me out,” you thought as you felt a tear slide down your cheek, your head turning away so that you were looking out the window so if Joe did happen to look over at you, he wouldn’t notice your silent tears. 

Joe did look over at you. He was waiting for you to stop looking at him because he couldn’t look into your eyes right now, not when his brain was all over the place and he could regret the things that potentially came out of his mouth. He looked over at you when he saw you turn your head to the window from the corner of his eyes, his eyes softening when he saw your body shaking. You were cold. He always asks you if you’re cold, and this time he didn’t. 

“I fuck everything up,” he muttered under his breath as he reached over to turn the AC down. 

30 minutes later

After a car ride filled with deafening silence, you made it back home a half hour later and were pouring two glasses of water for you and Joe. He was sitting at the kitchen island behind you scrolling on his phone, still quiet as ever. You grabbed his glass and placed it in front of him, getting a peek at what he was looking at on his phone. 

Media reactions. 

Joe never looked at what the internet was saying about a game after it happened, it was one of his ‘blocking outside noise’ methods, so why was he looking at them? 

“You really shouldn’t be looking at all that bullshit,” you said to him as you took a small sip of your water, the cool liquid feeling like a quiet unraveling of tightness within your body.

Joe was so focused on his phone that he didn’t notice that you were talking to him, the only things that he could hear were the voices of reporters talking about the team’s constant slow starts, his poor performance–saying that he played scared, rusty, and didn’t look like himself and that this team is constantly setting itself up for failure. 

A video came up on his phone, an analyst was talking about his performance in today’s game, “We have to talk about Joe Burrow. He said he was ready, he said he felt great, and he said that this team was ready. But did that Cincinnati Bengals team that played against the Patriots today look ready? Absolutely not. Did the Joe Burrow who stepped out onto that field look ready? Absolutely Not. He looked scared, he didn’t look like himself. The lack of Deep Balls, the lack of throwing down the field. That’s not the Joe Burrow we’ve seen in years past. What’s truly going on in Cincinnati? Is there a deeper issue within that we aren’t seeing?”. 

“They see right through me,” Joe thought to himself, feeling his eyes sting from the hot tears that were threatening to come out. He felt like the room was on fire, and there was invisible smoke. Nobody could really see what he was going through, all they saw was the burning room. 

You felt your heart drop as you heard the reporter talk about Joe’s performance in today’s game, knowing that Joe was probably already criticizing himself and this was going to make it worse. “Joe?” you said a little louder, snapping him out of the dark haze he was stuck in.

“Hm?” he hummed as he looked up at you, noticing your pursed lips and worried eyes. 

“Are you okay?” you asked again, feeling uneasy from the look he had on his face.

“...I said I’m fine,” he replied, his voice a little rougher than earlier. 

You shook your head, “I know you’re not fine. Stop lying to me,” you said with a more rigid tone. 

“I’m not lying to you. I said I’m fine. I don’t think it could be more simpler than that,” he rolled his eyes as he picked up his glass of water, taking a big sip. 

“If you are really ‘fine��,” you say, making air quotes around ‘fine’, “Why are you looking at all that bullshit? You never look at any of that because you say it messes with your head,” you say.

“Because I can?” he scoffs, standing up from the barstool and walking around the island to place his water glass in the sink. 

You take a deep breath, trying not to point out his snappy attitude because you know he isn’t in the right headspace right now. “Joe, seriously. I know you’re not fine but it’s just me. You can talk to me,” you gently say as you walk over to him, placing a hand on his shoulder but he quickly turns around and walks back over to where he was sitting to grab his phone which made your hand drop from his shoulder. 

“I know you had a shitty game, I know you’re in your head about it, I get it. Trust me I do, but just let me-,” you begin to say as you walk over to him before he interrupts you. 

“Do you though?” he asks. “Do you really get it? Sweet talking and hugs don’t magically make everything better, Y/N,” he says, his voice a little louder. 

“Ouch.” you thought to yourself. “No. Remember, he’s not in the right headspace, Y/N. He’s not trying to be hurtful,”. 

“I’m not saying that,” you say to him. “I know that doesn’t make everything better but talking to someone about your feelings does. You know that. You spent weeks working on that, remember?” referring to the therapy sessions he had this past off-season to work through the emotional and mental effects of his injury and just overall mental health. 

“I know, but I said I’m fine. I don’t need to talk about anything, especially with you,” he said, his words feeling like a punch to your gut. 

“Okay, what the fuck?” you thought to yourself. “What do you mean ‘especially’ with me?” you asked, your tone switching from gentle to slightly angry. 

Joe stays quiet for a few seconds, his gaze fixed on the concerned look on your face. He knew what he was saying to you was most likely hurting you and you were coming from a place of worry, but he couldn’t control the things that were leaving his mouth right now. “I’m not doing this with you right now,” he shook his head and turned around, walking over to the stairs.

“Doing what?” you said loudly, following him over to the stairs. “I’m just trying to get you to talk to me but you’re making this a bigger deal than it needs to be,”.

“How am I making this a bigger deal?” he grumbles, turning around to look at you. “You’re the one that won’t leave me alone. I’ve said that I’m fine to you like 5 times now,”.

“You’re making this a bigger deal because you’re shutting me out, again,” you say, feeling your cheeks burn with anger, frustration, and sadness. You and Joe hardly fought, and whenever you did, it broke both of you. You felt like absolute shit right now and you couldn’t even imagine how Joe was feeling. 

“No, I’m not. You’re being unbelievable right now,” he rolled his eyes again and started walking up the stairs with you hot on his tail. 

“No, I’m not,” you say, echoing his words. “You are shutting me out just like you did after your wrist injury. What happened to letting me in your bubble? Because right now it feels like I’m being pushed 100 feet from your bubble for no reason,” you said, your voice a little shaky as you tried to hold back your building tears. 

“I’m not shutting you out, Y/N,” he said loudly, his voice even more rougher. “Just because I don’t want to talk to you about how shitty I did today doesn’t mean I’m shutting you out. I just don’t want or feel the need to talk to you about it,”.

“See, you aren’t okay. I knew you weren’t okay. You know you played like shit so you’re clearly not fine,” you huffed as you made it to the top of the stairs.

“Is that all you wanted to hear? That I played like shit? Okay, yeah, I played like absolute shit. You win. Now will you leave me alone?” he said, trying to hold back from shouting at you even though he was dancing on the line that separated shouting from talking loudly. 

“That’s not what I want to hear, Joe. You know that,” you said, your voice cracking once you felt a hot tear slide down your cheek. “I just want you to talk to me about your feelings, especially after our conversation last night. I don’t want you to go through all that again because I know how hard you tried to move past this mentally. You shut me out before and dealt with all of this on your own, and I saw how badly it affected you. I don’t want you to do that again. I can’t see you like that again,” you cried, your body shaking as all of your built-up emotions from the entire day were coming out. 

You wiped your eyes as you followed him down the hallway, both of you walking past your bedroom and heading toward his office. You made it to the door and watched him open it and step inside. You were going to follow him in, but he turned around on the doorstep which blocked you from going inside. “No,” he shook his head.

“But..Joe I-,” you cried harder.

“No. Just please go away,” he said, his jaw clenching again like it was earlier, but this time it stayed clenched. “I can’t deal with you right now,” he said, his words feeling like a stab to your heart now. 

There was nothing behind those eyes now. He had built up that wall again, that wall you tried so hard to prevent from being built because you knew you’d never be able to get over it. The same wall that he had built back in November after his injury. He did it again. After working so hard to be more open and honest about his feelings, thoughts, and emotions, he went straight back to square 1. 

“Joe, please,” you pleaded. “Nothing’s gonna hurt you baby, if you just talk to me,” you cried more forcefully.

Joe stared at you for a few heartbeats, his heart-shattering at the sight of the state he had brought you to. It was all his fault. Everything was his fault; the game and now this argument. Deep down, he knew you were right, but he just couldn’t see it because the wall he had built was too high. 

He was about to open his mouth to say something, trying to listen to you and talk to you about how he was feeling, but he backed down once he saw you start to shake. He saw your distressed face, your red eyes, your trembling lip, your shaking body, and your rapid breathing. He knew this was all his fault. If he unloaded all of his incredibly heavy, intense, and dreadful feelings on you right now, that would be so incredibly selfish of him. 

Joe backed up in the doorway which made you think he was letting you come inside, but just as you were about to come in, he shut the door on your face. 

You stare at the closed door for a few seconds, not processing what just happened. He really wasn’t letting you in. After all that, after everything he went through? After everything you both went through these past 10 months?

“Do you know how scared I was the entire game? Do you know how every time you went down my heart stopped? Do you know that I spent 5 minutes crying in the bathroom during halftime because I saw the look on your face?” you shouted at the door, your sobs getting louder. “I know this is hard for you but I’m here, Joe. I’m always h- here,” you choke out. 

“Just leave me the fuck alone!” Joe shouted through the door, tears sliding down his cheeks as he squeezed his eyes shut because he instantly regretted saying that to you especially with that harshness in his voice that he knew would hurt you. 

You backed up from the door once you heard him shout at you, he never shouted at you, not even when you had arguments worse than this. You looked around the hallway, trying to collect your thoughts but there were none left to collect. You said everything that you could’ve possibly said to get through to him, what more was there left to say?

He wanted you to leave him alone, so you were going to do just that. 

“Okay, I’ll leave you alone,” you whispered to yourself, turning around and walking to your shared bedroom, your sobs echoing throughout the house as you disappeared inside your room. 

On the other side of the office door, Joe was sitting in his office chair, hot tears sliding down his cheeks as he was drowning with regret. He lamented saying those things to you, he doesn’t know what came over him. What was wrong with him? 

“Why did I do that to her? Why the fuck did I do that to…her?” he sniffled. He knows his anxiety and fears are controlling him right now, but there was absolutely no reason for him to take it out on the one person who always is there for him no matter what.  

“I fuck everything up,” he cried as he looked at a photo of the two of you sitting on his desk, a photo his mom took after he got his wrist surgery. 

Flashback to November 27th

“Babe, can we go skydiving?” Joe laughed as he rolled his head against the pillow to look at you. He had just woken up from surgery so he was feeling the effects of the anesthesia, and boy were they funny. The things that were coming out of his mouth were nothing but lighthearted, pure fun. It was good to see him laugh and smile especially since how melancholic his attitude had been since he got injured. 

“Absolutely not,” you said while giving him a serious look. “You are not jumping out of a plane as long as I am on this earth,”. 

“But why not? They have parachutes,” he pouted. “I think it would be sooooo fun,”.

“This is the same man who hates flying. Can you believe it?” Robin laughed as she finished typing up a text to send to family members to let them know the surgery went really well. 

“I know right?” you laughed with her. 

“How long did they say I can’t do stuff with my hand for?” Joe asked you with his adorable wide-eyed stare. 

“I think they said to have it in a sling for at least a month right now until your first follow-up,” you said as you brushed his hair out of his eyes.

“A month?” Joe dramatically gasped, his jaw dropping to the floor.

“Yeah,” you laughed. “Sorry baby, you’re not Deadpool and can’t heal within 5 seconds,” you smiled. 

“Wait, does that mean we can’t have sex for a month?” he gasped again.

“Joe!” you shrieked, your cheeks turning red because his mom was right in front of you both.

“Ah, wait. Loophole, duhh. You can just be on top which I know you love,” he winked while using his finger to point at you for emphasis. 

“Oh my god,” you whined as you hid your face in your sweatshirt sleeves, hearing Joe’s mom break out into a fit of laughter. 

“Hey, don’t hide your pretty face from me,” Joe pouted as he used his good hand to lower your hands that were covering your face. “Ahh, there she is. My beautiful, adorable, sexy-as-hell, fiance,” he said after you uncovered your face.

“Fiance?” you raised an eyebrow and asked. “Is this your way of proposing?” you giggled. 

“No. When I actually do, it’ll be way more grander, sexier, and special than this,” he winked. “Like I’m talking maybe on the top of the Empire State Building, maybe in the middle of the football stadium, maybe at the top of the Eiffel Tower, maybe even while we go skydiving type special proposal. But I know I’m marrying you and I like the word fiance better than girlfriend,” he laughed. 

“You’re insane,” you laughed as you dropped your head to his chest, feeling him cup your head with his good hand and drop a kiss on your head. 

“I love you like a lot,” he giggled. “Like a lot a lot,” he giggled again.

“Ohh, I know,” you cheesed. 

“You definitely don’t. I love you more than words can describe,” he smiled, you craned your head up to look into his sweet eyes before leaning up and pressing a kiss to his lips. “I love you too, Burrow,”. 

After you pulled away you were about to get up from his hospital bed but his mom spoke up, “Wait, stay like that. I’m going to get a picture,” she smiled.  

“Yesss,” Joe nodded. “I loveeeee pictures, especially with my fiance,”. 

“You are really something,” you giggled as you sat up straight.

You moved your hair back and helped Joe scooch up in the bed before turning your head and pressing a kiss to his cheek, placing your hand under his chin as he had a giant grin on his face. His good hand was wrapped around your waist and was holding you as close as possible to his body. 

You two were so happy. For once this past month, you were laughing, you both were smiling. 

“Are you going to be my protector for the next few months?” Joe giggled. “Not let anything bad happen to me and my wrist?”.

“Oh, 100%. I am your nurse, personal bodyguard, and protector. Nobody is hurting my man on my watch,” you grinned again as you smothered his cheeks with kisses. 

You both knew this wasn’t going to be easy, but as long as you were by each other’s side, nothing was going to hurt you. 

End of flashback 

“Nothing’s going to hurt me as long as she’s with me. I can’t keep pushing her away,” Joe whispered to himself as he snapped out of the sweet memory and wiped his tears. 

2 hours later

It had been two hours since your fight with Joe so it had been two hours since you had last seen him. After going into your bedroom earlier, you spent about 10 minutes crying in the bathroom as you tried to change into some comfier clothes. You felt awful about the whole thing. The way you lost your cool a few times, the way he was talking to you, just everything–it was horrible. 

You were currently sitting on the couch, sipping on some water and scrolling through some photos on your phone of the two of you. You let out a small laugh when you came across a silly photo of the two of you at a Hurricane Party you dragged him to at LSU. You remembered he was fully against the idea of going to a party during a hurricane, saying it was ‘batshit crazy’ and a ‘death wish’ but you managed to drag him along with you because you didn’t want him to sit inside and stress about the storm. In the photo, you two were standing on the deck of your friend’s house, the wind blowing so hard against you that Joe’s hat was flying away, and you with the hat you were trying to catch. His hand was tightly gripping onto yours and there were silly, drunk, lovesick smiles on both your faces as you were being soaked from the rain.  

“We’re insane,” you sniffled, realizing how batshit crazy it really was to party during a hurricane. 

As you were looking at other photos, you heard heavy footsteps coming down the stairs. You looked over at the bottom of the staircase, seeing Joe coming down in comfy clothes and wet hair which meant he showered and came out of his office at some point. 

“At least he wasn’t in there for the entirety of these two hours looking at stuff from the game,” you thought to yourself. 

Joe met your eyes as he walked into the room, seeing how red and puffy they were which was yet another thing that made him feel like absolute shit. He turned his head away at the same time you turned yours and walked into the kitchen, pulling out a glass from the cabinet. 

He started pouring you a glass of water, adding a few ice cubes because he knew you loved to chew on ice after you cried. At first, he didn’t understand the correlation, but then you explained to him that the ice has this cooling effect that can reduce heat and swelling around the face that happens after crying for a while. 

He grabbed the glass from the counter and slowly walked over to the couch, standing in front of you and holding the glass out. “Here,” he softly said, his voice just as heavy as yours which told you that he was crying too.

You slowly looked up at him, noticing that his eyes were also red and puffy. He definitely was crying too. 

“Thanks,” you quietly say as you take the glass from him, taking a big sip and letting the ice cube float into your mouth. 

“At least he remembered the ice,” you thought to yourself, appreciating the fact that he added them. 

You start to chew on the ice as you see Joe plop down on the couch next to you, your body freezing up because you remember everything he said to you earlier. You knew he was coming from a place of anger and guilt, but it still hurt. Joe noticed you tense up next to him, because of him, and that felt like a knife to his heart.

You both stayed quiet, staring at the random re-run of an episode of Friends that was playing on TV, but your minds weren’t focused on what was happening in the show. They were focused on each other. 

Joe felt his bottom lip start to quiver as his eyes once again pooled with tears, all of his emotions were coming out again. He fucked things up with you so bad tonight that he didn’t even know how to fix it. He hurt you. You were just trying to help him for his own good and he shut down on you. He shut you out. The one and only person that he let into his bubble. The one person he needed in his bubble. 

His brain was already crowded with anxiety and fear regarding football, but this was the worst thing out of everything. He didn’t want to go back to that dark place again, he didn’t want to deal with this on his own.

You heard soft sniffles come from beside you so you looked over, your heart shattering again as you saw Joe on the verge of tears, his eyes so red and his lip trembling like he was trying to hold it together. 

He didn’t need to hold it together, not around you. You knew that. You needed to make sure he knew that. “Come here,” you whispered to him as you put your arm around his shoulder and pulled him into your chest.

Joe immediately snaked his arm around your waist and rested his cheek against your chest, letting his tears fall from his eyes onto your pink tank top. You wriggled your hand into his frosted tip hair, scratching his scalp and pressing kisses to his head as he cried harder into your chest. 

You hated seeing him cry, but you knew he was feeling a lot right now and he needed to get his feelings out and this was the best way for him to do it. “It’s okay,” you soothed as you rubbed his back. “I’m here,”.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m s- so fucking sorry,” he cried harder. “I didn’t mean to yell at you, I didn’t mean to say all of that horrible shit to you. You don’t deserve any of that, you were just trying to help,”.  

“I know, baby, I know,” you said, blinking away a few of your own tears. “It’s okay,”,

“No, it’s not okay,” he said. “This is all so fucked up. I fucked everything up,” he sobbed. 

“No, you didn’t,” you said to him as you continued to rub his back. “You didn’t fuck anything up, Joe. Everything’s fine,”.  

“I did. I fucked up in the game and then I fucked up things with you. Nothing’s fine,” he sniffled. 

“Listen, Nothing's gonna hurt you, baby. As long as you're with me, you'll be just fine,” you said to him before pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Like I said earlier, I’m right here. Just talk to me,”.

“...You’re right,” he sniffled, breaking through the mental wall he had built. “You belong in my bubble, I can’t keep you out of it,”.

“So don’t,” you said, pulling him in tighter. 

“I’m scared,” he breathed out a few seconds later. “I feel guilty about everything. This game was supposed to be different. I was supposed to be different. I feel like all of this was my fault because I wasn’t as ready as I thought I was. This was my first game back and I played like absolute shit out there,”.

“Oh, Joe,” you said as your face dropped as well as your heart. 

“I disappointed everyone. Most importantly, I disappointed you. Even after everything you told me last night, I couldn’t do it. Everything that could’ve gone wrong went wrong and I didn’t do anything to fix it,” he said as a few more tears fell from his eyes.

“You didn’t disappoint anyone, Joe. Nobody expected you to go out there and play like you had a completely normal year. You went through so much with this injury, obviously things weren’t going to go back to normal in one game,” you gently said. “And you could never disappoint me. I told you, I know you. The public doesn’t know you like I do so they’re going to run with whatever bullshit they want as an explanation for why the game went the way it did. I know why things went the way they did, I’m not disappointed in you at all. I’m proud of you for going out there and doing what you did today,” you said as you pressed another kiss on his forehead and moved your hand back up to his soft hair. 

“I just feel like I had the shinest wheels, you know? There was so much hype and fire around me when I first got drafted, but ever since then, I’ve just disappointed everyone. It feels like the wheels are rusting. I know what everyone’s been saying, and I get it. I would say the same thing if I was in their shoes. It’s been 5 years of nothing but injuries, slow starts, and coming up short. I feel like I’m falling behind everyone, everyone keeps getting better and I feel stuck. Right now, all of my cages are mental and that’s why I’m scared. If I keep doing this, I’m wasting my potential. I’m stuck as the ‘injury prone’ and ‘wasted potential’ quarterback,” he said, the vulnerability in his voice comforting you because it meant he was letting you in.

“I haven’t done what I promised to do when I got drafted, so why should people believe me when I say that I’m built for this? Why should they believe me when I say that this year will be different? And you know what? They don’t believe me, at least not anymore and I saw that today. They see right through me. Even I see right through me,” he said.

“Can you see right through me?” he asked you, looking up into your soft eyes. 

“Yes,” you nodded, his brows furrowing at your response. “Not in that way though,” you added. “I see right through you because I know you. That’s why I knew you weren’t fine the second you walked out of the locker room. Remember, the media, the fans, and the public don’t see through you, they only see the surface level because they don’t know you. They don’t truly know how hard you work, how strong you are, how much passion you really have for this. They’re going to spew whatever bullshit they want because that’s what they do. If they were in your shoes, then they would know why these things happen and the reality of the situation. They can’t see through you, I promise. And as for the not getting better, you’re crazy if you think that. I saw you in practice, your throws have never looked better. You have never looked better, all this muscle and beefiness is a part of getting better. And like I told you yesterday, you control the narrative. You don’t have to be the ‘injury-prone’ quarterback, you can change it. Deep down, you know who you are. Don’t let these trolls and interlopers define you,”. 

Joe nodded as he felt his breaths steady out and his tears start to dry up. “I played scared yesterday, and I don’t know why? I thought I was ready, you know? We weren’t supposed to lose that game,”.

“I know,” you sighed. “But you’ve gone through so much these past 5 years, it’s completely normal to be hesitant and nobody should be blaming you for this. Yesterday’s loss wasn’t just on you. You’re on a team, Joe. They didn’t play perfectly either and the blame shouldn’t only fall on you. You’re a piece to the puzzle, a big piece, but not the only piece. The media always wants to pin everything on one person. One thing that I admire about you is how easily you block out the outside noise, don’t change that. Block it out like you always do,”. 

“This is game 1 out of 17. Don’t let this define you and don’t let the noise get to you,” you said as you used your thumb to rub the skin underneath his eye, wiping away the wet tear trails.

Joe nodded again, taking in all of the words you were saying to him. You were right, about all of it. He was so in his head about everything and so panicked that he couldn’t use logic and sense to think clearly. This was just one bump in the road as you explained. He had 16 more games to play and 16 more opportunities to show everyone what he’s made of. 

“You’re right,” he nodded. “This was one game. I can take this, learn from my mistakes, and get better,”.

“That’s exactly what I like to hear,” you smiled after hearing him work through his complicated feelings. “You’re going to get better. The team is going to get better. If you want to fix the blaring issues, do it with a calm, collected, and cool mind. You’re called ‘Joe Cool’ for a reason. Live up to that name,” you giggled. “Don’t lose your cool, don’t lose your composure over shit like this. I know you feel awful about how things went today, but one bad game doesn’t define a player and doesn’t define the entire season. Things were rough, but you always, no, you will bounce back,”.

“Thank you,” he sniffled against your chest, his brain feeling like it had just been given a nice comfy king-sized bed and cloud-like blanket to sleep in for the night. You were the only person that could make him turn his brain off and he couldn’t thank you enough. “I think I just got panicked after seeing everyone’s reactions and seeing how things looked out on the field plus everything I was feeling yesterday made it worse,”.

“Of course,” you smiled as you gave his head another kiss before holding him tighter against you. “And I get it. Sometimes it feels like the walls are caving in but that’s why it’s always important to talk to someone when you feel that way. Bottling up those feelings only makes it worse,”.  

“You're 100% right, Y/N. I’m sorry about earlier,” he said while looking up into your eyes again. “That was so fucking uncalled for. And I’m sorry for raising my voice, I was a dick to you the entire night,”. 

“It’s okay,” you smiled. “You were a dick, I agree,” you began to say, earning a laugh from Joe which made your heart smile, “But you’re my dick and I know how to handle you,” you smiled, then quickly furrowed your brows. 

“Wait, that doesn’t sound right at all,” you slapped your hand against your mouth after realizing what that sounded like, another laugh coming from Joe’s mouth. 

“I know what you mean,” he smiled. “But seriously, everything I said was straight bullshit. You mean the world to me and without you, I really think I would end up in an insane asylum. You’re the single most important thing in my life and I appreciate everything you do for me. Don’t ever leave me alone if I ask you to. Like please, I can’t live without you. Chain yourself to my wrist if you need to,”.

“Noted,” you smiled. “Just don’t freak out on me like that again, okay? You worked so hard this past year to get out of that zone, break free from that dark cloud, and I don’t want to see you back there,”. 

“I promise I won’t go back there and if I ever feel like I am, you’ll be the first person I come to. I’m never going to keep you out of the bubble again,” he said as he pressed a kiss to your chest. “I love you,” he said with another kiss to your chest.

“I love you too,” you smiled down at him. “I love you like a lot a lot,” you giggled, echoing what he said to you after his wrist surgery. 

“You know, sweet talking and hugs do make everything better,” he laughed as he looked up at you with his child-like smile you loved to see. 

“Oh, I know,” you winked. “But you still feel pretty stiff right now. Are you sure you’re 100% okay?”. 

“I think it’s just all the tension that I didn’t get to release out on the field. And I guess everything that happened after made it worse,” he grimaced. 

“Ah, that makes sense,” you nod, trying to think of a way to help him get his tension out because you knew if he didn’t, he’d be whiny all night about it. “How about some hot, post-loss sex to make you feel better?” you wiggled your eyebrows and asked. 

Joe’s eyes jumped up to meet yours as he was a bit taken aback by your straightforwardness. “For real?” he asked as he got up from your chest. 

“Mhm, the perfect way to get the tension and aggression out,” you said while licking your lips and giving him a sultry smile. 

“I love you, so fucking much,” he growled in your ears before shooting up from the couch, snaking his arms under you, lifting you up, and leading you up to the bedroom bridal style.

“At least the wrist seems to be just fine,” you giggled as he quickly ran up the stairs with you. 

Not even 5 minutes later, you two were mostly naked, on the bed, and attached to each other’s lips as if you had never kissed each other before. His lips moved against yours hungrily, signaling that he was feeling that way tonight and that you should brace yourself for what was to come.

You felt him pull away from your lips and start pressing wet, sloppy kisses down your body. “I thought we were getting right to it?” you asked him as you felt his gentle lips on your belly. 

“Mmm, I gotta make it up to you first, then we can get to it,” he smiled up at you. 

“But I said I-,”.

“Nope. I have to make you feel good first, you deserve it,” he winked before he continued to kiss down your body. You felt him attach his lips to the skin of your inner thigh, rhythmically sucking and biting which would surely leave a mark while his hands crept up to the waistband of your lace panties. He then moved his lips to press a kiss to your clothed core before pulling your underwear down, tossing it to the side, and then flashing you a devilish grin since he saw how you were squirming around on the bed because of the undeniable ache between your thighs. 

The next few minutes passed by like a blur and the next thing you knew, Joe’s head was buried deep in between your thighs and your back was arching off the bed. “Joe,” you moaned as you felt him push you back down, the expert swirl of his tongue sending jolts of pleasure throughout your body. “J- Joe,” you whispered, your head falling to the side as your eyes fluttered shut. 

Joe couldn’t help but smile into you as he continued to eat you out like a starved man, the beautiful sounds coming from your mouth making his heart happy but also, his dick.

“Mmm, fuck..,” you whimpered as you gripped the silk sheets, tossing your leg over his shoulder and lightly gliding your foot along his muscular back. The sudden touch made Joe groan into your core which sent vibrations throughout your body, your heated touch feeling like fire against his cold frame.  

He continued to lap at your drenched folds, all while his hands were tightly gripping your hips and massaging your plush skin. “You’re so fucking good at this,” you whispered with another loud moan following after as you felt his perfect ski-slope nose rubbing against your aching clit.

You placed a hand into his hair, softly pulling on the strands as you pushed him closer to your core and yet another moan came from your mouth. Joe lifted his head out from in between your thighs and looked up at you, “You’re extra vocal tonight,” he smirked, his lips and chin coated with your wetness. 

“Shut up,” you whined before you pushed his head back down, a smile appearing on your lips when you felt him attach his lips to your bundle of nerves and flick your clit with his warm tongue. You felt yourself fading away, getting lost in the sensual supernova that was happening down below.

“...Oh my god,” you whined a few seconds later, feeling him thrust a finger into your core which pushed you closer to your orgasm even faster than before. “Don’t stop,” you said while pulling on his hair, your leg lightly wrapping around the back of his neck. 

You felt him move his other hand down, his thumb resting on your clit as he rubbed slow circles around the bundle of nerves–this movement made you see stars. The combination of his thumb rubbing your clit, his finger thrusting in and out of your slick core, and his mouth going unhinged was making the imaginary band in your stomach tighten harder than it ever had before. 

“I’m close,” you whimpered, your hips gently bucking at the jolt of pleasure moving through your body. “I’m..s- so…c- close,” you whimpered, this time a little louder because his thumb started moving faster around your clit. You then feel him add another finger into your core, your hips grinding against the bed as you search for any form of relief, but the only thing that could relieve you was taking his sweet time. 

“Baby, please,” you begged, your eyes fluttering shut as your back arched off the bed again, his fingers rapidly thrusting in and out of your core while you felt a more extreme feeling begging to be released from inside of you. “Oh, fuck,” you moaned, the feeling about to break through in just a few seconds.

Joe curled his fingers inside of your core and moved his mouth back up to your clit, roughly attaching his mouth to the bud and sucking you in a way that he knew drove you crazy. And then just a few seconds later you dropped back down to the bed as you felt yourself tip over the edge, his name falling from your lips like some seductive chant while you came undone. “Joe!” you screamed, tightly closing your eyes and feeling your entire body shake with the force of your orgasm. 

Joe looked up through his eyelashes, watching you restlessly move around and hearing breathy moans leaving your beautiful mouth as he lapped at the juices of your intense–still going–orgasm. He was slowly getting more and more worked up as he watched you come apart, knowing he was the only man who had ever seen you this vulnerable and raw and was the only man who was going to see this. 

A minute later you open your eyes, your chest heaving as you recover from the intense high that washed over you, “Holy fuck,” you panted as you saw Joe smiling at you, his lips and chin completely covered in your release, his face showing that he somehow enjoyed this just as much as you did. 

“Did I just-,” you asked, feeling the soaked sheets below you, as you caught your breath. Your eyebrows shoot up in amusement as you watch Joe wipe his chin with his fingers before using his tongue to lick them clean. 

“Yeah,” he chuckled, “You did,”. 

“Oh my god,” you said, hiding your face with your hands out of embarrassment. 

Joe let out a throaty laugh before kneeling on the bed again and hovering over you, then moving your hands off of your face, “Why are you hiding,” he smiled.

“Because I just…,” you said while biting your lip, his bedroom eyes making you want to pounce on him right that second even though you also wanted to run and hide for some reason.

“What?” he said while trying to hold back his cocky smile. “Squirted?” he asked while moving your hair out of your face.

“You don’t have to say it like that…,” you said while hiding your face again. 

After all this time, you still felt shy around him. He’d seen your most embarrassing moments, your best and your worst. He’d seen it all. The fact that you felt embarrassed about this little thing was adorable and another reminder that you were the most precious girl he had ever met. 

“Don’t feel embarrassed, babe. It’s not the first time and it’s definitely not the last time,” he softly said while leaning down to kiss your forehead. “I think it was super hot and super sexy,”. 

“Really?” you asked while peeking out at him through your fingers.

“Mhmmm. Besides, I’ve seen way worse than this. Can’t forget the time I walked in on you fingering yourself while I was away at practice,” he grinned from ear to ear, as if he was proud that he made you so worked up even when he was away from you.

“Joseph Lee,” you screamed while playfully slapping his bare chest.

“Hey, it was a great show,” he shrugged. “I can still remember the sounds,” he said while clearing his throat. “Oooh, Joe. Ohhh Joe, fuck. Joe, ah… Joey!” he moaned as he mimicked you, all while laughing because he couldn’t be serious about it. 

“You know, I don’t have to offer an outlet for you to release your tension,” you shrugged as you started to get up from the bed but felt yourself being caged in by your large boyfriend. 

“Ahem, I don’t think that’s how this works, baby,” he shook his head. “Once you put something on the table, you can’t take it off,”.

“Oh yeah?” you teased. “What if I do?”.

“You don’t wanna know,” he whispered in your ear before slamming his thick cock into your dripping entrance with no warning. 

“Joe,” you gasped, the sudden feeling of him stretching you out and filling you up so extreme and lively. 

“That’s it, baby,” he groaned as he threw his head back, his cock moving at an instantaneous pace. “That’s it…,” he said again but a little quieter while he dropped his head to the crook of your neck, the feeling of your warm walls wrapping around him so intense and special. 

“Joe, fuck,” you whimpered as you felt his cock repeatedly slam into your cervix, his body moving against yours recklessly and roughly. His thrusts quickened as he moved deeper and deeper inside you, the sounds of your breathy moans getting louder with each snap of his skilled hips. He sported a euphoric look on his once-tired face, a sign that he felt relaxed and it was all to your credit. 

The next few minutes were hot, steamy, and messy as he whispered filthy praise into your ear which matched the pure vulgarity that was happening between you two on the bed right now. His hard thrusts made it difficult for you to hold it together, your nails clawing at his tan back as you bit down on his shoulder and got lost under his touch. “You’re so good to me,” he moaned in your ear, his hand moving up and wrapping around your throat. 

“Joe,” you struggled to moan, feeling his grip around your throat becoming a little tighter as the pleasure inside of you was rapidly building.

“Ah, fuck,” he panted as he picked his head up and cupped the back of your leg, and lifted it over his shoulder; this new position opened you up even more and made it easier for him to hit all the right spots inside of you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whimpered, the sight of his lip in between his teeth and his thick body moving against you making your eyes roll to the back of your head. 

“I’m close,” you moaned as you looked down, moaning again at the sight of his shaft rapidly moving in and out of your slick heat.

“Fuck, me…too,” he groaned, his pace getting rougher and rougher as sounds of your skin slapping against each other echoed throughout the room. “I love you,” he moaned loudly once he felt his cock start to twitch inside of you. 

“Joe, fuck…please, I need to come,” you whined, his grip on your leg getting tighter. 

“I know baby, I know,” he whimpered, “I’m almost there,” he added as he dropped your leg and moved his hand to the headboard, gripping it tightly as he used it as leverage to slam into you even harder. All the tension, all the aggression, it was all coming out in the most fruitful way possible. He was getting away from himself, and it was all thanks to you. 

“Ah, fuck,” you screamed, feeling yourself on the brink of pleasure, stars filling your eyes as his pace remained rough and hard. 

A few seconds later, you felt him shoot endless ropes of cum into your wet heat which were accompanied by another loud moan from him. “Fuck. Oh fuck,” he panted as he slowed his thrusts into you, making sure that his release stayed inside of you and that you reached your high.

“Joe, please,” you pleaded, needing to feel your high right this second. 

“I’ve got you,” he said while giving you a lazy smile, his hand moving down to your clit and rubbing rapid circles around the sensitive bud as he slowed his thrusts even more.  A few seconds later, you clamped down on his cock, arched your body up into him, and felt yourself let go for the second time tonight. “Oh my god,” you moaned before you felt him press gentle kisses all along your neck and eventually your face, your lips meeting in a sloppy kiss as your highs washed over you. 

A few minutes later, you were both lying against the messy sheets, your head tucked into his chest as he played with your hair and once again apologized to you for how he acted earlier tonight. 

“Joe, I promise, It’s okay,” you giggled. “You’ve made it up to me in more ways than one. The fact that I can’t walk right now is an apology enough,”. 

“Okay, I’ll stop now,” he smiled. “Thank you for everything though. This and for everything you said earlier,”. 

“No need to thank me, baby. I told you, this is my job. We’re in this together and I promise that nothing’s going to hurt you as long as you’re with me. Like I said to you back in November, I’m your protector,” you grinned. 

“That you are,” he laughed, his body feeling loose and light under you for the first time all day. 

“Thank god he feels better," you smiled to yourself. Joe was the most important thing in your life, having him relaxed, focused, and calm was all you wanted. He deserved all the happiness, success, and love in the world and you needed to make sure he knew that. Moments like this were going to happen all throughout his career, but they were controllable and you were a big reason as to why they were. He wasn't kidding when he said he needed you inside his bubble or he'd end up in the insane asylum. You were his safe haven, his place of tranquility, his calm in the storm.

“I love you more than anything, Joe. Everything's going to be alright, I promise,” you smiled up at him, then leaned in for another kiss before you felt him pull the sheets over you both. 

“I love you too, Y/N,” he smiled as he nuzzled his nose against yours and leaned in for another kiss. 

–The End–

part 2 is on the masterlist!

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

HI SWEETIE I HAVE A REQUEST!! i hope you dont mind!

so, bucky and f!reader, maybe married and they have a baby together. after that time of recovery reader is a bit shy of her own body cause it's been a while since they did it and she isnt back at her pre-pregnancy weight and bucky is absolutely like mind blown by her beauty? like, nearly drooling? and please can you add body worship on this?

i seriously hope it's okay for you, but if it's not please ignore this!

HII BBY!! I love love love it. thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌

DEFLECTION.

​bucky barnes x fem!reader (married & parents) — comfort

word count. 1031

disclaimer. the hair colour and type has no significance to the writing. the gif just suits the theme of this fic. also please read the ask carefully

Only a few short months ago, you gave birth to a healthy baby girl - a daughter you shared with your husband, Bucky. Very quickly she became the sole focus of your attention, neither of you having much time to do anything like you used to. 

Consequently, your sex life had taken a hit, and not because of the significant decrease in quality time, but instead something far more complex.

So far, motherhood has been a slight struggle to adjust to - the differences in your life between then and now are almost stark. You've been trying to adapt to all the changes that come with it, the main being your new body. You've been feeling shy and insecure with your new shape, often feeling like the weight will never drop off to what you looked like before.

It was hard to digest the change.

You were in the bathroom to freshen up, your eyes looking back at you in the mirror almost pitifully - your gaze travelling down, honing in on your stomach through your once baggy tee.

"They're here," Bucky calls from the other room, his voice putting a hold on the thoughts in your mind.

You step out of the bathroom, meeting your husband and daughter by the front door, a pink baby bag slung over his shoulder.

He notices the downcast direction of your eyes, seeing the way you tried to pull away from his attention. "Everything okay?" he asks you, rocking his little girl in his arms, bouncing her when she makes a noise.

You hum, walking closer to say goodbye to your baby - running a finger over her soft cheek. 

He doesn't believe you, though he waits for it to be just the two of you before he can question it. He doesn't want to create a situation before your parents arrive to pick up your daughter. They offered to have her for a few hours to give you both some respite.

The second the door closes, and it's just the two of you again, he turns to look at you - his brows curled up inquisitively.

"Now, what's really going on?" he asks, referring to all those times you shut yourself off from him - primarily that one a few minutes ago.

You turn away, heading to the kitchen to get a drink. "Going on with what?" you deflect, trying to avoid the topic.

He follows you, standing behind you at the sink - his arms wrapping around your middle, chin resting over your shoulder. 

But he's too close to where you don't want him, so you flinch at his touch, moving his hands away from your tummy and stretching the hem of your top - pulling on the fabric.

Bucky rips his hands from you, your avoidance of his touch making things whirl in his mind. "You don't like that anymore?" he asks, stepping aside to face the side of you.

"I do... just— just not right now," you reply, taking a quick sip of water before moving across the kitchen - heading towards the fridge. "Tired, feel gross," you shrug, trying to ease the tension you accidentally created. 

"That's not it," he softly shakes his head, eyes focused on you even though every glance goes unreciprocated. "It's something else."

"Just need a nap and shower," you partially lie, pulling out two apples, handing him one.

He doesn't accept your attempt at deflection, instead turning it down. "No, it's something else," he continues, his eyes glued to the side of your face. "And you're afraid of saying it."

"I'm not," you softly protest, voice quiet.

"So it is something else," he mutters, the unknown confession of you making things easier for him, harder for you.

You're cornered. You sigh and nod faintly, closing the door of the fridge. 

"What is it? Please talk to me," he reaches for your hand, fingers wrapping themselves around yours. "It's just the two of us, no distractions... what's been going on?"

"It's hard to get used to," you start, pausing to think of what to say next.

"What is? Being a mom?" he asks, noticing your focused gaze on the baby stuff on the counter. 

You nod, pausing once more. "Not just that," you exhale, shrugging. "Everything's changed."

"With us?" he asks, hand tightening in yours. 

"With me," you correct, looking down at your hand in his. "I've changed, and I'm not used to it... I don't like it."

"How have you changed?" he questions, trying to prompt more answers from you. 

"My body has," you softly reply, trying not to squirm at your confession. "My boobs, tummy, my hair. The weight is taking longer to come off than I thought, and I feel— I feel like a..." you go quiet, not wanting to finish your sentence.

However, Bucky's not done coaxing words from you. His face softens when you finally meet his gaze, his features inviting and knowing. "Feel like a what?" he whispers.

"I don't know," you shrug again.

"'You are not your thoughts'," he says, reciting those words you've said to him countless times after his nightmares. Though now he's repurposing them to someone else who needs them, you. "I repeat that saying in my head all the time. Do you know who taught me that?" he asks, his gaze honing in on you - trying to stop you from looking away.

"Me," you whisper. 

"That's right," he nods, bringing his spare hand to cup your cheek. "You need to use that same kindness to yourself. And right now," he starts, pressing a kiss into your lips. "You have never looked more beautiful to me."

You softly frown, the rest of your features relaxing.

"Your body gave us a daughter," he smiles. "You made her. You may or may not get your ‘old body back.’ But the one you have now is perfect too.”

"Thank you," your voice cracks, the sweet words of your lover soothing all the doubts in your mind. You envelop him in an embrace, arms hugging around him in the ways you've recently longed for. "I mean it."

His arms wrap around you just as tight, one hand running up your spine. "So do I.”

[beddybites]

hi friends! big rant incoming— i want to clarify this isnt targeted at anyone, im just noticing a pattern and im getting a little upset with some of the requests im being sent ):

something that really bothers me is the babyfication of giyuu tomioka. the fandom infantilizes the dude way too much. and its even worse when you throw shinobu into the mix and have her being a maternal figure to him when she herself is an eighteen year old who has worked as a hashira since she was a teenager. she does not need to be put into these situations where she’s taking care of her older peers all the time

i see this happen a lot and i feel its rooted in misogyny whether people recognize it or not. almost always the male characters are thrown into positions where the female character has to take care of them and its really frustrating

shinobu isnt a maternal character at all. to inosuke and the younger ones, it’s different, but if i keep seeing her being a mom to giyuu im actually going to lose my mind. giyuu isnt some uwu depressed baby who cant stand up for himself. he is just as mean as sanemi and obanai. he trained to survive and operate in horrible situations and fight for his life for years. hes a grown man and a hashira. he would not be babied by anyone, especially not someone who he has known since she was around fourteen years old

you may say “well ghostbite dont you do this with mitsuri and obanai”… sure. perhaps i am a hypocrite. but you must remember mitsuri is just sort of like that. she loves cute things and she loves fawning over everyone and everything. her scenes with nezuko. her introduction scene in the hashira meeting with her gushing over everyone. she hand feeds tanjiro pancakes in the recent season. she refers to people as “cutie.” etc etc etc

the difference with obanai and giyuu is obanai is often characterized as a yandere simp who is a huge bully to giyuu and tanjiro. he’s not. i like to put him in deaging situations a lot because unlike everyone else, he’s been through hell since birth. he’s never, not once, had a moment of peace. he had no siblings growing up to protect him— he had no loving parents, etc. he never felt love and he believes he is undeserving of it and should never reciprocate it. so here comes mitsuri, the epitome of love. he takes care of her. he watches after her. he is devoted to her. if something happens to him, especially if it’s a situation where he’s much smaller and weaker and in need of care, mitsuri would drop everything to help him. if it were mitsuri, obanai would do the same for her. it’s in both of their characters to do this. them being in these situations makes sense

i love shinobu. she would not. she does what a doctor does, looks for a cure, checks in here and there, and leaves it at that. she is not giyuu’s “mama.” she is an eighteen year old girl who has her own bucketload of issues. if you need her in a maternal role then use inosuke or literally any of the butterfly girls— the kids she actually takes in and takes care of. not her 21 year old coworker who is more than capable

if anything i think shinobu should be put in deaging situations. have giyuu take care of her instead. mix it up a little. but people are so attached to the idea of having every single caregiver role go to the woman that it’s unlikely we’ll see that

this is not a criticism on giyuu. i love giyuu. but i need people to stop treating him like a defenseless baby, and for people to quit seeing shinobu as responsible for him as a caregiver or a mother

tdlr: please stop asking me to draw or write deaged giyuu stuff. someone else can do that. i dont like deaged giyuu. tiny 21 trio is essentially on hold because of this ): i keep getting nonstop requests for deaged giyuu and im so tired, especially because people are framing it in a “you should replace obanai with giyuu” lens, or adding “mama shinobu doing x with baby giyuu”

it’s tiresome and frustrating. i love to make content for you guys, and i love when its something that appeals to you in a comforting way, but if you want specific content with giyuu— you’re very much in the wrong place. i hate the fandomification of him and shinobu— it makes me uncomfy and sad.

other people are deaging giyuu and putting him in situations— go ask them instead of me. i would rather highlight misunderstood and underrated characters like obanai and gyomei or my own personal faves (muichiro) then constantly loop the same exact character over and over again

all this to say im doubling down on the babybu and babynai and pintsized pillars aus. if you keep asking for baby giyuu and maternal figure shinobu my spite makes me stronger. hashtag let shinobu be taken care of for once. she’s already the doctor for an entire organization give my girl a break

[jeonitopia]

BABY TIME

🪐 bts x f! pregnant! reader (separate)

🪐 headcanons // fluff+angst

☆ warnings: none except maybe no beta read !

a/n: potential part 2 for when the baby is born? depends on if people like this.. also just short hcs bcuz well.. i overdid myself and did all 7 in one post... sigh (i made tis longer than it was supposed to be wtf)

☆KIM SEOKJIN

"Aishh! you already had chocolate earlier!"

constantly watching your diet, making sure all your vitamin and certain intakes are proper

"Jin I'm craving ramyeon with milk mixed in.." "WHAT"

catching him ask his mom what she needed and what she wouldve done if she got pregnant again (he has no shame)

he's an absolute prince in your child's eyes

when he has to leave, he calls you at least every 2 hours and if he can't, he messages you!! (asking for pics of you and the baby)

in love with role-playing with the child, wether it be king and princess, or knights and bandits (you're the damsel in distress)

☆ | 🪐 | ☆

☆MIN YOONGI

honestly, he was terrified of being a father because of his experience with his own father

once he realized the whole weight of the situation, he understood that he WILL be a good (and supportive) father because you are with him

learning that your child also has a thing for music

absolutely bringing your baby to the studio and letting him have his own crib next to his producing set-up

has noise cancelling headphones for the baby if he has to record something or when he's going to fully focus on producing

(of course has the volume on his headphones a medium volume so he can hear if the baby wakes up)

made a joke about how in daechwita, you'd be his empress and the baby is the heir

cue him posting a photo of the three of you in traditional hanbok (yoongi in daechwita outfit, without the long hair because baby will be upset)

☆ | 🪐 | ☆

☆JUNG HOSEOK

always taking photos of your progress

"look here!"

he always tries to keep you active

massages all day everydayyy

you got him to chill with the dance practices so that he both doesnt overwork himself AND you get to spend more time with him

absolutely doing the silliest things to entertain the baby

it's obvious who the favorite is 😐

showing dance moves to the baby and doing silly faces

has a picture of the three of you in hope world, he loves staring at it and just being grateful for his family

he's j-hope, you're bae-hope, baby is mini/baby-hope

☆ | 🪐 | ☆

☆KIM NAMJOON

songs containing references and metaphors that relate to you and the baby (not that he DIDNT do this before)

maybe even a whole mini-album dedicated to your journey into parenthood, each song created throughout your progress till your due date

he did his thorough research on pregnancy and things related to it and constantly gives you advice

when the baby is old enough for long distance rides, family trips are a common thing

loves cradling the baby and blabbering about an art piece they're standing in front of

you're so in love? help???

he has 3 lil plants, the 3rd plant being a new sprout that he likes to say is the baby (it sprouted the day the baby was born?? omg???)

☆ | 🪐 | ☆

☆PARK JIMIN

you became an absolute princess the moment he found out you were pregnant

wonders if the baby would grow up to have the same fingers as his papa mochi

already planning to convince the baby to try a martial art or a type of dancing so he and his papa can have multiple ways of bonding

dropping hints about the baby mochi on some of his lives

one time he asked if he can try your breastmilk

😐😑😐

teasing him about how when the baby holds his fingers, they look the same

☆ | 🪐 | ☆

☆KIM TAEHYUNG

honestly you'd have around 2-3 kids

but this is your first one, taehyung is honestly nervous

absolutely SURE he wants to be a father but more worried on if he'd be a good one

at this point, he'd also be another baby

"Ack, my feet hurt quite a bit.." "AREYOUALRIGHT?DOYOUNEEDTOGOTOTHEHOSPITAL??ILLCALLDOCTORPARK"

you personally think he might be the one more stressed even when he isnt the one carrying the baby

2nd questioner of wifey's breast milk taste

yeontan and the baby being bestfriends

yeontan has super instincts and starts going wild when he feels the baby is about to start crying

☆ | 🪐 | ☆

☆JEON JUNGKOOK

he watched the movie Up with taehyung and they googled why the old couple had a miscarriage, he learned it was from lead exposure

so now he keeps you away from drying walls and dusty areas and even has a small baggy filled with masks and cleansing tissue

he calls it "baby protection protocal"

surprisingly very calm and responsible! (hes trying to win your trust so that he can spoil your child rotten)

absolutely DROPS the fact that he is having a child and dragged you into the view of the live

3rd questioner of wifey's breast milk taste

baby plays with daddy's lip ring because he finds it really cool

baby also thinks daddy's sleeve tattoo is cool and always wants to slobber his saliva on it

baby wants to ride on bam's back??? 😭😭😭😭

[genderlessjacky]

Dissecting the intro to Arcane S2 and predicting what the season is about before I watch it bc im hyperfixating , (pt1 because I'm gonna do the whole series)

THIS SCENE of Vi standing down bc she is still VI underneath it all , she hasn't changed , she still loves her sister , she is still clinging onto her sister , I KNOW that the line "you finally got the name right" scene happens but I saw the clip where she refers to jinx and powder as two different people and "Im not gonna let you stain her memory" so she still loves powder , she isn't killing powder , she has been dead a long time ago , she is killing Jinx now

and this scene where she stands up and does the 'pew' thing , it represents her finally leaving powder behind , bc we know in S1 , powder was still inside of her , the animators confirmed it with the rig turning powder expression to jinx but I sense this rig wont be used in season 2 . this can also be seen as her 'rising' to the throne , to take Silco's place as leader . Rising up from the ashes she created. and the way the light frames on her eyes can also represent her fully embracing jinx

also this little cut of VI not being there probably means she doesn't consider her a sister anymore , VI isn't in her life anymore , Silco isnt in her life anymore , she kills anyone who gets near her . so its just her now

GAHH this shot of Ekko standing on the line as in him standing on the 'line' between Piltover and Zuan , being the neutral side of the two battling cities is great framing actually , but the way his feet stand out perhaps means he is finally taking action in S2?

and here we see presumably Victor , with a blanket , staring at the mask , and the line is there AGAIN , so maybe he is also leaving Piltover? perhaps to return to Zuan or stay neutral if were taking the line of light into account? maybe he finally took the 'mask' off , seen the two sidedness of piltover and had enough of it

and here we see Ambessa sitting in her luxurious couch , draping the cloth over her and holding a black rose while ignoring all the scattered roses behind her , maybe Noxes is somehow involved in all this , maybe the scattered roses she is ignoring mean her past , and how is she ignoring it and only focusing on the one perfect rose in her hands .

"When my back is to the world , that was smiling when I turned" were the lyrics playing here , I heard that Cait's mother died in the explosion from somewhere so maybe this means she is gonna take drastic actions out of grief that noones supports , and it ends in someone betraying her or turning against her or she does something irrational that pushes everyone who supported her away?

"tell you you're the greatest" and here we see my boy Jayce being blinded by some type of light , and now we know that Jayce in S1 fully bought into the two sidedness of Piltover , maybe this season he somehow 'wakes up' , a light of truth shines of him , he is also injuried so maybe it was something that injuried him , that got though all his defenses , that finally woke him up to the truth

and HERE is the same black rose that I assume Ambessa was holding , maybe this season she somehow faces her past? the petal falling down may represent her somehow 'falling down' from grace?

okay if we assume this rose represents her past somehow or something she regrets , and its in the line of light and its framed in a way that it looks like a door is opening , maybe this season will bring to light her past or the thing she regretted? and she seems unwilling to put the rose in the light so maybe its against her will or something ,like she is forced to do so , maybe someone in her past caught up to her +

she is also seen scrunching up the rose the next scene so maybe this means she is trying to hide it or destroy the 'danger' from her past?

okay so the light is framed across her face and I've established that I think this line in some scenes means some sort of line between piltover and Zuan and in some scenes mean bringing something to light (and in some scenes its just for the aesthetic appeal) , and since she tried for peace in the last season before the whole jinx explosion thing. maybe this season she also tries to stand for neutrality , but the shadow hands maybe represent something or someone is forcing her to choose a side

and here we see jinx waving some sort of flag , and flag waving can mean declaring war on someone , and she looks transfixed on the flag , like shes mesmerized but also a look of sorrow? maybe she finally decides to finish what Silco couldn't , destroy Piltover and it has become her only goal

AAA okay the V on her face being an amazing detail aside , the light seems to be shining on her eyes alone , making the eye look like a similar color to Jinx's eye colour , so maybe proving my point that she somehow accepts that powder is gone and Jinx is the only one in her eyes

OKAY THESE FEW SCENES ARE A JOY TO FOCUS ON SO The lines colliding together , maybe means they are finally working together? being on the same side to stop Jinx?

OKAYOKAY SO the way they look at each other before hand and rush and kiss each other and end up 'butting heads' or flying apart? maybe they get together in this season but something or someone or some belief keeps them apart and they end up 'butting heads'?? POSSIBLE YURI MAKEUP AND THEN DIVORCE???

okay so this basically confirms that her mom died in this season or something major happens bc like the X written all over the scene and her panicking??

and also the hands in her shadow made it so that you can barely see any of 'her' in the shadow , perhaps this grief of her mothers death somehow scumming her so that she didn't even recognize her herself anymore

and her looking into the camera like she realized something , maybe she knew how horrid she was acting and the choices she made were wrong but still brought into them

and the way ekko ONLY runs on the line and never passes it? the fact that there are TWO lines maybe means he is uniting his forces against both piltover and zuan , viewing them as one entity or he is finally staying on one side?

and here , it blurs into one line , the other line cutting off and he jumps to the other line , it might mean something...

and jolly the way he jumps over the line , his feet not touching the floor and reversing time before her gets to the other side?? I fully support Ekko being a major player in this season

and the the next scene , the way Mel yells and the shadow hands immediately back away , maybe this season she is finally taking a stance on something

AND AHH the way she is in the same chair and instead of a red gown , its a white gown she is wearing (symbolizing purity ectect but ALSO possibly symbolizing her unwillingness to kill aka the reason she got booted out of Noxus) and instead of holding the black rose , she is reaching towards it and wanting to touch it and figure out what it is!! and she is also in the different pose then Ambessa , instead of looking all aloof on the couch , she looks down to earth and serious

and victors hand blocking the light and said light being the light that presumably shined on everyone , maybe he is also finally seeing the light in a way while the other had only a glimpse of it?

and him putting on the mask like RAHHH maybe he is going under some sort of facade? embracing the mask if you will? going undercover?? Turning into machine Herald??? PT 1 (you are here) / PT 2 (WIP)

[johnpriceslamb]

hihi could u maybe do an arthur morgan x fem!reader??

i was thinkin about the reader being really upset about something and which arthur (being that kinda person) he noticed quickly, they walked to his tent for then the reader to be comforted by arthur morgan (he isnt good at comforting but he tries real hard,, take ur time ofc! we love u-🎀

𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓯𝓪𝔀𝓷,

❥ You’re sad. Arthur finds out and comes to comfort you.

𝓑𝓔𝓕𝓞𝓡𝓔 𝓨𝓞𝓤 𝓟𝓡𝓞𝓒𝓔𝓔𝓓 ! ꒰ female ! reader . hyper-feminine ! reader . reader is mentioned 2 be physically shorter than characters mentioned below . crybbie reader sorraiiii . Karen’s a meanie pants but she loves reader . 1.1k wrd count. ꒱

❥ Arthur Morgan x female ! reader

You’re sensitive.

You don’t mean to be, but sometimes you take what people say a bit too seriously.

It’s not a bad thing to be sensitive, but you’re in a gang. A gang filled with murderers, thieves, criminals, whatever. You’re prone to being teased and made fun of- even more likely due to your soft nature and demure figure.

Usually, you spend your time doing chores or assisting Pearson with cooking. What you lacked in strength and courage to be able to hold a gun, you made up with your skills in being able to feed the gang actual food, instead of.. the usual stews Pearson made.

From then on, you gained the honouring title of ‘Pearson’s assistant.’

Then again you’d much prefer being referred to your actual name.

“—‘n I’m just sayin’..” The woman in blonde stirs her spoon in the stew you made, mindlessly blabbering about.

Karen was a sweet girl, she really is. But sometimes, she enjoys talking. A bit too much.

“You ain’t really uh.. fit for all this.” She gestures to camp.

Ouch.

You shrink in the log you sat upon, meekly fiddling with the utensil in your hand. You get where she’s coming from, but nevertheless you still took it to heart.

“Karen!” Mary-Beth softly hits her upper arm, a scolding tone picks on, “C’mon, lay off it.”

She shrugs. “‘M just saying what everyone wants to hear. It’s like seeing a fawn amongst a pack o’ wolves.”

She’s blunt. You’ve known her for a while, considered her as a friend. And you knew well enough that she does not sugar coat things. You’re not sure if you should take what she said as a compliment or not, but regardless you still feel a bit embarrassed at the fact that you didn’t really fit in.

“H—Hey,” You feel yourself crumble at the fact that your tone took on a higher pitch as a defence mechanism and the stuttering which makes her point stand even more bolder, “I’m.. I’m trying, okay?”

Karen looks at you with a demeaning expression. That’s all it takes to shut your pretty little mouth up.

Then, she lets out a soft giggle.

“C’mon girl, y’know I was just jokin’. You just sit there and look pretty for us.”

You take this as an opportunity to leave, going on with your day but with a heavy heart.

You find yourself near the lake which is situated just right beside the camp, staring off at the distance with a long look. You know Karen was just playing around, but you still can’t help that little sharp pang in your heart.

You don’t notice the approaching steps from behind. You hear the sound of fabrics scrunching together as they squat behind you, a warm hand lays gently on your shoulder.

“Hey.”

You tilt your head upwards, eyes landing on the loyal enforcer of the gang.

“Hi,” You whisper back. Unconsciously does your head lay on his chest, and almost immediately do you feel better being in Arthur’s embrace.

His arms wrap around you, a gentle kiss is placed on the side of your head. He lovingly looks at you, cold eyes which softens at the sight of his sweetheart. It falters a bit when they see those pretty eyes glimmer in the light.

“Y’alright?” He asks with a tone of concern. His arms tighten at the sight of your vulnerability.

“Mhm.” You meekly nod, feigning your expression with a soft smile, “I’m fine.”

“Mm.” His upper eyelids cover half of his eyes. His expression was almost lazy, dog-like. “No use lying to me, sweetheart. Yer lips quiver when you do.”

You almost melt at how lovely his voice sounded.

“C’mon,” He gestures for you to stand up. He lends you a hand for you to aid yourself onto your two feet, a hand rests upon the curve of your hip to guide you to his tent.

“Where we goin’?” You ask shyly, leaning into his touch.

“My tent. We’re goin’ to talk.” He replies blankly.

You don’t say anything until you’ve reached his tent. He guided you to the edge of his bed, allowing you to sit. He sizes you up a few times, quietly admiring you for a moment before sitting next to you, knees touching.

“What’s wrong, hm? Why’s gotten my girl so down?” Your hand unconsciously grabs onto his to squeeze, fiddle around with. He wants to chuckle at your puppy-like neediness but forces himself not to.

“..Just some stuff Karen said.” You meekly explain, fiddling with his fingers, “Said ‘m not really fit for.. any of this.”

“She said that?” He says with a frown, scratching at his strong jaw.

“Mm,” You nod.

“‘Reckon she’s right.”

“Eh?” You almost pout at how immediate he was to agree.

“Hey, c’mon. I ain’t even get to finish. I mean, she’s right. You don’t fit in. You’re too good for any of this.” He explains himself, biting his lip to prevent himself from doing anything to you. Your eyes did a lot to him, unbeknownst to you.

“Way too good.” He mumbles, lovingly rubbing circles on your little palm.

“You really think so?” You ask with a shy smile.

“I know so.” He nods, leaning in to press a little kiss on your forehea. He leans back to peer at your face again.

“C’mon, I know you.” He sighs, “Don’t let Karen’s words get to your mind. Even if you don’t really fit in, yer still one of us now. Y’hear?”

You shyly nod. With just one nod down to his lap do you immediately crawl towards him, cuddling up to him like a bug in a leaf.

[kenzdolls]

Ok, i read ur rules! And say in ur master list that you do mha? If you still do mha, (idk if this is ok to ask) but can you do some fluff + angst with bakugo x fem! Reader, where she has a black magic quirk, and from a very early age she’s heard voices in her head. And they stop for a bit but she heard them agian and freaks out! So bakugo notices shes veeery quiet and asks her whats wrong and she spills the truth about her quirk and how if she over uses it she hears voices telling her to do bad things(NOTHING SERIOUS)

Bakugo and reader have a sorta friendship but with something going on between them? (Mutual pinning)

I HOPE THIS IS OK!!! I read ur rules and i hope this isnt violating them 🙏😭

don’t worry it isn’t lmao! but I’d love to do this so tysm for sending this in! so without further ado. . . enjoy ദ്ദി(•̀ ᗜ <) !!

𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊

𖤐 synopsis: your quirk makes you different from others..you hear voices that give you malicious thoughts. but, your “friend” bakugou katsuki helps you silence them and explore both of your unspoken feelings for each other.

𖤐 trigger warnings: references to intrusive thoughts, mild psychological distress.

𖤐 pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem!reader

𖤐 side note: - - > 2nd part of this story

the voices had been quiet for months. you'd almost forgotten what it was like to have that constant background noise—the whispers that came with your quirk. black magic, they called it. the ability to manipulate shadows and dark energy, bending them to your will. it was powerful, useful even, especially during hero training at u.a.

but the cost was something no one else could see.

use us… we can make you stronger…

the first whisper came during lunch period. you froze mid-bite, your chopsticks hovering over your bento box as the familiar, slithering voice wrapped around your mind.

let us in… just a little more power…

"shut up," you muttered under your breath, closing your eyes tightly.

"the hell did you just say to me?"

your eyes snapped open to find bakugou katsuki standing over your lunch table, his crimson eyes narrowed with suspicion. of course, he'd choose now to approach. the two of you had this… thing. not quite friends, definitely not enemies. training partners who somehow always ended up paired together. late night study sessions that lasted longer than necessary. hands that lingered a second too long when passing notes.

"not you," you said quickly, heat rising to your cheeks. "sorry, i was just—"

he'll think you're crazy if you tell him. everyone always does.

"just what?" bakugou dropped into the seat across from you, his lunch tray clattering against the table. "you've been acting weird all morning. more than usual."

you managed a weak smile. "didn't know you paid such close attention, explosion boy."

he scoffed, but you didn't miss the slight pink tinge on his ears. "hard not to notice when you're spacing out during combat training. you nearly got yourself blasted."

you had almost forgotten about that. earlier in the day, during all might's class, you'd hesitated just a moment too long when the voices first started whispering again. bakugou had pulled his punch at the last second, his explosion detonating harmlessly to your left instead of directly in your face.

he's waiting for an answer. lie. lie.

"i'm fine," you said automatically, the rehearsed response you'd been giving teachers and classmates for years whenever the voices got bad.

bakugou’s eyes narrowed further. "bullshit."

the cafeteria around you buzzed with activity, your classmates laughing and chatting, oblivious to your internal struggle. kirishima and the others had left bakugou alone for once, perhaps sensing he had other plans for lunch period.

he'll leave you too when he knows the truth.

"i said i'm fine," you insisted, pushing your food away. your appetite had vanished the moment the voices returned.

bakugou leaned forward, his voice dropping to a growl that somehow managed to be both threatening and concerned at the same time. "you think i don't notice when something's off with you? we've been training together for months. i know when you're lying."

you stared at him, taken aback by his perceptiveness. it was easy to dismiss bakugo as just an aggressive hothead, but you'd learned there was so much more beneath that explosive exterior. he noticed things. he paid attention.

tell him… see how quickly he runs…

the voice was getting louder, more insistent. you pressed your palms against your eyes, trying to block it out.

"hey." bakugou’s voice softened marginally—as much as bakugou katsuki could soften anything. "let's get out of here."

before you could protest, he had grabbed both your bags and was heading for the exit, clearly expecting you to follow. and despite everything, you did.

he led you to the rooftop, a quiet spot where few students ventured during lunch. the spring air was cool against your skin, helping to clear your head slightly.

"talk," he demanded, dropping his bag and leaning against the railing.

you hesitated, wrapping your arms around yourself. "it's my quirk."

"what about it?"

don't tell him don't tell him don't—

"the voices are back," you blurted out, the words tumbling from your lips before you could stop them. "when i use too much of my quirk, they… they start talking to me."

bakugou’s expression didn't change, but he watched you intently, waiting for you to continue.

"they've been quiet for a while," you explained, pacing now. "i thought maybe i'd gotten better at controlling it. but this morning, during training when i used that shadow field technique… they came back."

he thinks you're weak. broken. useless.

you shuddered, and bakugou took a step closer.

"what do they say?" he asked, his voice uncharacteristically careful.

you laughed bitterly. "oh, you know. the usual. use more power. do bad things. helpful stuff like that."

bakugou’s face darkened. "have you told anyone? recovery girl? aizawa?"

you shook your head. "my parents know. it's been happening since i was little. the doctors said it's a… side effect. the darkness my quirk controls, it's like it has a consciousness of its own. the more i tap into it, the more it tries to influence me."

he'll report you. they'll expel you. you'll never be a hero now.

"they're talking right now, aren't they?" bakugo asked suddenly.

you froze, surprised again by his insight. "how did you know?"

"your eyes do this thing," he said, gesturing vaguely toward your face. "they get all unfocused, like you're listening to something far away."

you'd never realized you had a tell. the fact that bakugo had noticed made something warm flutter in your chest, momentarily drowning out the malicious whispers.

"yeah," you admitted. "they're telling me you'll think i'm crazy. that i should have kept my mouth shut."

bakugou snorted. "if i thought you were crazy, i wouldn't waste my time training with you."

he's lying to make you feel better. he pities you.

"they're saying you're lying," you said softly.

without warning, bakugou closed the distance between you, his hands gripping your shoulders. the touch was firm but not painful—grounding.

"look at me," he demanded.

you raised your eyes to meet his fierce crimson gaze.

"do i ever say shit i don't mean? do i ever fucking lie to make people feel better?"

you couldn't help but smile slightly. "no. that's… actually one of the things i like about you."

something flashed across his face—surprise, maybe even pleasure—before he schooled his expression back to determination.

"then believe me when i say this. i don't give a damn about the voices. we all have shit to deal with. my quirk could blow my arms off if i'm not careful. half-and-half has his daddy issues. deku has… well, everything about him. your thing is voices. so what?"

he doesn't understand. no one can understand.

"it's not that simple," you argued. "they get worse when i use more power. and sometimes…" you hesitated, never having admitted this part to anyone before. "sometimes i want to listen."

instead of recoiling in horror as you expected, bakugou’s grip on your shoulders tightened reassuringly.

"of course you do," he said gruffly. "power is tempting. i know that better than anyone. remember the sports festival?"

you did. his rage, his refusal to accept a victory he didn't earn. the way he'd been chained to the podium, wild-eyed and furious.

"but you didn't give in," you pointed out.

"neither will you," he said with absolute certainty. "you're too stubborn."

despite everything, you laughed. "was that a compliment, bakugou?"

he released your shoulders, a hint of that familiar scowl returning. "don't get used to it."

he'll never understand you like we do.

the whisper was softer now, less convincing. you took a deep breath, focusing on bakugo's presence—solid and real in front of you.

"they're quieter when you're around," you admitted. "i don't know why."

a flash of something like pride crossed his face. "good. then i'll just have to stick around more."

your heart skipped a beat. "what are you saying?"

bakugou crossed his arms, looking somewhat uncomfortable with the turn in conversation. "i'm saying next time they start talking, come find me. i'll make enough noise to drown them out."

the offer was so perfectly, uniquely bakugo that it made you smile despite everything. this gruff, explosive boy who showed his care through actions rather than words.

"are you sure?" you asked. "it could happen anytime. middle of the night. during class."

he shrugged. "so? not like i sleep much anyway."

he'll get tired of you. they all do.

"the voices say you'll get tired of helping me," you said quietly.

bakugou stepped forward again, and this time when his hand reached for you, it was to brush a strand of hair from your face with surprising gentleness.

"let me make something clear," he said, voice low and intense. "i don't do shit i don't want to do. and i don't walk away from challenges."

"is that what i am? a challenge?" you weren't sure if you should be offended or flattered.

the corner of his mouth quirked up in that half-smile that always made your heart race. "you're a pain in my ass. but…" he hesitated, clearly wrestling with what to say next. "you're my pain in the ass."

coming from bakugou, it was practically a declaration of love.

he'll never—

the voice was cut off as bakugou’s hand cupped your cheek, his calloused palm warm against your skin. for once, his perpetual scowl was gone, replaced by something softer, more vulnerable.

"tell the voices to shut the hell up," he murmured, "because i'm about to kiss you."

your breath caught in your throat. "bakugou…"

"katsuki," he corrected. "if we're doing this, you use my name."

"katsuki," you whispered, testing the feel of it on your tongue.

and then his lips were on yours, firm and warm and insistent. the voices that had plagued you all morning fell completely silent, drowned out by the thundering of your heart and the sensation of bakugou—no, katsuki—pulling you closer.

when you finally broke apart, the silence in your mind was blissful. whether it would last, you couldn't know. the voices would return eventually. but for now, with bakugou’s arms around you and his forehead pressed against yours, they couldn't reach you.

"they're gone," you breathed in wonder.

he smirked, that cocky confidence returning. "told you i could drown them out."

the bell rang in the distance, signaling the end of lunch period.

"we should get back," you said reluctantly.

bakugou didn't loosen his hold. "skip with me."

your eyes widened. "skip class? you never skip class."

"first time for everything," he shrugged. "besides, we need to figure out how to deal with those voices. might take all afternoon."

"and how exactly are we going to do that?" you asked, unable to keep the smile from your face.

his answering grin was both wicked and tender. "i have some ideas. but first—" he leaned in again, his lips brushing yours softly, "let's make sure they stay quiet a little longer."

as you melted into his kiss, you couldn't hear a single whisper—just the beating of two hearts and the promise that whatever darkness came, you wouldn't face it alone.

taglist: [open]

mutuals: @https-bakugo @haikyuubby @va-3 @lotusstarr @tulippanes @gh0st-g1rll @luvseraphh

© property of kenzdolls

[rilestothemiles]

a semi lengthy post on the relationship between the drakes:

disclaimer: I am too lazy to find more panels than what I already have so u kinda have to just trust me when I say stuff which works a lot better over on twitter where people actually Know Me but. I will cite the panels I have used and highly encourage u all to read robin 1993.

I know this is an unpopular opinion but I think the dc fandom, the part that actually reads the comics, does way too big of a pendulum swing on fanon’s crazy abusive drakes thing. I do think the drakes neglect tim and neglect is a form of abuse. it’s not inaccurate to call the drakes abusive. I do however think calling them awful parents is a stretch.

the fanon portrayal IS inacurate, I feel mainly due to the fact that they leave out how much love they all had for each other. and you can see that shown over and over again. especially the way jack speaks to tim right after janet's death and with jack’s reaction tim being stranded in no man’s land.

(batman (1937) #480)

(robin (1993) #72)

is his reaction in no man’s land a dramatic one? yes. is it unwarranted? not at all. for all jack knows, tim could die. and his response to that is anger. something any parent fearful of losing their kid would exhibit. he clearly cares deeply about tim’s wellbeing, in fact, he cares so much he makes sure the news of tim being trapped in no man’s land is shown on every station.

(robin (1993) #72)

which, while embarrassing for tim, ends up being pretty much the sole power no man’s land comes to an end. go dad power!

(robin (1993) #73)

in addition to that, tim clearly mourns his parents. not that you cant mourn an abuser, but that’s not what this is.

(detective comics (1937) #621)

(identity crisis (2004) #6)

not to mention, of course, that tim did have mrs. mac when the drakes were on trips. he was not left home alone edit: I have since been corrected by the lovely spoilerjpeg that mrs. mac was not hired until after jack drake woke up from his coma. it is assumed that tim was at boarding school during these years, given the drakes did not have a place of permanent residence before.

in contagion, when tim is literally on his death bed he hallucinates his family, alive, happy, together, and aware of his identity. he misses his mom. he very clearly loves her, and he sees himself running up into her arms.

(the batman chronicles (1995) #4 - begger's banquet)

tim's identity remains a point of tension, as tim desperately wants to reveal it to his dad, but cant, as it would compromise the identities of the rest of the bat family. you see this illustrated as early as batman 480 which I reference in this post multiple times, and the issue of robin in their relationships remains up until the death of jack drake. it hits a peak in issue 124 of robin 93, where jack discovers tim's identity and is well, upset. saddened. afraid. his first thought isn't anger, it's immense grief. he's clearly afraid of losing tim, he mourns the him. and this panel is later paralleled with tim's reaction to jack's death. jack doesn't even blame tim, he instantly goes to bruce, filled with grief and anger. he doesnt know what to do. and how do you threaten bruce wayne or batman? let alone both? bruce has endangered his child for years now, without telling him, and his eyes, forbidden his kid from telling him, this reaction, in my opinion, makes complete sense, and I honestly commend jack drake for it. it takes balls to stand up to bruce/batman and he's doing it for his kid.

(robin (1993) #124)

all this being said, I think the drakes never really wanted to be parents. it’s the expectation of the times. theyre academics, travelers, their lifestyle isnt suited to that of a child’s.

(robin (1993) #11)

(batman (1937) #480) - the note reads: "Dear Dad, I wish could go back and start over again! When I was a kid, I used to dream - to pray - that you and mom would stop travelling, forget business and just settle down. We'd be together, the way a family ought to be... now I have my wish. I'm going to with you all the time. And it's tearing me apart."

tim addresses that letter to "the father I never knew." tim and jack got the chance to rectify that, but tim and janet’s relationship never really had the time to recover from it and I think tim can have an idealized version of her in his head as a result of it.

jack really fails tim in a number of ways. he says he’ll make an effort after janet dies and you expect for that to be a catalyst for him, especially because he actively says it will be, and it isnt.

he does this a number of times. he says he’ll make an effort and then he doesnt. or he ends up making a huge amount of effort all at once and then stops, the cycle repeats. tim learns to expect it.

(batman (1937) #480)

(robin (1993) #15)

later, he goes way too hard on the strict dad thing, which I get, because tim isnt an easy kid by any means, but he forgets that tim has never Had that structure, and he needs to actually build the relationship’s foundation first if he wants to decide to be a parent now, and he never does.

(batman (1937) #480) - the note reads: "Funny. how once you never seemed to care - at least, you never showed me that you did. And now you want to run my life. Do you really think we can start over..?"

jack also often doesnt even give tim the chance to explain himself, even in situations that really weren't his fault.

(robin (1993) #44-45)

it never really ends up being just tim and his dad, because the second jack gets out his coma he brings in dana, and shes honestly what keeps the relationship from not worsening. dana is often the mediator, telling dana to ease up on tim. it’s dana who influences jack to put in an effort. shes the catalyst, not janet’s death.

(robin (1993) #47)

warning for the upcoming pages - mentions of underage (consensual) sex as an unhealthy coping mechanism after an implied sexual assault (from someone outside the relationship)

(robin (1993) #45)

even with her mediating, things are still rough between jack and tim. jack very clearly has no idea how to parent tim, never really having had to before. tim has always been extremely self sufficient, mainly due to his parents' neglect.

(baatman (1937) #480) - the note reads: "I've no idea who you think I am, Dad - but I'm not that boy. I had to fend for myself for a long time. I changed, Dad. I have a lot of... secrets."

jack really never had to discipline tim, mainly as a result of often not being around to do it. which means he is not always the best parent, and not what tim needs. he also misinterprets a lot of tim's behaviours that he has as a result of being robin as a sign of disrespect.

(robin (1993) #45)

dana's presence is also another point of conflict as well, another way tim’s belief that jack will always choose something/someone else over him is reinforced. and he’s not wrong to think it. jack’s neglect of tim continues well after janet dies.

(robin (1993) #12)

I think tim is right to be pissed when jack all of a sudden decides to step up. I think jack’s reactions to tim’s actions make sense, but I cant defend them when he hasnt created the foundation needed to execute that. plus, he switches often between being too strict, with him watching tim too closely and judging him for it, and being neglectful.

I see a lot of people say “tim doesnt make an effort either!” well. Yeah. hes never had to before. and it’s not On Him to make that connection at all. hes the kid. and honestly the effort jack makes, especially in the start, feels like a way to display his masculinity to dana. or just... strange. and maybe not what tim needs, instead being what jack tries to project onto him.

(total justice (1996) #1)

I think sometimes people end up projecting on tim and/or projecting their parents on the drakes and they dont want to acknowledge their own parents’ mistakes, so they defend the drakes'.

the drakes arent bad parents, but they arent good ones either. they're human, at the end of the day. theres a lot of love between the drakes, and a lot of hurt too. it’s very hard to find nuanced conversations about that. I think they have a very realistic relationship, especially given the times.

[ceilidho]

coworker soap who frames the fleshlight thing as a joke but with a creepy undercurrent that you cant understand why you know it isnt a joke but you also dont wanna rock the boat so you dont tell hr bc johnny the ex-military man is a model employee otherwise and you cant help but feel hot shame run down ur spine when he says it that you are, at least a little, flattered by it bc shit dude hes HOT. coworker soap who just. doesnt bring it up again. its just boiling rhe frog. he says weird, borderline creepy shit that could be passed off as "guy talk" in any other situation (regardless of readers gender). He follows you around like a puppy and where it used to be normal for you, you feel a little creeped out now but. everyone. already refers to you as a duo. itd be weird if you stopped for no reason? right?

i don't know what broke in my mind long ago that this is like, the weirdly hottest thing in the world to me but im genuinely twitching over it right now.

model employee Johnny, knows the handbook inside and out, walks elderly customers to their cars with their bags, shows up to work early for every shift, always with a smile and a positive attitude. management loves him because his sales are also record high (i mean, it makes sense - i wouldn't be able to say no if he was helping me with a purchase and tried to upsell me). he's also a spokesperson for the company in all of their internal training videos because he was hired through some "jobs for vets" program that they just rolled out (idk i'm making this up). and the guy can stack things on a shelf like no one's business lmao like MILITARY precision/organization.

all your coworkers love him and genuinely like fist pump whenever they get put on the schedule with him because he's a blast to work with, and some of your coworkers are actually incredibly jealous that he just seems to follow you around everywhere. hangs off your every word. always seems to just pop out from around the corner whenever you're having trouble reaching something on a shelf.

but he says weird, uncomfortable shit to you sometimes. way over the line. you don't even know what to say at first when Johnny jokingly tells you that he has a fleshlight at home that he's named after you, just laughs and then stares at you for a second. and you like, give a little awkward laugh, growing more uncomfortable by the second the longer he stares at you without blinking. until something passes over his eyes and suddenly he's back to normal, clapping you on the arm and wandering off back to the men's apparel section.

he does a lot of strange shit actually. maybe insists on walking you to your car when the two of you are on the closing shift and it's well into the evening. laughs a little too hard and with too much vigour when someone calls him your shadow, his eyes just a little too bright and fervent. asks if you want to sit on his lap while he shows you how to use the forklift in the backroom. begs management to let him take his breaks with you and doesn't let you have a moment of peace, just sits with you in the breakroom or follows you to your car when you say that you're going out for lunch.

and you can't complain to any of your coworkers because the second you so much as criticize his work, they bark at you to be nice to him. he's just re-acclimating to civilian life, of course he's not perfect at his job yet. they defend him viciously. and the real jealous ones even tell on you in front of him, leaving you standing there embarrassed and on the spot until Johnny just smiles and says that it's alright. you'll just have to teach him better.

[fipindustries]

Out of curiosity, what was 4chan like? I mostly know it as the place Nazis hung out.

i think this is very hard for me to answer, because i liked the place. i had a strong emotional conection to the place and because of that i am very biased and i have very rose tinted glasses about the whole affair. i can try to communicate what it was like for me to be in 4chan, i could say that it was a place that was "harsh, but fair" or "grimy but honest" but im worried that wouldnt be an accurate depiction of what 4chan was like. maybe it was that, long long ago, before 2014. but that is definetly not what it was in its last years

i always tried my best to be as honest as possible whenever i reference 4chan in my art, whether that was fan.tastic, or my /co/venture comics or episode 9 of jennyffer, so if you take a look at those you might get a decent idea.

this is all further complicated by the fact that 4chan wasnt just a single website. you heard that joke about how america isnt just one country but actually a bunch of different states in a trenchcoat, each with its own diverse and wildly different cultures? much like maine is not the same as alabama is not the same as oregon is not the same as california is not the same a utah. /co/ was not the same as /tv/ which was not the same as /mu/ which was not the same as /x/ which was not the same as /t/. every single board in 4chan could be very different from every other one. places like /pol/ were very much "the place where nazis hung out" but places like /tg/ could be fairly chill places to hang out at. /d/ you just went there to look at the horny pictures and maybe have a semi ironic gender crisis, /tv/ was kind of pedo central, and /po/ is just a delightful little space to talk about origami.

but what was the general experience of it all? the resulting ghestalt?

first you have to start with a base background radiation of cynicism. and i dont mean jaded, wizened cynicism borne out of life experience, i mean curdled, teenage acerbic cynicism that seeks to view everything under the worst light and read the worst possible interpretation of everything because the world sucks, man.

thing is, when i say background radiation i mean it in the sense that after a while its easy to tune out. a little harder to tune out was, you know, the rampant racism transphobia, etc. and i think im not wrong in saying that it has gotten a lot worse in the last few years. i am very good at not paying attention to that (not necesarily a good skill to have) and even i had a hard time going there these last few years because of how aggressive it had gotten.

now the thing about negativity and cynicism is that there is a reason why people flock to it. because it can be funny, it can be incisive. anton ego said it best when he said that critics live of writing down negative criticism because its fun to write and read. and being on 4chan could be really fucking funny. they were really good at coming up with memes. they were good at the witty retort and the funny take downs. again, you had to go through a lot of boring, tedious half assed negativity, but you could always find something to laugh at or be amused by. this, of course shone at its best if there was something that you were hatewatching. lord i remember the got threads or the true detective season 2 threads. holy fuck that was a lot of fun.

but also beyond that, because these people are humans, they couldnt help but occassionally genuenly enjoy things. if you had a general (a perpetual thread exclusively dedicated to discussing one specific topic) you could find very positive praise and interactions there. the /sug/ threads dedicated to steven universe were genuenly fantastic, as well as the /madmen/ threads.

and while we are on the subject, i am the kind of person who tends to find excessive negativity more tolerable than excesive positivity. that's one reason i cannot fucking stand reddit or most discord servers. and on a more personal note, i feel more comfortable around people that are unpleasant and aggressive and offensive because then i know i dont have to watch over my behavior with them as much as i have to with people who are too squicky clean or who care too much about not stepping on toes or not making people uncomfortable. of course this comes at the price of hanging around people who are unpleasant to be around so, you know, to each their poison.

also, this was at its worst on the more popular boards, dedicated to the more mainstream hobbies like video games, anime, tv and movies and so on. places with more niche hobbies like /po/ or /ck/ were more populated by genuine hobbists who just wanted to talk about their interests. and even in the more mainstream boards if you found a niche enough topic where most trolls wouldnt be interested in participating, you could get fantastic discussons about a thing you couldnt really discuss anywhere else. another place to have nice interactions would be on OC threads where the anons would make stuff for other anons to see, whether they be an art thread or a music thread or the musical events or any other kind of creative collaborative effort. usually in those spaces they were more interested in participating and getting things done.

so yeah, i would say that modern 4chan was definetly a cesspool of bigotry and negativity in the more general broad areas but if you could find a specific thread talking about a specific niche hobby and you were lucky enough that they liked the topic you could find echoes of that old romanticised 4chan of times past where they were edgy and agressive but fun to be around.

personally i think the best board was far an wide (again, for 4chan standards) /tg/ tradicional tabletop games and rpgs. the best combination of big enough that there was constant lively discussion but chill enough that they werent intolerable to be around. if i had to guess why its because unlike most hobbies rpgs make you hang out and collaborate with other people and put a lot of creative effort for the sake of others which forces a minimum ammount of sociability in you.