Tumgik
#and not feel on the verge of tears and/or a panic attack????
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-missing puzzle pieces-
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featured character ☆ dazai osamu
tag(s) ☆ angst
tw ☆ suicide, basically the two of you die together (ahem...), that dramatique backstory, swear words, i don't know anymore :')
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        A dark, quiet night. A full moon shone as it reflected the riverbank of Yokohama. "I... like you!" you shout to Kunikida, the wind gently blows the moment you shouted. A few dried up brown-ish leaves strolled by, you could hear the high-pitched whines of cicadas in the background. Kunikida looked towards you, the two of you had a little bit of distance in between. Kunikida looked like he had an apologetic expression on his face as he then proceeds to smile softly; 
        "Y/n, thank you for liking me. I appreciate you and like you as a friend but I'm not interested in dating. So please y/n, please find someone who will love and admire you dearly." Kunikida waited for you to reply as he apologized once again. You were really trying your best to hold back your tears even though it was so hard. If only you had a shoulder to cry on, or even a person to comfort you. Apologies are simply for people who want to feel better for themselves, not others, and so they won't feel like they have a heavy weight to carry in their hearts. Your fists were clenched tightly as you proceeded to tell him that you're still glad to have confessed. The two of you slowly walked away. Once you were far away from Kunikida, you ran as fast as you could. Tears streamed down your eyes, you could barely breath (y/n literally on the verge of having a panic attack)  
        Once again, you face rejection once more. You want to be loved so desperately but no one loves you in this heartless, plain world. Your vision was also extremely blurry from all the tears you had shed and so, you accidentally bumped into someone. "Oh? Y/n, what are you doing so late?" you wiped away your tears to see who it was; It was Dazai, your fellow suicidal colleague. Without any doubt, you still continued to ran. This interested Dazai and so, he chased after you. You heard footsteps and decided to look who was behind you. "Dazai, stop following me...!" "You didn't answer my question yet though."  
This mother fucker. Why is he so nosy...? 
        You were so close to the Detective Agency and once you arrived you quickly climbed up the dark emerald green looking stairs which lead to the rooftop. The wind was a lot more strong and you could see the dark night view. You walked a few steps almost stepping down which would be your one-way ticket to death's door. "Y/n! Don't you dare fall yet!" Dazai screamed at the top of his lungs to get your attention. "Well, why not?! Can't I die already? Have I not suffered enough from this cruel world where I've lost everything dear to me and in this world where no one loves nor appreciates me for who I am?! And you're telling me not to jump off yet? Just who do you think you are?!" you could feel you voice crack. Your voice is becoming quieter and quieter. Your cheeks feeling slightly moist. 
        Crap... I'm not crying again, am I...? I suppose I can use this opportunity to jump off?
        You slowly step back and fall but as soon as you attempt to die, Dazai grabs onto your wrist "Not so fast, y/n." "What do you want..." "Y/n, what happened? What do you mean by no one loves or appreciates you? What do you mean that you lost everyone dear to you?" Dazai's voice was soft and gentle. "I...I've been rejected too many times to the point where I think love doesn't exist. I lost my parents when I was nine years old. I have been betrayed and toyed with my feelings by many people." 
        "Y/n... Though I understand the pain you're feeling-" at that moment, Dazai got cut off.
        "NO! What do you understand?! Surely you haven't suffered this much!" you yelled, in rage. "I haven't been through all this but, if you're going to die... Die with me." Dazai's eyes seemed lifeless as he let out a smile "Y...You want to do a double suicide?" your tone softened as you asked him this question "Why not, hm? After all, it's something I really want to achieve. I found out maybe I could die with you." 
        "Then... You wouldn't mind if you went to hell either, would you?" "Of course not." he smiled softly "...Why don't we both go to hell, then?" "Anything to get out of this world." "Of course." Dazai let go of your wrist and proceeded jumped down with you; A perfect double suicide that he had finally achieved. 
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No hate on Kunikida!! Couldn't find anyone better to reject y/n formally(?) P.S. it's my first time writing angst so apologies if it's shitty.
-fuyuko
©fuyukohasnocreativity do not copy, repost, or translate. likes and reblogs are accepted and appreciated!
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meanwhileatzafiros · 1 year
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Spread the news: When your brain stops forcing you to be productive 24/7 by guilt tripping you into never taking time for yourself, you end up getting more done anyway and you don’t hate yourself in the process! More at 7.
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famefckr · 2 months
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its after midnight which means i turn 30 tomorrow...
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shoutsindwarvish · 7 months
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my mental health isn’t doing so hot you guys
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cetoddle · 2 months
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GOD. this guy came in after i already ran his reservation as a no show and i’m trying to figure out what to do and he’s yelling at me like SHOUTING at me and i’m scared and my managers not helping and i don’t know what’s going on
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sakebytheriver · 1 year
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...
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mostly-imagines · 17 days
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So This Is Love
jason todd x fem!reader
aka you show each other what love is supposed to be like
4 in 1 blurbs
warnings: section 1: close-call panic attack for j, mentions of ptsd for j // section 2: implied sexual activity // section 3: mild angst w comfort // section 4: implied ptsd for j
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He feels like his heart might burst through his chest.
The nightmare wasn’t anything unusual for him, but it did feel particularly vivid tonight. It was more of a memory than anything, though. That same one that plays on a loop in his head throughout the night the more he tries to push it away during the day. It was the last thwack of the crowbar that had him jolt awake in bed.
You shift in your spot next to him, opening your eyes to see his rattled state. If he’d been in a clearer frame of mind he would’ve lied to you. He would’ve expertly leveled his breathing and told you everything was fine and to go back to sleep.
But instead, he looks over at you with wide eyes, chest heaving and shaking like he might start hyperventilating at any moment.
You shoot up from the bed, instantly on alert. This isn’t the first time he’s had one of these nightmares around you, so it’s not hard for you to guess where this is coming from.
“Jay? What’s—what do you need?” You know better than to try and touch him unprompted right now, you’ve panicked enough yourself to know that sudden contact only makes it worse.
“I—I can’t, I—” Now he really looks like he’s about to lose all control of his breathing.
You sit up further, moving onto your knees. “Here, let me—can I see your hand?” you ask gently, holding your own out.
He extends it to you without question, a tiny act of vulnerability that he couldn’t have dreamed of doing in this state before he met you.
You flip his hand over, palm-up and start tracing lines over it in the moonlight. You’re looking at his hand quite intently like there’s something very important on it. It’s enough to make him question what the hell you’re doing. 
“I can read palms.” You tell him, simply. 
“What?” His voice almost breaks, like he’s right at the edge of tears. 
“Yeah, my friend taught me. I can tell the future and everything.” You look up at him, fingers not stopping their trailing. “Do you wanna hear yours?”
All he can do is nod.
You smile and start to inspect his hand carefully, tracing over calluses and a few tiny scars. You draw your finger across the short, deep line parallel to his fingers.
“This one…see the way it curves upwards right there?” He nods. “That means you’re very resourceful and ambitious. Like a leader.” His breathing starts to slow as he watches you, trying to focus on what you’re showing him in the dim light from the window.
“And this one,” you trace the line that curves downwards in the middle, “This one says that you’re strong and stubborn, which I can confirm,” he huffs out a laugh. It’s little but it’s genuine. “But it also means that you’re resilient. You’re built to overcome things and bounce back even stronger because of them. Which I can also confirm.”
He leans forward, resting his forehead against yours. He takes in a deep breath, watching you draw patterns across the base of his palm.
The sensation soothes him in a way that he frankly didn’t know he could be soothed. He figures he usually can’t, except when it’s you. He tries to match your breathing, syncing up with you. If anyone else tried to get this close to him when he was on the verge of a panic attack they’d get punched, at best.
But you…you always know how to help him. He’s considered in the past that he did something really right somewhere down the line and you were sent to him as reward. He’d racked his mind for hours of every good thing he’d ever done, trying to find one that could explain your presence in his life. For anything that could explain why he deserved you. He poured and poured over every memory he could dig up but couldn’t find any good he’d ever done that surmounted to a single piece of the good in your heart.
There was a time when he would’ve thought—when he did think that you were only in his life to be taken away as soon as he felt safe. That would certainly be in line with previous experiences. But you showed him quickly that you have this way about you…it makes those loud thoughts in the back of his head shut up and just listen. Listen to your words, your breathing, your footsteps, your laugh…anything he could. Because it turns out, when he listens, he feels safe. 
He’s quiet for a long time, contentedly watching you work. He notices that at some point you’d stopped tracing the lines and began drawing designs instead. 
He breaks the silence after several minutes, softly commenting, “You don’t know how to read palms.”
“No, I do not.” 
But you continued to leave your invisible art on the palm of his hand just the same, both of you taking comfort in the sound of the other's breathing and the soothing feeling of each other’s skin.
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The radio plays lightly in the background, surrounding your night with soft ambience. You’re working at the cutting board with tomatoes as Jason leans against the counter next to you, having just finished getting the pasta set up on the stove.
His hands find your hips, resting them there as he watches you work over your shoulder.
“Watch your thumb.” He comments when the knife gets a little too close for his liking.
You shrug him off, “I know how to do it.”
He eyes the way the knife stutters as you cut through the tomato, slicing through not very cleanly at all. “Doesn’t look like it.”
You ignore him, elbowing him gently in the abdomen. He’s joking, but he’s not. The skill level you’re displaying is only above Bruce and slightly below Tim, which is not great.
“Will you let me do it?” he asks you when he realizes there’s going to be no improvement. 
“Fine.” You relent with faux annoyance. 
You switch over to the stovetop, keeping a careful eye on the pasta as it cooks. It’s quiet for a moment as he works, chopping with much more efficiency than you had.  
“You didn’t have to stay here tonight, you know.” You say quietly, still intently watching the stove.
In spite of the music, your low volume does nothing to faze him as he continues his actions, “Why wouldn’t I?”
You stir the contents of the saucepan around. “Well, I know Roy wanted you to go out…”
“Not missing much.” He mumbles, opening up the above cabinet to get out plates.
You lull your head to the side, “Come on, he’s your best friend.”
Jason frowns. “He’s not my best friend.”
You turn your head towards him, “No?”
He meets your gaze, frown consistent. “No. You are.” He says it like he’s confused that you don’t know that. 
“Oh.” You smile, “You’re my best friend too.”
His eyes soften at that, a light smile gracing his lips. He knew that, and he knew you’d say it, but hearing it out loud just…does something to him.
You flick the stove top off, prompting him to on instinct reach for the Marinara jar and crack it open for you. He hands it to you and you accept with a smile, twisting it open the rest of the way as you turn back to the stove. The jar sputters as you open, spitting out sauce.    
“Oh, shit.” You hiss, when the splatter hits your shirt.
He takes one glance at the mess on your shirt and pulls his own shirt off his back. He’s tugging yours off just as fast, replacing it with his. You’ve barely processed what happened as he scans your body, eyes lingering on where his shirt stops at your thighs. “Can you wear this to bed tonight?” He asks, hands running over your waist.
You laugh, “Really?”
He meets your eyes, face serious. “Yes.” He squeezes your hip, “You look good.”
“In your shirt.” You say with a knowing smile.
“In my shirt.” He confirms.
You turn back to the stove to dish out the salsa, his hands skimming around your thighs as you do. He watches you as you work, though rather than watching your hands he’s fixated on the size of his shirt over you and how fucking good you look right now. 
“Or…” He sweeps his eyes over your legs before looking back up at you again. “Did’ya turn the stove off?”
You tilt your head at him, “I did…?”
He grins at you, lifting you up by your thighs til you’re a head above him. “Good.” He maneuvers you over to the counter, setting you on top. He brings your wrist up to his mouth to press a delicate kiss before dropping to his knees.
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You’ve been laying in bed for at least three hours, bordering on sleep but never quite falling in. You and Jason had a little spat, though nothing insurmountable, it was still the biggest fight you’ve had to date. You’d tried going out (at night) to see your friend that was having a hard time, and yeah, you should’ve told Jason you were going. It was only five blocks, give or take, but in Gotham at eleven o’clock at night, it’s a risk to say the least.
You should’ve told Jason, you know. But he wouldn’t have let you go or would’ve insisted on putting hold on patrolling to accompany you. You always feel bad when he does that—people could be getting hurt somewhere because you needed your boyfriend to walk you down the street. Unfortunately, it didn’t matter in the end because he caught you red handed before you’d even made it a full block away. Of all the nights for him to come home early, it had to be this one.
He dropped down from the rooftop behind you and scared the absolute hell out of you, and you didn’t even have time to be relieved that it was just him because he was on you in a flash. 
“What the hell are you doing out here?” His voice was hard through the modulator, a rare tone for him to use with you.
“I just—my friend—” he sounded tired and angry, sure signs that he’d really not had a good night so far which was probably all the more reason that you shouldn’t have been out by yourself in the middle of the night.
“What are you—no! Go home. Now.” You would’ve, you really would’ve, but your friend called you crying about her boyfriend cheating on her again and she needed the in person support. 
“Ja—” You’d cut yourself off, “It’s down the street, it’s fine—” He dropped his shoulders in a huff and faced you dead-on. You didn’t need him to take his helmet off to know exactly how he was looking at you.
He dropped down and hooked his arm around the back of your legs, lifting you off the ground with no discernible effort. “Wha—”
He started walking before you were even fully planted on his shoulder, arm wrapping around your legs to hold you in place. 
“Hood! I am so fucking serious, put me down!” You swatted at his back and struggled in his grip, though in the back of your mind you knew it was a pointless effort. Even if you were a match in size, whatever mood he’d been pushed in was enough to guarantee that you had no chance. 
He ignored you, not even pretending that you were giving him any difficulty with your squirming. He marched you back down the block to your apartment, not stopping until you’re outside your door. He set you down in between him and the entrance, digging into his pocket for his key.
He kicked the door shut behind him, finally letting you go. He wordlessly grabbed one of his spare guns and two cartridges of ammo from inside the closet by the door and turned back to you with a firm stance. “Stay here.”
You immediately tried to push past him again, at that point more angry about him dragging you back here than about having to duck out on your friend. He stopped you, holding you by the arms, which led you to respond by raising your voice at him, “Jason!” 
But he didn’t waste any time letting you know how it is, “I will lock you in this fucking apartment. Stay. Here.” Him cursing at you like that was very rare and not a particularly good sign, so through your anger you’d made the decision that it was better to relent, for now. Your posture dropped and you frowned at him resentfully, a visible cue that you were giving in without you having to say it. 
He stayed true to his word and locked the door on his way out, though knowing you could easily unlock it from the inside. You’d trudged into your bedroom, slamming the door behind you.   
Now you lay on Jason’s usual side of the bed, partially because you do miss him, partially because the bed feels a little less empty when you can’t see all the empty space. You know he was just trying to keep you safe after what was probably a rough start to the night, so you feel less than great that you’d yelled at him.
Your dwelling over the memory is interrupted by a quiet creak of the bedroom door. You blink up at him blearily, “Jay?” You sit up, furrowing your brow. You didn’t even hear him come home. “What’s wrong?” You figure he must be hurt to come in here—it’s not unknown for him to sleep on the couch if he feels like he did something wrong or upset you.   
Your eyes attempt to adjust to the darkness, scanning over him for any injuries. He’s out of his armor and in his regular clothes which means he must have showered already. And you know from dozens of nights patching him up that he always tends to his injuries before showering.
This leaves you confused, as you look up at him, waiting for an answer. “I can’t…I don’t want to sleep without you.” He whispers, eyes on the floor. 
You shuffle back into your usual spot near the wall and hold your hand out to him expectantly. You’re still a bit cross with him, but you miss him too much to care right now.
It takes him a second to move, but he eventually lingers away from the door and makes his way to the bed. He takes your hand as he climbs onto the bed, letting go only when you lay down after him, staring up at the ceiling next to him. 
You weren’t entirely expecting him to wrap his arms around you and tug you into his chest. Somewhere in the back of your mind you’d assumed he would lay on his side and you on yours and that would be enough for him to fall asleep with. Instead, he tightens his arms and buries his face into the crook of your neck. You lay there in silence for a couple minutes, both thinking.
“You’re mad.” He mumbles into your shoulder after a while. You know he feels badly about the dispute, you knew it while it was still happening. As hard as he tries, he’s not very good at hiding his emotions. Not with you, anyways.
You shrug slightly. “Barely. I’ll get over it. This is more important.”
He picks his head up to look at you, “I love you. You know that?”
You wiggle out of his grip a bit, making him frown. You use the new space to flip over to face him, before placing his arm back around your waist. You peek up at him, looking him in the eyes, “I do. You know I love you. Even when we fight.”
He looks at you like he’s a bit thrown off by your words. “I’m sorry. It was just…it was a rough night…I—I’m sorry.” He tells you dolefully.  
You shake your head, frowning. “Don’t be. I should’ve texted you.”
“It—yeah. Please. I just worry about you.” He looks so sad and it makes you feel somehow worse.
“I know,” you whisper, “I’m sorry.”  
“Don’t be.” He kisses your forehead, not moving away after.
You feel like you can finally relax and your tense body doesn’t take long to slacken in his hold. Soon after, he does the same, both of you closing your eyes. You feel your heart slow and your mind starts to find a space of peace.    
Before you crash out, you mumble out, “I’m going to be a little passive aggressive in the morning, though.”
“I’d hope so.”
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Jason didn’t get it at first.
Honestly, he didn’t really realize that you noticed things about him that even he didn’t see.
Your neighbor was having their place remodeled and you knew there would be construction going on near your apartment all day.
Jason didn’t really care, planning to bury his head under the pillow and trying to sleep through it. You however, seemed very adamant about getting out of the apartment that day. You’d left hours before the construction crew had even gotten there, telling him it was a nice day out.
It was an alright day, but he let you have your way.
You held his hand as you walked down the street, looking into shop windows and commenting on things you think he’d like.
You led him into a book store excitedly, telling him about how the author he’d been binging had just published something new. He didn’t even know that.
You were browsing the sections, flipping through books as you went. You peered across the shop at a kid holding an absolutely massive pile of books, who was clearly struggling to keep them in his arms.
His mother tried to help him but he shook his head and strided away independently, albeit very slowly. The weight of the books though, did get the best of him, and you could tell by the quivering in his arms that he was going to drop them.
“Loud noise.” You said quickly, seemingly out of the blue. Jason turned to you, confused, before seeing the stack the books splat flat onto the ground. It was indeed a loud noise.
He tilts his head at you, though you’re still busy watching the little boy as he throws his head back in frustration.
“What was that?”
You look at him, “He dropped his books.”
“Yeah, I saw. But why—”
His question gets cut off by the kid bursting into tears, wailing. You turn back to look at him, your gaze getting caught by the new book you’d been telling him about. “Ooh!”
You grab his hand and pull him over with you, smiling widely when you have the book in your hands. The sight of you makes him feel so warm so fast that he forgets about the odd interaction all together.
A couple hours later, you sit outside a cafe and eat lunch together, his back to the road, you sitting diagnal to him.
He’s telling you about the shit Damian got in trouble for at school last week, holding your hand with his right hand and eating with his left.
“He thinks he’s not going to get expelled for pulling shit like that every other week, it’s ridiculous.” He says, tossing his napkin down on the table.
Your smile is wavers as your eyes move past his shoulder looking down the block before widening, “Car—”
The sudden noise startles him enough to make him visibly jump, hand flying to where his holster would be. He looks over at the fender bender, shoulders relaxing.
He turns back to you to find your eyes looking far more worried than they should. You seem to be scanning his face, looking for something and he’s about to ask you what’s wrong when it sinks in.
He does get scared by unexpected loud sounds, doesn’t he? He never really thinks of it until it happens, but his mind is trained to expect gunshots or crowbars making impact.
It doesn’t happen often, but it noticeably takes a little piece out of him when it does.
“You…” he tries, but falters. He’s not even sure he’s processing this right.
He’s never seriously tried to fathom that you love him half as much as he loves you, though love doesn’t feel like a strong enough word. He lives and breathes for you, you’ve become a lifeline he’d been stranded without for most of his life. But now you're here and you’re everything, you’re in his head all the time, in every emotion he feels.
He thinks he’s here for you, that he was brought back from the dead because of you. You can’t possibly understand how much his heart is full of you, he doesn’t understand it himself.
He knows you love him, he’s gotten that through his head. But he can’t get a grasp on the idea that he’s equally matched in the who loves who the most battle.
Do you really care that much about him to go out of your way to keep track of things that might startle him? He knows there’s a million things about you that are in the back of his mind at any given time, but surely you don’t operate that same way with him?
Do you?
There’s this burning in his heart that aches and it only gets stronger when he sees you looking at him like that. So genuine. With care, with love.
He squeezes your hand, “I love you. More than anything.”
The look on your face sinks back into that sweet, adorable look that he’s so used to and it makes him want to scream.
You smile that bright smile and it sends his heart rocketing into oblivion. “I love you.” You squeeze his hand back, “More than everything.”
He feels like his heart might burst through his chest.
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sukiipjs · 3 months
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❧ POSITIVE
°:. *₊ ° . ☆ °:. *₊ ° . ° .•
↳ chris sturniolo x fem reader
↳ words - 717
↳ summary - you find out your pregnant and freak out, chris assures that it’s all going to be okay.
↳ contains - fluff, swearing, crying/panic attack, pregnancy, pet names (baby), use of y/n, idkkk
↳ song - nothing matters but you by madison beer
°:. *₊ ° . ☆ °:. *₊ ° . ° .•
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°:. *₊ ° . ☆
i’m currently freaking out, waiting for the pregnancy test to reveal its results. i’m a week late and i’m always the one to jump to assumptions so here we are. me and chris have seen together for about a year, maybe some day we would have kids but not now, definitely not now.
i’m pacing in the bathroom the test on the counter next to my phone with a timer, almost over. “oh my god, oh my god, fuuuck,” i mutter to myself, overthinking about everything that would change, everything that could go wrong, only thinking of the bad.
my timer going off stops me in my tracks and i walk to the counter, turning off my phone and peering over to look at the test, it’s positive. my mouth opens slightly as i stare at the test on the verge of tears. i grab another from the box and using that one, before i know it my timer goes off, positive, again.
“oh my god,” i bury my eyes in my palms, tears dripping down my cheeks as i cry into my hands, “no no no...” i grab the tests and sink down onto the floor leaning on the side of the bathtub, hiding the tests on my stomach as i bring my knees to my chest, burying my head into my knees, crying and crying. i don’t know if i’m sad, happy, confused, scared, excited, or all…
i don’t hear but the front door opens and chris calls out, “baby i’m here!” i ignore, not even sure if i did hear him. i continue crying on the bathroom floor, freaking out. i assume he hears me crying out when he opens the bathroom door to find me, “baby?” i cry even more, baby? hearing it now is totally different.
he kneels down on the floor in front of me, grabbing my hands off my knees to hold them in his hands as i lift my head up, “what’s wrong? talk to me,” i try to open my mouth to speak, it’s too hard. i cant. what if he leaves me? i don’t want to think of this right now.
“it’s okay.. it’s all okay, just what’s wrong?” he brings his arms around me, giving me a hug then going back to holding my hands. i can’t speak, all noise from me stops and i just sob. one of his hands reach to my face, wiping off some of my tears. i reach one of my hands to grab the tests that are on my lap, holding them tight until i drop them on the floor beside us. chris turns his head to see them on the floor, he picks up both, taking a moment to look and process what they are, “oh my god.”
he drops them back on the floor and i bury my head into my hands again, trying to hide myself from him. he reaches for a tissue box and setting it next to me, i left my head up again, my heart skipping beats, my breath hiccuping, tears running down my face. “y/n… it’s okay, breathe okay?” he smiles softly, his hand guiding mine to my chest, “focus on your breaths, you’re okay,” i start to take deep breaths until i catch my breath, grabbing a tissue and wiping off my tears.
“chris..” i say softly, my eyes puffy and nose red. “how.. how do you feel about this?” he smiles a little more, rubbing his thumb on the hand he holds, “you know i love kids,”
“yeah but we never thought about this now? your career and everything, this wasn’t supposed to happen now,” i sigh, i feel like my tears are coming back. he chuckles a little, “but it did happened now, we’re going to get through this okay? this is amazing, we’re going to have a baby,” he smiles even more, pulling me in for a kiss. now i start smiling too.
“i love you chris,” he kisses my forehead, “i love you too, and i promise, it’s all okay, yeah?” i nod, both of us smiling, and now i think of the good things. we’re going to be parents, us together, raising a child. there’s no one else i would rather to that with than him.
☆ °:. *₊ ° . °
taglist : @slutforchriss @mattsleftnipple03 @mattsdinosweater @ccolleenn @mixvchelle @leah-loves-lilies @sturn-wrld
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quinnsadilla · 4 months
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fluff alphabet |clarisse la rue
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author's note: Hi lovelies, please send me requests! I don't know what gave me the confidence to think I can write, probably delusion. Also, this is according to my personal views of Clarisse so don't be mad if it's different from what you've imagined. Leave a comment, I love interacting with people, xx.
warnings: I tried my best to keep it gender/race/cabin neutral for the most part but there are still some feminine coded things here and there. English is not my first language so excuse any grammar mistakes.
A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?
Starting off strong because with Clarisse sparring is a must. Although she doesn't like to think there will ever come a time in which she won't be there to protect you, it's still an essential part of life as a half-blood. And who better to train you than the daughter of war herself? And in case the apprentice becomes the master and you happen to beat her or pin her to the ground or even hold your dagger to her neck? Oh boy, she's done for. Actual heart eyes.
B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?
She pretty much loves everything about you, she can't really just choose one aspect. Though, if she had to, she'd probably say she loves you for being supportive, understanding, and patient with her. You understand her better than anyone. That's what made her know you were the one for her. You can control her anger issues and calm her down when she's on the verge of exploding and she thinks that's beautiful.
C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc?
The art of intimacy or comfort never came easy to Clarisse. Her relationship with her mother isn't the best and hasn't been for a while now and her father is a grade A asshole. Her first instinct when you're feeling down is to fix it, to ask you who or what happened and give them a physical piece of her mind, but that's not always how it works. She'll pull you to her lap and hold you through the night or for as long as you need, wiping your tears and kissing your cheeks. She'll let you vent your heart out. You can tell her anything. Or nothing, if you prefer. She's not the best with words but her actions speak much louder.
D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?
She's never thought that much ahead if she's being honest. Never allowed herself to daydream too much into the future, choosing to live off the present for now. Sometimes, however, she pictures what could be only described as an utopia; to go on such a fantastical quest that the gods can't help but grant the both of you immortality, that way you'd bask in the glory of your love forever and ever.
E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?
On the outside looking in it would seem Clarisse is the dominant one for sure. And in some ways she is; she likes that you can rely on her, she wants to provide for you, yearns to prove herself capable of such. Still, you're the one in charge. Clarisse is completely devoted to you, and your relationship means more to her than anything she's ever felt before. She cherishes it like no other, always at your beck and call.
F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?
Clarisse is intense, that much we know. Her anger runs deep and her passion burns red. She's not perfect, and doesn't try to hide it either. She's hot-tempered, arrogant, she's got a short fuse and she holds grudges. Her fatal flaw is pride, which sometimes gets in the way of her good senses, so you'll most likely be the one apologizing first. Despite all that, she can't bear the thought of you being mad at her and absolutely hates fighting with you. It's like it's tearing her apart, especially if you're sad over something she said or did in the heat of the moment. Truth is, she is a fighter at heart so when all is said and done she'll try and make it up to you in some way, somehow.
G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?
She is so appreciative of everything you do and are. As previously stated, Clarisse didn't get much love growing up so any semblance of that is something she clings hard to. She notices everything, every little thing you do for her and the underlying of your words. How you treat her and others is always stored in the back of her mind and she loves to be loved by you.
H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?
Clarisse is a very closed off person in general, she doesn't like feeling exposed and being possibly seen as weak. She'll tell you things but there's still some matters you have to pick up on your own and know how to approach them, especially regarding her feelings and personal struggles. She's very honest though, she feels like she owns you that much and appreciates you if you do the same for her. The more your relationship progresses you'll notice being able to read her like an open book because although she does her very best to hide it there's an underlying vulnerability to her behavior in certain moments you'll take proper notice of the more you know her.
I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?
Clarisse has definitely become more gentle since you. It still doesn't extend to your friends and family but more so how she behaves around you and knowing she doesn't have to put up that though front all the time. Her sense of self worth has improved as well, especially when you reassure her through her insecurities and doubts (never being the son her father wanted etc.)
J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?
Oh, boy. Clarisse’s jealousy is very fuelled by… Well, anything really. She doesn't necessarily need a motive to go toe to toe with someone, just staring at you for a second longer than she deems them worthy of and she's ready for a fight. It's hard for anyone to get close enough to flirt with you because she's always there, by your side, kind of like a guard dog. But only because she knows how amazing you are and her insecurities do blurry some lines on what's acceptable. She's working on it though.
K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?
Clarisse is definitely a good kisser. She doesn't have much experience, if any, but she's a natural. It sounds cheesy but the first time she kisses you was like butterflies and church bells dancing loudly in the wind. The way she cups your face so uncharacteristically soft and how she breaks off the kiss with a series of small pecks only to smile one of her beautiful smiles so close to each other's faces… Magical. It could be at the fireworks on the fourth of July or it could be in your favorite spot in the woods, soaked in lake water during a midnight swim or after a heated argument. No matter how many times Clarisse kisses you, she'll never not feel electricity similar to her spear’s sharp edge digging into her body and soul.
L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?
Clarisse does not have a clue what she's doing. I feel like she'd say something in the heat of the moment; either confessing her true feelings or masking them by saying something hurtful she doesn't actually mean. In the latter scenario she'd storm off and berate herself over it but her pride and fear that you'd never look at her again made her put off her apology for some time and let it all sink in to talk to you when she's ready. That is until you start properly ignoring her and she nearly goes crazy with longing, just missing your overall presence and having her stomach turn to knots at the way things were left between you two. That's one of the few times Clarisse sucks it up and reaches for you. The apology is awkward but overwhelmingly honest and she tells you she's an idiot but you're content in forgiving her and giving her a second (actual first) chance.
M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?
Again, Clarisse never thought she'd live to see the day she'd actually have a marriage prospect. Her life just doesn't seem complete without you anymore and the moment she realizes that she's done for. It would probably be while you're laying in bed together, your head on her chest while you play with her fingers. Your eyes are heavy with sleep but hers are wide open, thinking. “Will you marry me?” said while staring into the distance and you probably think she's joking except Clarisse is not one to joke about that sort of thing. “Not now. But eventually.” and whether you ask if she's serious or just accept it right away, she'd look at you seriously for a beat and then tackle you into a bear hug, crushing you underneath her. She doesn't see the point in a big wedding, but if that's what you're into, she won't mind.
N icknames - What do they call their s/o?
She is not immune to babe or baby but would still like to keep some variety. Things like sunshine, gorgeous, angel or others (I'm looking at you, person who created the “mama/s” HC). She does like your name very much, or probably a shortened version of it. Don't expect her to not tease you if any of these make you flustered.
O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?
Clarisse likes to think she's good at hiding it when she's absolutely not. As Taylor Swift once said, you can hear it in the silence. Just the way her eyes soften when she's looking at you speaks millions, but people also get whiplash at how fast her mean attitude changes whenever you're around. Her love giving languages are probably acts of service and physical touch. She loves to do things for you, feeling all big and mighty whenever she can make your life just a little easier. Touching is also a must but we'll get to that in a second.
P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?
Clarisse is not very comfortable with public displays of affection, because she is afraid of being judged or mocked by others for being weak or soft. She prefers to keep her relationship with you private and intimate, but doesn't mind the little things. She does gloat about being with you as well as showing you off, so that everyone on camp knows you're hers. She brags about you all the time and I mean, seriously, all the time. She's not a big hand holder but she almost over compensates by grabbing at your hips and thighs, throwing an arm over your shoulder or hiding her face in your neck. She especially loves bonfires when you sit on her lap and she can hold firmly onto your waist while she's talking to her siblings or just press her forehead against yours when her social battery is low.
Q uirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.
She's very perceptive. She may not know what has changed right away but she's also persistent so she'll figure it out in an instant. If it's the way you did your hair or something that happened along your day, even if you change your usual greeting. She notices and she'll definitely ask you about it.
R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?
Clarisse wants to be loved, that's all she’s ever wanted, and she has so much love to give, therefore I believe she'll do just about anything to make you happy. That includes being an absolute sap. She honestly doesn't mind how cliche it is, if it works on you, you bet she's using it. If anyone cares to say anything remotely negative about you or your relationship she will promptly glare them into oblivion or give them something to really worry about.
S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?
She is your absolute biggest supporter. Especially if you don't believe in yourself, then she's trying even harder for you to see just how well you can do something if you put your mind to it. With something like sword training she is more than willing to help you, rewarding you with kisses and cursing you for distracting her with your pretty face.
T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?
Clarisse doesn't mind change, she rolls with it. If you have a certain way of doing things, a routine you like to follow, that's fine by her. If you're unpredictable, even better. She just loves to see what comes next in terms of your relationship, not necessarily needing anything to amplify her love for you. It's already hardwired into her.
U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?
She knows you like the back of her hand. Even the slightest furrow of your eyebrows or tilt of your head and she'll be there in a second asking what's wrong. She does learn to be more empathetic towards your own struggles, which was hard at first because she wasn't sure how to see things from someone else's point of view. Though road but you make it work.
V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?
She doesn't have much to look forward to so Clarisse values her relationship with you very highly, as you are one of the few people who can see past her tough and aggressive exterior and appreciate her softer and more vulnerable side. She is fiercely loyal and protective of you, and would do anything to keep you safe and happy.
W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.
I actually read this one on a Wattpad story a while ago so credit to the original creator but, Clarisse has a teddy bear named Mr. Muscles she's had since she was like, nine and she cherishes it like it's her most prized possession. When she introduced this piece of information to you, you just found her so incredibly adorable you couldn't contain the giggles and she gets so hot in the face she pushes you off her bed and it's honestly one of the most memorable moments in your relationship.
X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?
I headcanon Clarisse as your personal furnace as well as a koala bear so kisses and cuddles are a must, especially if it's cold outside. She loves to take naps with you, it gets to the point where she has trouble sleeping without you (so you give her a vial of your perfume to spray on Mr. Muscles for when you're away).
Y earning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?
Clarisse with you: 🥰
Clarisse without you: 😡
She gets snappier than usual and easily annoyed but she'll also get really sad because she's never had to deal with being away from you. Her siblings try to cheer her up by shoving some kid's head into the toilet but she's so disinterested in anything that does not involve you she just goes about her days training until she can see you again and show off her muscles.
Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lenghts for the relationship? If so, what kind of?
The answer is yes, one hundred percent. “Touch her and you die” trope goes so hard. Not only that but she would willingly sacrifice the world and herself for you and your relationship. She would go out of her way to make sure you are okay, that you are fed and hydrated and well rested, even messing up her own sleeping schedule in order to take better care of you.
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fangirl-writes · 6 months
Text
Small Spaces
JJ Maybank x Reader; John B. Routledge x Routledge!Reader
Warning(s): claustrophobia, anxiety attack, swearing
Request: jj maybank dating jb’s twin sister and her joining in on their adventures but she has severe anxiety so just him being super sweet and loving to her?
Notes: This is totally based on another fic I read that I can't find rn but it's my spin on it so I hope you like.
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Fuck this, you thought. Seriously, fuck this.
You were squeezing yourself through a small hole in a mausoleum that had "Redfield" written across the top, just to see what was inside.
For John B., of course, because he was your brother, and he needed to find this clue almost as much as he needed to be breathing.
But god damn it, this was all you needed.
Between the near visit from child services, the hurricane, the dead guy's boat, the guy's gun, getting shot at, and surely more to come, you were due for a panic attack.
Your feet hit the ground with a loud smack and you winced at the noise.
"Still alive?" John B. asked.
"Oh my god, shut up,"
"Yep, she's alive."
You rolled your eyes and took the flashlight that Kie was offering you.
You shined the light around the space, bigger than you were expecting, but the fact that your exit was so small and that it would be a struggle getting back to it was making the anxiety stir in your stomach.
"Y/N? You okay?" JJ asked.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," you replied. "What exactly am I looking for?"
"You'll know it when you see it."
"Real helpful, JB," you mumbled, shining the flashlight around and trying to focus on finding whatever it was rather than the darkness and the walls that felt like they were going to close in on you.
You gasp when a flash of white catches your eye.
"Y/N? You okay?" JJ asked
"Oh my god," you whispered.
"Y/N?" JJ asked again. "I'm gonna need some word confirmation that you're okay."
"Yeah, I-I'm fine," you replied. "I think I found it."
"What? Really?" John B. said, peaking into the space you'd crawled into.
You pulled out a long white envelope from a small space in the crypt, the words "FedEx" and "Bird" written on it.
Thanks for including me, Dad, you thought before taking the envelope over to the space and handing it to John B.'s outstretched hand.
"That's not gold," Pope said, a little disappointed.
But John B. was looking at it like it was. "Holy shit."
"JJ, a little help?" you said, reaching a hand through the space.
"Yeah, yeah, I gotchu, babe," he replied, helping you out of the crypt.
"This is from our dad," John B. said, looking around at the group.
"Yeah," you said, trying to catch your breath. "To you."
"Code red. Code red." JJ warned, the smoke from his joint fluttering up into the air. "Square groupers! Square groupers!"
Your stomach drops as the five of you start moving, JJ's hands grabbing your arms rougher than he probably meant to.
"It's the guys who robbed your house," JJ said.
Fuck, you think. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
You guys hide on the side of the mausoleum, turning off and tucking the lights under your shirts.
You can feel it start to bubble up, your breathing becoming unsteady.
"Hey, I see something!"
"Do you think it's them?" Kiara asked.
"Homie's got a gun," JJ said as he and John B. peaked around the corner.
"Screw this," Kie said, taking off. The others followed her, including you, who was on the verge of breaking down.
"Right here!" One of the men shouted.
JJ's hand was on your back the whole time, but it did nothing to calm you down.
You each scaled the fence with little trouble except for Pope, who got his pants stuck on the gate.
It was funny until you were in the van and that anxiety attack had caught up with you, the adrenaline fix going away.
Your hands shook. Your chest tightened. Tears began streaming down your cheeks.
You were starting to hyperventilate, and your head was spinning. Even though you knew you were safe in the Twinkie now, you couldn't help the dread that was washing over you, the fear for your life that coiled around you like a snake.
"Hey, hey, hey, Y/N," JJ said, quickly catching on to what was happening. "You're okay, you're okay."
He made you look at him and took a few deep breaths for you to copy, which you did over and over.
"Shit, get this joint out of here," JJ said, handing it off to Pope.
"What am I supposed to do with it?" he asked.
"Throw it out the window or something, get it outta here. It only makes her worse."
You'd tried that anecdote before, and, as he said, it really did only make the panic attack worse. Through trial and error, JJ and John B. found the only things that helped you through a panic attack were calming words, help getting your breathing back to normal, and hugs.
So, JJ did just that. He held you close and whispered in your ear, rocking you back and forth slowly.
John B. checked your state in the rearview, feeling bad that he'd brought you along at all, even if you had insisted. Then he looked at the envelope sitting next to him and knew that, somehow, it would be worth it.
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horanghaeluvsinniehae · 3 months
Text
STRAY KIDS!BF COMFORTING YOU WHEN YOU’RE UPSET
||ateez version||
Pairing: skz!bf x gn!reader
Disclaimer: mentions of food, panic attack, curse words, negative feelings in general and reader is quite sad (tell me if i missed anything)
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A/n: hi guys…i know it’s messy and sad im sorry:( i wrote it in the verge of tears bc i wanted some comfort, but i hope it’s enjoyable:( thank you for reading!! If you want to request then please do so because i need ideas!!
Here’s my masterlist for better works
Please take care of yourself and be safe!🫂❤️‍🩹
Taglist: @justwonder113 @ihrtlix (if you want to be added please comment or write into asks!)
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schemmentigfs · 4 months
Text
Future Milf, part two.
part one!
paring: melissa schemmenti x reader.
summary: after the incident in the teacher's lounge, you start to avoid melissa who is willing to know what happened and trying to get things back to normal.
warnings: just a little angst but trust me, we have a happy ending!
author notes: This is a little rushed, but I hope you all enjoy this second part 🤍 I also wanted to thank the beautiful people who are sending requests for Mel, they are amazing and i'm already working on them! And don't worry, feel free to send any idea that comes to mind. It will be an honor for me to turn them into reality.
tags: @esposadejoyhuerta @gweninred @moistblobfish
English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes!
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The truth was that Melissa was completely disoriented, her brain trying to process what had happened in the last seven minutes. You acting like that and apologizing, leaving the room as quickly as possible made her worried as hell.
All she wanted was to comfort you and know what was really happening. There were a lot of doubts in her mind, to be honest. Had she done something? Or said something? The way you couldn't look into her green eyes was so strange..
Everything between you two was great until today, and then it all suddenly fell apart at lunchtime? That made her feel a little paranoid.
“Melissa, are you well? Are you hurt?” Barb asks.
“I don't know,” she said, staring into nothing, worrying her friends, “I just need to check on her.” The redhead gets up and runs to start looking for you.
“MELISSA! WAIT!” the entire Abbott crew screams, but she completely ignores it.
She stops in front of your classroom and notices that the door is locked. The lights are off, but Melissa knows you're in there.
“Sweetheart, please let me in,” she knocks gently, “I am not mad with ya. Don't worry about it, I just want to know how you are.” The older woman adds, almost begging for you to open the door.
Locked inside your classroom, you were sitting on the floor. Curled up hugging your knees, trying to find some comfort while crying. The whole situation was so fucking stupid, of course. But it still left you overwhelmed and on the verge of an anxiety attack.
So lending Melissa the future milf t-shirt made you completely lose your mind? Wow, you really were a stupid person. Stupid. That word stuck in your brain and made you cry even more.
Hearing your quiet sobs made the redhead's heart break into pieces. The thought of her doing something that made you hurt was utterly painful. The truth was that Melissa would blame herself for the rest of her life if she had made you feel bad in any way.
“Hon, c'mon. Let me—” she started.
“Don't. Melissa, please. Just go away, I need to be alone,” you interrupt her, hoping she would understand that you didn't have the strength to say anything else.
Before walking away, she whispers loud enough for you to hear. “If you need anything, you know where to find me. But please, promise me you'll be okay.” The redhead said trying to wipe away the small tears that threatened to fall from her face.
“I'll be fine. Now go.” You growl, unaware that your words have fully gotten to her.
It had been a while since Melissa changed her mood so quickly. She had learned to control her emotions, thanks to you, who helped her notice that it was okay to show them from time to time and it wasn't shameful at all. But at that moment everything seemed useless.
Her legs were shaking slightly and she kept tapping her fingers on the desk, while trying to focus on correcting some of the children's homeworks. It was clear that Melissa was almost having a huge panic attack.
Ashely, who was now scrolling through her cell phone boredly after making sure the students were doing their activities calmly and in silence, noticed the sudden change in the redhead and her eyebrows raised in confusion.
“What’s the matter, boss? You seem a little quiet since lunch time. Which is strange ‘cause earlier you were all excited and—”
The older woman rolls her eyes. “Nothing happened. I'm fine,” she responds, clenching her teeth, “everything is ok, kid.”
“Are you sure? I know we’re not that close, but if you need to vent, I’m all ears.” The girl shrugs.
Melissa's eyes widen, her aide was really willing to give her some advice? Normally, Ashley didn't tend to be very serious. When she tried to help, the girl always ended up saying things that were a bit nonsense. But this time, she was here ready to be a shoulder to lean on.
“Y/n..” she started but quickly corrected herself, not quite ready to confide the crush she had on you to anyone else than Barbara. “Today, a strange thing happened between me and a friend that honestly left me completely confused.”
“Oh. Do you have any idea what might have happened?”
Melissa stops for a moment, trying to get her head to work and think of a reason that could explain what had happened between the two of you.
“I-I can't explain it properly...everything was normal between us and when lunch time came...” the teacher stuttered, “she could barely look at me and when I told her to act like a real adult and tell me what was happening, she panicked and ran away.”
“After that you were able to talk to her?”
“Kinda, but she told me to leave her alone.”
Ashley gives her a pitying look, she knew who Melissa was referring to. Anyone who works at Abbott would know. “I'm sorry this happened boss, but I'm sure things will get better between you and her. Just give her a little time.”
Melissa nodded and smiled. “Thanks for the advice, hon.”
“Anytime boss, anytime.”
Changing my life with the wave of her hand.
Nobody can deny that there's something there.
There.
Running my hands through her hair.
Both of us thinking how good it can be.
Someone is speaking, but she doesn't know he's there.
The melody of Here, There And Everywhere by The Beatles echoed throughout the kitchen directly from the small radio on the balcony, while Melissa prepared dinner.
This was one of the many songs she always wanted to dedicate to you, the redhead dreamed of dancing with her arms around you, after a busy day at school while this song played. Just the two of you, enjoying each other's company.
Was it quite cliché? Of course it was, even for the one and only Melissa Schemmenti. But to be honest, she didn't care how it sounded.
The older woman was so in love with you that she thought of endless romantic scenarios every day. After what happened today, every one of them seemed distant. But she still had a simple hope within her.
“Watching her eyes, and hoping I'm always there,” she sings passionately, while cutting the tomatoes perfectly, “I want her everywhere, and if she is beside me. I know I need never care, but to love her is to need her everywhere.” Melissa closes her eyes for a moment, thinking about you.
On the way out, she looked for you in the Abbott parking lot but was unsuccessful, she was waiting for a message from you, saying that you had arrived home safely like you always did.
But you didn't send her anything.
A feeling ran through her body. It was as if the redhead was losing the most precious thing in her life. Desperate, Melissa picked up her cellphone that was leaning on the living room table and went to check on you. Screw the advice Ashely gave earlier, she couldn't wait anymore.
Hon, are you feeling better? I hope so. By the way, did you manage to get home safely?
Sorry if I sound desperate, but I need to know if things are ok.
Y/n? Please answer me.
Her heart breaks into pieces when she sees that you just viewed the message and didn't even make the effort to reply back. For fuck’s sake, what had she done that was so serious? Nothing made sense anymore.
Just a few blocks away, you were lying on the couch and drinking an entire bottle of vodka, pretending like you didn't care about not responding to Melissa's messages. It was immature, but it seemed to make sense to you. Since this whole milf situation was a complete disaster, ignoring her seemed right.
Of course, inside you felt like a monster, knowing that the redhead didn't deserve this. But what you could do?
“I’m ready to open another bottle and listen to a two-hour-plus loop of Chamber of Reflection,” you say, making Ava sigh.
The principal had stopped by your house hours ago to check on you and when she saw the miserable state you were in, she decided to stay there for a while. And tried to comfort you (in the most Ava Coleman way possible.)
“Y/N. Come on, you can't act like Schemmenti doesn't exist. If you keep doing that, she'll soon break into your place to find out what's going on,” she comments, “just like an episode of a soap opera where the greatest absurdities happen in an exactly dramatic way.” Ava finished her sentence while painting her nails a shade of red. The act catching your attention.
Red. It reminded you of Melissa.
Yeah, this was being harder than it seemed.
“Shut up, she won't come after me,” you said it like it was just another one of the stupid things Ava used to say.
“Yes, she will. And y’know that very well.”
The next day, Melissa sat with her arms crossed at the table she shared with Barb and you. The redhead stared at the small tupperware in front of her, last night she made what she knew was your favorite dish: pancakes. She was anxiously waiting for you to show up in the break room, but that didn't happen.
Keep calm, Schemmenti. She will appear soon. She won't ignore you.
“Dear..” the kindergarten teacher whispers and she snorts, trying to change the subject, disguising how tense she was.
“What’s so interesting out there?” Melissa asks as she notices Janine, Gregory and Jacob looking at each other with strange expressions after spying in the window.
“Nothing.” Jacob is the first to respond and the couple agrees with him, swearing that there was nothing interesting outside.
She laughs humorlessly, the history teacher simply didn't know how to lie.
“C'mon, kiddo. You guys look like you've seen a ghost.” The redhead gets up from the table and approaches the three, squinting to see anything out of the ordinary and when she does. Her breathing hitches.
On the sidewalk, there were you and another teacher, who she recognized as the art teacher. The woman was happily chatting with you and leaning too close to Melissa's chagrin.
Ms. Evans was know for her big crush on you, she was always fighting with the redhead to have your attention. And now that Melissa was being ignored by you, this bitch thought she could have you all to herself? No way.
“YOU GOTTA BE FUCKING KIDDING ME!” she yelled coming down to get some satisfaction from you.
The sound of angry footsteps caught your attention, it was clearly that they belong to who you had been avoiding since yesterday, Melissa.
The wish was for the redhead to pass straight by without noticing your presence there. But instead, she approached and with a certain force grabbed you by the arm, taking you to one of the far corners of the building.
“Melissa! What the fuck?” you said.
“So while I was worried to death there in the staff room because you didn't talked to me since yesterday, you were here talking normally to that idiot!” the older woman's tone was altered, you could clearly hear the jealousy in her voice, “Had fun with your new best friend?”
“She’s not my best friend. We were just talking,” the nonsensical accusation makes you roll your eyes, letting out a mocking chuckle. “Melissa, stop acting like that!” you shout and she loses her temper even more.
“You suddenly act like a bitch and I’m the one to blame? What the fuck is wrong with you, Y/n?” she growls, fire in her green eyes.
“I dunno, a lot of things I suppose,” you retort coldly.
Melissa sighs when she realizes how tough she was. “Look, I don’t want to be an idiot. But please tell me what I did, so I can fix it.”
“We have nothing to fix between us, Schemmenti.”
“What? Are you really going to ignore it and pretend like none of this is happening?” The redhead asked in disbelief.
“Trust me. It’s better this way, for both of us,” you mumble, walking away from her, leaving an upset Melissa behind.
After the ‘argument’ on Tuesday, Melissa and you barely crossed paths at Abbott. And when you bumped into each other in the hallway, both grumbled and went back to your own ways.
The redhead and you were fighting the need to put the damned pride aside and throw yourselfs into each other's arms, and finally apologizing. But you were too stubborn for that and it was fucking complicated.
“This is stupid! Can you believe that Y/n started going to that coffee shop that's just a few blocks away from here just so she wouldn't have to face me at lunch? This whole thing is starting to irritate me.” Melissa tells to her best friend one morning.
“I understand that this situation is complicated, but don’t you think that both of you are exaggerating?” Barb asked carefully. Even she couldn't handle this situation anymore, it was disappointing to have to see you and Melissa acting like two children.
Ava who was listening to the conversation cautiously, decided to interrupt. “Schemmenti, haven’t you put the pieces together yet? Unbelievable.” She said as if it was something of small importance, making the redhead's eyebrows raise in confusion.
“Huh?”
“It’s so simple, I thought you already figured it all out,” the principal continues in a mysterious tone, making Melissa's head spin, “If it weren’t for this bullshit, you and Y/n would already be like two rabbits jumping on top of each other, if you know what I mean.”
The last comment makes Barb choke on her tea. “Ava, could you not be so specific about this? We’re in a school!” she scolds her.
“Whatever! It’s past time for her to know that Y/n likes her too. Even Janine and Gregory acted better than that!”
Everything around Melissa seemed to have gone silent. So was it true, the feelings were also reciprocal. A lot of questions surrounded her mind, why didn't you say anything? Why did you decide to pretend you weren't in love with her? Were you afraid of not being reciprocated?
“Why is she avoiding me then?” the redhead asks out loud, “that’s making me lose my mind. I just miss her.”
“Because of the t-shirt she lend ya. Mainly ‘cause of the last word printed on it.” That's all Ava says at that moment.
“A milf?” Melissa questions, still confused trying to think of putting the pieces together. “What does that mean? Is it something bad?”
“I was going to suggest you to google the meaning, but since you look like you're about to have a heart attack, I will tell ya,” she laughs and the redhead rolls her eyes, showing Ava her middle finger, “but don't be scared, it's a good thing, actually.”
“Alright..” the green-eyed woman whispers, still afraid of the answer, “so what does this whole milf thing means?”
“Mother I'd Like To Fuck. It also means that an older woman is super attractive.”
Melissa was left open-mouthed, her eyes blinking trying to process the explanation. So that was the damn meaning, well, she had to admit that was hot. “Wait... so Y/n..” she starts but there is a pause.
“Is in love with you and was scared when she saw ya wearing that t-shirt looking extremely hot, and preferred to stay away in case you found out what she felt.” Ava reveals it like it's the most obvious thing in the world, “What are you waiting for? Go find your girl, Schemmenti.”
Time passed slowly to Melissa's disgust and despair, making the poor woman sigh feeling defeated. As each second passed, she glanced quickly at the clock on her classroom wall, waiting for the afternoon to end.
After her students left, and the school day was finally over. She drove to your house — without caring about traffic regulations and rules — nothing else really mattered, she just needed to see you.
Sitting on the floor, while assembling a Lego set that simulated a beautiful bouquet of flowers — a gift you received from Janine and Gregory days ago, a lovely attempt by the couple to cheer you up — the sound of the doorbell ringing caught your attention. Making you stop your movements.
You furrowed your eyebrow in confusion, who could it be? Most of your friends were at different appointments at that time. So it certainly wasn't one of them.
“I'm almost coming! I just hope you’re not a stupid lunatic or some other ,” you grumbled, standing up as the sounds of the doorbell seemed more desperate with each passing second.
You opened the door and found Melissa standing there with her arms crossed, shivering slightly from the storm. “Hon, it’s so good to see you again.” She murmurs with a weak smile. Without caring if her voice sounds too desperate.
“Mel, what are you doing here? You might catch a damn cold like that.” You scolded her, pulling her into the house and locking the door again.
“I don’t care about that, I needed to see you. Actually we have to talk.” She responds taking off the black leather jacket that covered her body and hanging it where you kept your coats.
“We have to?” There is a little hesitation in the tone of your voice, all that courage and confidence have disappeared from your body. Insecurity taking over.
“Yeah, hon. We do.” She replied, noticing your nervousness, Melissa tries to comfort you, placing her hand on your shoulder and stroking it lovingly, showing that everything was fine. You smile for the first time in days in the presence of your beloved redhead.
She takes you to the small white sofa that was in the middle of the living room. “I know you were avoiding me because of that shirt. And I know you're in love with me.”
“What? Fuck, how did you figure all this out?” you whisper in panic, covering your face with your hands. Feeling vulnerable at the mercy of the red-haired figure sitting next to you.
A silence fell in the room, making you feel even more embarrassed.
“Ava told me those things earlier today. Hon, why didn't you tell me anything? That would have made everything so much easier.”
“What do you mean by making things easier? I don't understand.”
“I'm love with you too, idiot. I just didn't say before ‘cause I was insecure as fuck. But now, I know exactly what I want: you. No one else, just you.” She confessed with a smile on her face.
Automatically your body falls even more on the couch and you feel slightly dizzy. Closing your eyes slowly, trying to regain consciousness. “Sorry, I'm a bit nervous,” you respond. “It's too much to process. Jesus Christ.”
“Don’t be nervous, it’s me. Just me,” Melissa pulls you into her lap sighing as she smells your lavender scent again. “I'm sorry if I acted like a bitch the last few days. It was not necessary.”
“It was never your fault, I was the real bitch. You didn’t deserve to go through this just because of an irresponsible attitude of mine,” you say, resting your foreheads together.
“I think it's fair to say that we overreacted a bit,” the older woman smiles with her eyes closed. Feeling a slight courage run through her body, she asks you something. “Sweetheart?”
“Yeah?”
“Can I kiss you?” Melissa asks biting her lip and slowly approaching, “I wanna do this since New Year's Eve.”
“Yes, please, Mel.” You beg wrapping your arms around her neck.
The moment her lips touched yours, it felt like you were in heaven. Melissa's lips were soft against yours. The kiss was calm and peaceful, both wanting to show all the love you felt for each other.
“You know, being considered a milf is an honor for me.” Melissa scoffs with a mischievous smile as you pull away from the kiss.
“Shut up.” You chuckle, cupping her cheeks.
“Make me,” the redhead teases, “please.”
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adventuringblind · 3 months
Text
Safety In Your Arms
Dando x Reader
Genre: Hurt-comfort, maybe spicy via implied smut
Summary: Sometimes things go horribly wrong, nothing like what you expected, and it sends you hurtling towards emotions you never asked for. Lando and Daniel hate to see her this way.
Warnings: implied sexual content prior to and post incident, r@pe, anxiety, panic attacks, worried partners
Notes: Not sure this is exactly what you wanted because I don't write r@pe fantasies... regardless I hope the requester likes it :)
Side Note: Please leave notes! I think I might have been shadow banned recently as my fics are not being interacted with as much as they used to. Maybe it's just me being self-conscious because I know I couldn't care but I do.
Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi
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Her heart thumping in her ears is all she can hear. Just last night, this had been something special and intimate. It was beautiful and loving. Now a stranger thinks he take something that isn't his.
Daniel and Lando are the only ones aloud to touch her like this. Their touch sends shivers down her spine in a pleasant way. This man makes her burn. His grip keeping her pinned to the wall feels like lighter being held against the bare flesh of her hips.
She was almost to the room. Back to the safety of her boys. Just up the stairs and down the hall. Curse the elevator for not working.
She's not sure where the adrenaline comes from. Her fight or flight response is pulling from some unknown energy reserve. It's enough for her to push him off her.
He falls backwards down the stairs. He's disoriented but still conscious. He looks like he might fight his way back to her and finish what he started.
She bolts. Her legs carry her to the door of her shared room. Fists bang on the door in terror.
The door to the stairwell slams open. She leans her weight into the door and slides down. Tears stream down her face at the hopelessness she feels in this situation.
The door flings open. Daniel on the other side catches her crumbling body before it hits the ground. She pushes inside and finds the farthest corner of the room.
She sees the silhouette of the man come to face Daniel. Lando is crouched down in front of her, trying to coax some kind of explanation out of her. She's too worked up to respond.
The loud crack of Daniel's knuckles fills her ears. Her attacker stumbles backwards once more, this time he's out cold. His body falls to the ground, with a soft thud muffled only by the carpeted floors.
Lando exchanges a few words with Daniel. The ringing in her ears makes it hard to understand. It's not until Lando hands her his sweatshirt to hold and Daniel is on the phone that she registers the safety.
"He - He - I was -" She can't even get the words out. Not without realizing how pathetic she sounds.
"Okay, breathe now love, you're safe." She takes a few breathes with Lando. "Can we try some yes or no questions?"
She hesitantly shakes her head yes. Slowly, she reaches to Lando. He intertwines his fingers with hers and both of them relax.
"Did her hit you at all?"
Yes. When he first got her against the wall.
"Did he touch you anywhere intimate?" Lando looks like he's trying not to cringe.
Yes. Everywhere. It burns still.
Lando look on the verge of tears. He's always been empathetic, hurting with them. "Did he - did he rape you?"
She breaks. Burries her face in Lando's sweatshirt and wails. Lando is careful not to touch her in any harsh way; lets her lead him.
Daniel clambers onto the floor with them. She doesn't look at him, but she knows he's there and that's enough. "Love, I'm so sorry this happened to you. The authorities are on their way to take, whoever that was, away. The question now is how you want to go forward." Daniel takes a heavy breath before continuing when she doesn't respond. "We have to go to the hospital, love. I don't want you to suffer any more than you already have."
She's still crying as they bundle her up in Lando's sweatshirt and Daniel's sweats. The soft baggy ones she steals from him all the time regardless.
"Dan, what about... him?" Lando stares at the man lying on the floor. She has to will herself not to vomit at the sight of him.
"I'll meet you there, okay? The police should be here soon." Lando looks hesitant to leave without Daniel. The Aussie plants a reassuring kiss to his forehead. "Take care of our girl, yeah?"
By the time they get checked in, Daniel texts that he's on his way. She hasn't said anything else since the hotel room, but Lando kindly offers her one of his airpods. The music helps, if only a little.
The nurse takes her back to the room alone. She wails the entire time until they let Lando, now with Daniel on his heels, back with her.
She dissociates through the entire visit. Not coherent enough to answer anything but yes or no questions.
The next few days are more of them same. Only getting out of bed to sit in the shower. The water hot enough to burn away her skin.
Daniel tells Max they had an emergency but doesn't go into any details. Max lets them fly out with him. She doesn't talk to him. Too tired to use any energy on conversation.
Daniel and Lando respect her space. They ask before touching her. They announce their presences, especially if they are behind her.
The bruises fade eventually. It's not like the physical evidence was going to remain on her forever. Still, with his handprints gone for her sight, they burn her every time the area is touched.
She doesn't wear anything aside from Lando and Daniel's clothes that are too big on her. Not until they are back in Monaco for the summer break. Four months after the incident.
Daniel gently coaxes her out of the warm clothing. The boys give her space until she's ready to join them and respect her boundaries when she asks not to be touched.
Her skin still burns.
By the end of summer break, she's had time to work her way up to new things. Small bits of skin-on-skin contact and hugs are quickly becoming her new lifeline. She missed being able to not fear the touch of another. Her mind tends to forget she's safe and fights anyone who tries to get to close.
By September she's able to sleep in the same bed as them without waking up panicked that they are going to hurt her in some way. The nightmares remain, but now she clings to the two males when she wakes crying.
On a particularly charged night filled with celebrations. The three of them work through it at her pace. She sets boundaries like her therapist had told her to do. Daniel and Lando tell her everything they are going to do before they lay a finger on her.
She missed this.
She missed them.
Their hands don't burn her skin anymore.
226 notes · View notes
shapard · 2 months
Note
hi shepard, i dont normally do this, but i really like your wrighting and i was wondering if you did requests if you could do a lucifer x hellborn!reader where its just a lot of comfort, like the reader lost someone really close to them or something. if not, then no worries, dont feel pressured or anything 💛
Scarlet
Lucifer x hellborn!reader
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A/n: I never really said that I do request but I'm really happy if I get one. So, no Worries<3 I hope it's okay That I put a little Angst into it.
Soft Lucifer, comfort, Angst
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Words can not describe what you feel right now.
Your heart is pumping so loud in your chest as you read the red ink on the white Paper. You don’t want to believe it. It seems impossible. But it’s standing here red on white that your precious mother has passed away in a gang battle of those damn sinners. 
Your tears soften the paper and the red ink smeared the down written words. Your body starts to shake under the pressure of anxiety. 
Lucifer was out on a meeting with the other six sins.
At first he didn’t even want to go on a meeting knowing that your mental health wasn’t on its best shape. The panic attacks were way viler when he was not there. 
Nonetheless you told him you were fine, and he will go to this meeting. He was hiding all those years and you’ll not be in the way of a reunion. 
At first you were doing alright. Watching your comfort movie with your comfort snack was relaxing.
Your pajama was comfortable and your favorite plush was seated on your belly. You giggled at your favorite scene and hugged your plushie more on you.
A loud knocking hollowed through the huge Mainor you now call home. Lucifer didn’t tell you; he was expecting something. Confused you pressed on pause and walked down the hall. Your tail tangled itself on your leg hoping for some comfort. 
As you opened those huge doors a small Imp, just like you. He gave you a black Envelope with your name in white ink. The Imp gave you a slight bow and left fast. 
You walked down the hall back to the bedroom. You opened the black envelope and read the content.
Now you were at the verge of a panic attack. 
Sweat pearling down your forehead and you rolled into a small ball on the floor. The papier laid on the red carpet and you are right next to it.
Your tail was wrapped around you, yet it didn’t help you to feel connected to your body. You shook hard but all you could focus about was your mind running.
Memories of your lovely mother, the one who read stories to you at night to cradle you. 
The way she smiled at you when you told her you were in love. How she told you she’s so proud of you. How he held your hand through your marriage. 
And now she’s gone. 
Killed brutally like the Imp she was. Like the Imp you are. Another proof that no one cares about the life of an Imp.
The ringing in your head just seems to get louder, louder, and louder. Clutching your hands on your head trying to ease the painful headache that had begun.
Your breathing was starting to get heavier and heavier, it got to the point where you thought you couldn’t breathe anymore.
A hand pulled you out of your curled form pressing you on his chest. You immediately recognize that this is your husband.
Lucifer whispers in your ear and stroked your back in a comforting matter. He cradled your body and kissed your cheek multiple times.
“Everything is okay, I’m here. Just take a deep breath in... And out.” You followed his instructions. In and out. Your hand grasp around his torsi pulling him even closer.
The oxytocin was filling your lungs again and your broken cries filled the air. 
Even after-hours Lucifer never let go.
Lucifer doesn't know what happened that cost this state, but all he knows is that you need him. And that's exactly what he's going to do.
Lucifer carried you up to your sharing bed when your light snoring reached his ears. He hugged you close shutting his eyes, grabbing your waist tightly making you feel protective.
______
You rubbed your eyes exhausted from the panic attack yesterday.
As you spun around to look at your husband, Lucifer wasn’t beside you. Again the anxiety filled your ribcage, it was hard to breath.
“Lucifer?!” The door of your shared bedroom sprung open reveling your husband in one of those silly aprons he has. Your body quickly relaxed at the sight of him.
“Darling you’re awake!” His smile was precious and contagious. He moved rather fast towards you, and he stumbled. With grace he caught your breakfast and smiled nervously at you. “I made for you breakfast!” You laughed at his antics and took it out of his hands.
You gave him a peck on the lips and sat down on the bed. Lucifer followed you to the bed but didn't sit down.
Lucifers eyes sparkled when you ate his food. But frowned slightly when you suddenly stopped eating and played with the food.
With a sigh be plopped beside you. “Babe,” He placed the tray on the nightstand and intertwined your hands in his. “You know you can tell me everything.” You nod as you looked on your intertwined hand watching as he strokes his thumb on your hand. His clawed nail tapped on your shared ring.
“Look me in the face, darling.” His other hand moved your head upwards and your e/c orbs meet his red scarlet ones.
Without much thought you gave him the letter you received yesterday. He released your chin and took the letter out of your hand. Lucifers eyes left yours hesitant and he skips through the information. 
His hands clenched around yours in a comforting way after he finished. “Y/n I’m so sorry. I…” He took a deep breath and pressed you again onto his chest. “Everything will be alright darling.”
Your crying was breaking his heart. But letting out emotion is better than letting them eat you up. He knows it the best.
You two had almost a whole spa day.
Lucifer took care of you perfectly, just everything you needed.
His hand in yours like he promised in the wedding. Through thick and thin. The whole day, it was just you and him with pure affection. 
Lucifer and you were cuddled up on your couch. Your head was resting on his lap, and he played with your hand strands. “I Love you, Y/n Morningstar.” He said and pecked your lips. “I love you too, Lucifer Morningstar.”
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A/n: I hoped you enjoyed what I wrote❤️
💫
@i-have-no-life-charlie @sirenetheblogger @concentratedconcrete @ylovei @cimadreamer @ayanazoldyck @froggybich
If you want to be added click on Taglist
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bratzforchris · 2 months
Note
little!matt having a panic attack during a podcast and cg!reader helping calm him down maybe?
Relax, Baby
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Summary: Anxiety can be really, really hard, but with your help, Matt knows he'll always be okay<3
Pairing: Little!Matt x gender neutral and caregiver!reader
Warnings: Panic attack
Word Count: 894
A/N: As always, age regression is a nonsexual and innocent coping mechanism. Also, I am not saying or assuming this is how Matt is irl. It's fiction. If you don't like it, don't read it :) Enjoy!
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Anxiety and panic attacks had been a struggle in Matt’s life for quite some time now. He always thought too much about how people felt about him and how he was perceived, which would usually lead to him having a rather bad panic attack. You had known this going into your relationship with the boy, and together, you two had worked to find a solution that would help him heal and calm down.
When you had first suggested the idea of age regression to Matt, he had heavily refused, insisting that he didn’t need to be babied. With some gentle coaxing, you had gotten him to just try it, only for Matt to realize just how much regressing helped. Allowing someone else to take the reins for a bit, while he went back to a peaceful, childlike state, was like a breath of fresh air. Whenever he slipped into littlespace, Matt could feel the tension leaving his body, especially when he cuddled up with you. But littles were people with big emotions, and on days like today, those emotions took over everything else. 
The triplets were getting ready to film a new episode for Cut the Camera, and Matt was less than excited. Nick and Chris had been getting on his nerves all morning, calling him things like ‘Miserable Matt’ and ‘Mumble Matt’. Normally, this wouldn’t really bother him and he’d just make a joke back, but today, he’d been feeling extra anxious since the moment he’d woken up. Matt sat in his chair in front of the mic, fiddling with the stuffed flamingo he kept there for comfort. His mind was anywhere but the episode; instead, he was thinking about you upstairs in your cozy, shared bedroom. You had been disinfecting his stuffed animals when he came downstairs to film, and all he wanted was to be cuddled up in your arms again, covered up with his woodland animals blanket, paci in his mouth, and Mr. Wrinkleton in his hand. 
“God, Matt,” Nick interjected. “Are you even paying attention?”
Matt flushed scarlet, his ears and cheeks going red. “Um…what was the question?” he asked quietly, biting at his cuticles. 
“Kid can’t even remember the question,” Chris rolled his eyes. “Too busy being ‘Miserable Matt’ to pay attention.”
“I’m not being miserable,” Matt huffed. “I was just thinking.”
“About your significant other treating you like a fucking baby? Don’t think we haven’t noticed.” Chris bit back. 
That was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Matt hastily pushed his chair back, already sobbing and struggling to breathe. He had been on the verge of panic all morning, and now that Chris had spewed his deepest secret on camera, there was no going back. The brunette ran up the stairs, trying not to hyperventilate as he burst through the bedroom door. You looked up from the desk where you were working, glancing at Matt’s huddled form on the bed, his body shaking with tears. 
“Honey, what’s wrong? I thought you guys were filming?” You asked, checking the time on your phone as you rushed to Matt’s side. 
Matt just sobbed, his wails ricocheting around the room. His hands had moved to tangle in his hair as he hyperventilated, eyes wide with panic. You could see it in Matt’s glazed over eyes that he wasn’t fully ‘there’, whether that be from the panic or from slipping into littlespace. Either way, you knew you had to help him. You gently removed Matt’s hands from his hair as he wailed, holding them softly. 
“Matt. You are panicking. You need to breathe,” You instructed, placing one of his hands on your chest. “In for four, out for four. Copy me.”
Matt tried his best to copy you, and his cries slowly reduced to little sniffles and hiccups as he latched onto you, thumb migrating to his mouth. “Hate Chris. Hate him.” he mumbled, suckling on his thumb as his babyspace lisp made an appearance. 
“Oh sweetheart,” You cooed sadly. “Is that what’s got you so upset?”
Your boy sniffled again, laying his head down on your shoulder. “Feels sicky.”
You pouted, knowing that Matt tended to get nauseous during and after a panic attack, and especially after a fight with his brothers. You didn’t ask what had gone on between him and Chris for fear of upsetting, but you knew the conversation would need to happen eventually. You just moved towards the bed, laying down with Matt and tucking him in next to you. You handed him his water bottle and Mr. Wrinkleton off the nightstand, watching for any signs of another impending panic attack. 
“Can you drink some water, baby? Just a little?”
Matt nodded, taking a few small sips, before cuddling up with his stuffed animal. A great yawn escaped his mouth as you handed him his blue, decorated pacifier that read ‘Baby Boy’ on it. It wasn’t long before your boy was cuddled into your side, snoring softly while clutching his stuffie and suckling away on his pacifier. You knew that you would have to find out what Chris had done in order to make Matt so upset, but for now, you just focused on cuddling the sleeping baby beside you.
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tags ♡: @jake-and-johnnies-slut @mattsfavwh3re @suyqa @chrissturnswife @mbsbaby @herxyz @lovingchrissposts @caffeinatedscorpio @bunny-cotton @crazychrisl0v3r @sturnioloxlver @whicked-hazlatwhore @blahbel668 @junnniiieee07 @biggesthat3r @sturniolowhore @ginswife @emmagirouard @athaliahxoxo @bitchydragonparadise @ilydeaky @soggyslugg169 @not-phone-guy @books0fever @stingerayyy2 @sunsetsturniolos @mimi-luvzyu @faygo-frog @oobleoob @runasvengence @aemrsy
note ♡: my taglist is closed for the time being, thank you so much for your support 💐🧸🎀
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reiderwriter · 9 months
Note
Hi :) I've never requested before and am a little embarrassed to be here. But I'm also in my Spencer Reid Brainrot era and am a fan of your writing! I was thinking something with a virgin female reader who is genophobic (specifically fear of vaginal penetration, in her case) and Spencer helps her work through her fear and try something new? She doesnt need to have trauma, just the phobia. Either BAU or non BAU reader is fine, just as long as they aren't initially dating and there is a slow build up to the intimacy. Also, could it be race-blind? (e.g "I could see she was embarrassed" instead of "her cheeks turned pink") Fluff, smut, and mutual pining. Ack, please it would make my MONTH!!
-❤️‍🩹
A/N: I really hope I did this one justice!! It was fun to research and write and ahhh the slow burn (which was definitely a lot faster than it should have been if I had more time 🫣 sorry). I hope you like it!
W/C: 5k
Warnings: Genophobia (fear of sexual intimacy), panic attack, heavy petting, oral (F receiving), virgin reader, inexperienced Spencer, two idiots in love again, vaginal sex, fingering, contraception actually used! Mainly soft and sweet sex 😊
Find my masterlist here! Get ready for kinktober with me here!
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It was your worst nightmare come true.
You’d had a crush on Spencer for the last three years, working with him in the BAU since Elle had left. You’d joined the team alongside Emily and immediately become enamored with the boy genius, and how could you not? He was smart, and handsome, and most importantly, he respected boundaries.
But here he was in front of you, probably saying the words that you most wanted to hear from him, but he was so close, your heart was beating uncomfortably in your chest, your breath short and your eyes hazy and unfocused for all the wrong reasons.
“Just… If you don’t feel the same, I understand and I’ll never mention it again, but if there’s any chance that you.. That you love me the same way I love you, please tell me.” He had you boxed in against the wall, not touching you exactly, but so close you could feel his breath on your neck, could see the desperation in his eyes as he poured his heart out to you.
The man of your dreams was confessing his love to you, and you were on the verge of a panic attack at his attention.
“Spencer, I have to go,” you gasped out, grasping your chest as you begged your lungs to start working again, as you begged your mouth to stay and explain. But the tears were burning in the corners of your eyes and you had to run from the intimacy of the moment. “I have to... I’m sorry, Spencer, I can’t…” You didn’t get any other words out before you bolted out the door, desperate to find a bathroom stall to cry in. You weren’t sure if the tears were from the very real fear you’d just confronted or the realization that you’d probably just ruined your chances with Spencer Reid.
–X–
A week later, and the awkward tension between the two of you hadn’t dissipated. You wanted to explain yourself, of course, you did, but with the hurt look on Spencer’s face shooting through you every time you were at the other end of his gaze, combined with the absolute fear of being known and judged, you had guiltily kept your mouth shut.
The rest of the team had noticed, of course. The two of you were sending pining looks after one another whenever the other had their back turned, even when preoccupied with a prolific highway murderer, the team would be blind not to see it. Unfortunately for you, the members of the BAU weren’t the ones to let the tension go unconfronted, so you found yourself in increasingly solitary situations, alone but for the company of Spencer himself.
You’d been assigned to work the geographical profile with Spencer, despite usually working alongside Hotch, more used to comforting and interviewing families than analyzing charts and maps. The opportunity to explain had been handed to you on a silver platter, and you had to take it.
“Spencer, can we talk?” You blurted the words out after an unbearably long silence, having watched the man read case file after case file while you distractedly bumbled along beside him.
He paused and gave a small nod, bringing his head up, but not quite meeting your gaze.
“When you… When you said those things last week, did you mean them?”
“I don’t say things I don’t mean, Y/N.” The words were tense, but his voice was soft, his eyes holding a resigned look.
“I’m sorry... I’m sorry, shit, everything I say is going to sound like an excuse but I’m so sorry…” you rambled, trying to work up the courage to say what you actually wanted to.
“You don’t have to apologize for not feeling the same way I do. It’s okay, I know I’m not the easiest person to love and-”
“You are. You are, Spencer, don’t even think that you are the problem here, because you are not.” You gasped for breath as you pushed the words out unexpectedly, surprising even yourself with the conviction of your tone.
“I love you, Spencer, I do, I just…” You blinked back the tears again as your voice suddenly became a whisper.
“You know when we talked about our… our fears a few weeks back? And I said that I didn’t have anything specific that came to mind?” He listened attentively as you stuttered out the words.
“I lied. When… people get close to me, and when they get close to me in a way that specifically suggests that… suggests that they like me the way you like me, my chest gets tight, and I can’t breathe. Spencer, I’m… I’m scared of sex.”
You let the confession hang in the air between you, almost afraid to look up and see the sympathetic look in Spencer’s eyes. But you had to eventually, and you were surprised.
The man wasn’t even looking at you, and his expression couldn’t even be described as concerned, let alone empathetic.
“Spencer? Did you hear what I said?” He looked up and smiled at you, keeping his distance still, but opening up to you, facing you with open body language, putting all his attention on you without moving even an inch closer.
“Genophobia. Y/N, you’re describing Genophobia. It’s the fear of physical intimacy that often stems from a fear of pain during sexual intimacy or from physical symptoms, such as Vaginosis. Y/N, you don’t hate me.” His grin widened, and you let out a little laugh at the hopeful look on his face as he breathed out that last statement.
“No, no Spencer, I couldn’t hate you.”
“Good, because I thought I’d taken it too far… Nevermind. Y/N, is… is this something you want to work through?” His tone was cautious, and you were touched by the seriousness he was approaching with. Your previous boyfriends had mocked you when you explained why you couldn’t have sex with them, few as they may have been. You’d never been treated with such gentleness.
“Yes. I really want to work through it, but… Spencer, it might take a long time. Is that okay?” He considered your question for a minute, then replied with his own.
“Y/N, can I lean in and kiss your cheek, please? I won’t touch you anywhere else, I just want…please?” You felt a warmth bubbling under your cheeks at the situation, your tongue growing thick in your mouth, not allowing you to respond. You opted for a small nod instead, watching his every move as he slowly moved in.
Placing his hands on the table, he lifted himself up from his chair, keeping them firmly planted there so you could see that he wasn’t going to initiate anything further. His lips finally hit your cheek, and your heart started beating in that familiar way that it usually did, but you forced yourself to hold still until he pulled away. He did so quickly.
“Y/N, I don’t care how long it takes you to be comfortable with me. I’m just happy you chose me.” He finished, then grabbed a file and exited the room, leaving you alone again to calm your heart and un-fog your brain.
–X–
The case closed a few days later, but you didn’t have another chance to talk to Spencer anymore about your relationship, being so caught up in serving justice to the families of the victims. But as Friday approached, your job was finished, an unsub handed over to the authorities ready for prosecution, and you could finally fly back home.
Which is how you found yourself, on the last evening of the work week, pacing outside of his apartment, freaking out about whether you should knock or not. You’d held your hand up to knock a few times, but ultimately let it fall to your side, cursing your cowardice. It was just a door. He was just a man. A man who really cared about you. A man who wanted you. That thought should have had you jumping into his arms at every given opportunity, instead, it was causing heart palpitations at the thought of knocking on a door.
In the end, you didn’t have to knock.
“Y/N, what are you doing here?” You heard his voice from behind you as you jumped in place, startled by the fact that he was actually there.
“Shit, Spencer, don’t do that, you scared me.” You grabbed your chest and took a deep breath. He stood still, waiting for your answer to his previous question.
“I was just… Can I come in?”
“Oh. Oh, yeah of course, here let me…” His words trailed off as he grabbed his keys from his pocket, fumbling them slightly as he struggled to get the key into the door.
“Take a seat wherever you… Can, I guess? Sorry, I was doing some reading before I left.” He smiled awkwardly as you walked into the space, and you giggled a little at the confession, seeing that there was really only one open space on the couch left for you to occupy without having to perch awkwardly on the arm of the chair.
You took the seat, moving a single book onto a stack on the sofa next to you, and watched the man as he took off his scarf and coat, storing them and then awkwardly turning back to the couch. He looked around for a place to sit, and, coming to the same conclusion as you did, chose to perch himself on the opposite arm of the sofa to you.
“Oh, Spencer, this is your house, you should sit comfortably.”
“No, you’re a guest, it’s fine. I want you to feel comfortable. What did you want to talk about?” He cleared his throat a little and then turned his eyes back to you, signaling that he was ready to listen attentively.
“Oh…. I was hoping…. Spencer, can you touch me?” You saw his face flush at your suggestion, and your eyes widened at your own foolish wording.
“Shit, not like that. Not that I don’t want you to touch me like that, but I think it’s too soon, and I’m still not comfortable with that. I was just hoping that you could, you know, hold me for a while, like a hug or something?” You rambled it all out, and you could hear yourself rambling but you couldn’t stop it. The words dropped from your mouth before you could even think about stopping them, and you felt the blood rush to your head as you cringed slightly at the situation.
“Okay.”
“Okay? You’re…. You’re okay with that?” You asked, looking hopefully up at Spencer.
“Do you want to sit together, or were you thinking something else?” You jumped up from your seat then, and glanced around the room as you considered his words.
“Oh, um, sitting together would be good I suppose?” He nodded and lifted himself up from the arm, moving closer to you.
“I’m going to sit here, you should probably just join me when you want to, okay?” He whispered the words with a tender smile on his face, and you felt some of the tension in your shoulders disappear. It was incredible that he could do that with a simple smile, that with one glance he could relax your whole body enough to let you push yourself to the limits of your fear.
You gained some confidence, and after letting him get settled in the seat you had just vacated, you moved to straddle his lap. You heard his sharp intake of breath as you wrapped your arms up around his neck, nervously wondering if what you were doing was right.
“Is this okay for you, Y/N?” He asked, stuttering through the words as he struggled to stay focused on you.
“It’s okay now. I want to push myself a little.” You ran your hands down his arms, which had so far lain politely still on the sofa beside him before you pulled them around yourself, letting the hug deepen. He was warm, and between the two of you, you weren’t sure whose heartbeat was louder. You could hear both of them, the room totally still except for your breaths and blinks.
“Y/N, can I… can I kiss you?”
“Yes.” You whispered the word in a voice so small, you were sure he hadn’t heard it, as his head crept towards you so slowly you were sure he wasn’t moving. Eventually, you felt his breath on your skin more, and then his lips were softly pressing against your own, the pressure gentle, not demanding any more than what you were currently giving him.
You melted into it, pushing yourself further into his warmth, your chests now pressed together as he languidly moved his lips against yours, claiming them again and again and again. You kept pushing and pushing into him, growing more sloppy in your kisses, grabbing onto the back of his sweater with two desperate fists, needing him close.
It wasn’t until your hips bucked involuntarily in his lap, unconsciously demanding friction that you began to panic once again, immediately pulling your lips and torso out of his reach.
“Shit, I’m sorry, I can’t… it’s… shit it’s not you, Spencer. God, I’m such an idiot.” You pulled your hands over your eyes, embarrassed at the thought of being seen by him right then, but still firmly seated in his lap.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he said, pulling your hands away from your face with a gentle touch. “It’s okay, Y/N. We don’t have to do anything you aren’t comfortable with.” You nodded at his words and took a few more minutes to compose yourself.
“Can we…can we just cuddle for a while? Like this?” You asked, and his smile instantly became bright.
“I would love to. Let’s move some of these books though.” You shifted the books quickly and then fell back into his lap, his body now laying more vertically than before, stretching out into the larger space now available on the couch. You pushed your head into his chest, listening to his heartbeat, following it with your own, and letting it be the soundtrack to your descent into sleep.
–X–
Waking up in his arms was a life-changing experience. Sometime during your sleep, he had carried you to his bed, letting you sleep soundly as he made you more comfortable. He hadn’t taken any of your clothes off, of course, just removed your shoes and made sure you were warm enough in the skirt and blouse you had been wearing.
Your position had changed, too, and it was one of the first things you noticed as you blinked your eyes open, trying to rid them of sleep as you greeted the new day. Instead of being below you, he was behind you, pressed against you with a hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you into him like a child clutching a favored toy.
“Spence,” you whispered through a grin. “Spencer, wake up.” You turned your head around to him, but he moaned in his sleep, not wanting to leave his rest just yet. You giggled at his childlike petulance, trying to shift around to face him, but his grip was too tight. Pushing against him, you felt something, hard, pushing against your back. You shifted again, but it was still there, and it took you only a few more seconds to figure out what it was.
“Shit, Spencer, wake up,” your tone probably sounded more frantic than you felt, as it woke him quickly now, his body releasing yours enough to let him pull himself up, taking stock of the room as he looked around searching for what had panicked you.
“What is it, are you okay?” He returned his eyes to your face, but your gaze had slipped down his body, and through the much looser fitting sweatpants he’d thrown on at some point during the night, you could see the outline of his cock.
Curiously, the very sight didn’t have you bolting, as it had in situations in the past. You had frozen, of course, but you weren’t filled with as much dread as you had been only a few days prior with his confession.
“Fuck, Y/N, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to do that, it’s a biological reaction and… well it’s not purely biological, I do really have feelings for you, but I don’t want you to feel pressured, and… Let me go and get rid of this.” He moved to stand, but you grabbed his arm before he could completely pull away, his hand still resting on your waist.
“Wait… Could we continue from where we were last night?” You looked up at him, the embarrassment of your words sending a rush of adrenaline through your body, almost forcing you to take them back immediately.
“You… you want that?” For the second time in 24 hours, a whispered ‘yes’ was all it took to have him crash his lips into yours. The pressure was the same, but with his body hovering over yours, it felt even more intimate. His hands rubbed small reassuring circles on your hips, as you opened up to him, wanting to pull the full force of his weight down onto you.
His hand fell to your face as he encouraged you to open your mouth to his tongue, letting him explore it thoroughly as he lazily worked his mouth against your own. There was no fight for dominance here, just two people deeply exploring the feeling of one another, so wrapped up in the pleasure that no other thoughts could cross your minds. Not even that of fear.
He pulled away for a breath, and your lips trailed him, trying to capture him again and force him back to you, but he evaded you softly.
“Y/N, can I try something? I want to touch you…more. Is that okay?” You were so desperate for the feeling of his lips against yours again that you moaned out the yes before you even processed his words. His lips fell back against yours, but his weight shifted above you as his right hand trailed down your leg and then back up underneath your skirt.
The touch was so delicate that you shivered under the attention, but you felt your heart start beating faster and faster as he got closer to your center. He asked you once again, and you agreed before he finally touched you through the safety of your panties.
You moaned into the kiss as he cupped you, letting his thumb fall to your clit and beginning to explore you more. He swallowed each and every sound you made with his lips, committing every move you made, every reaction to memory. You grew more pliable under all his attentions, growing comfortable in reacting to his every movement, letting him control the pace and flow of your shared caresses. A heat was growing at the depth of your stomach, and you knew it was coming.
Your brain finally kicked back into gear as your orgasm washed over you, your eyes jolting open as he released your mouth, the breathless moan that erupted from you causing your entire body to tense up. You pushed him away, and clutched your chest, scrambling up into a seated position as he quickly noted the change in your body language, letting you out of his grip.
You struggled to get your breathing out of control, desperately searching for a way out, an excuse, or anything to say to make you feel better, but you came up blank.
“I’m sorry… I’m really…” You couldn’t force out any other words before you jumped out of his bed and bolted out of the apartment, having ruined everything again for the second time.
–X–
Another week ticked by before you knew it, and you still hadn’t talked to Spencer since he’d pushed you over the edge. The fact that he hadn’t tried to talk to you either had you convincing yourself that it meant whatever you shared was over now.
It was a nice feeling to share, but you couldn’t keep it up forever, just like you hadn’t been able to in any of your previous relationships. But there was something about Spencer that you didn’t want to give up on, so you didn’t.
You spent the week looking up advice on how to deal with your fear, booking appointments with Sex Therapists, and, to put it kindly, getting your body used to the idea of sexual interaction. You bought a small vibrator a day or two after you slept over at his house, nothing that would enter you, just something to play with to increase your confidence as you prepared yourself to apologize to him.
But despite all of your efforts, the tension was still running high in the team as they all noticed the sudden disconnect between you and your maybe-boyfriend.
So, with the newly discovered commitment to self-improvement, you found yourself at his door again on another Friday night, this time confidently knocking at the first attempt.
“Y/N, you’re here.” He said, mouth hanging open slightly as his unasked question hung in the air.
“I wanted to talk. About everything.”
“Sure, come in, come in.” He shut the door behind you, and you didn’t bother walking further than the entryway before you started again, not wanting to lose your conviction.
“Spencer, I want you to make love to me. I freaked out last time, and I ran away, and that was so shitty of me, but I think I’m ready now - I went to see this therapist and she gave me some advice, and I’ve been… I’ve been touching myself so I can get myself used to the idea of someone else touching me. And you’re the only person who I want to touch and to touch me, and you’re everything I’ve been thinking about, and I don’t want you to avoid me anymore or think this isn’t going anywhere.” You were almost breathless as you finished, having let your sentences blur into one, not bothering to pause in your exploration.
“Oh, thank god,” Spencer said, wrapping his hands around you suddenly, pulling you to him with a strength you didn’t know he had. “Well, not thank god that you want to have sex with me, thank god that I didn’t push it too far. I thought you hated me after last time, I thought I was trying to selfishly get you to open up too quickly, and I felt so bad about it.” He rambled just the same as you had, not letting go of you for all the world.
“You know, I’ve checked out like 50 books on sexual psychology from the University library this week, I was afraid the librarian was going to call the police on me for creepy behavior or something.” He laughed into you, letting his head drop to your shoulder as he held you comfortably.
“Spencer, that is so sweet.” You felt the sugar in your grin, knowing that this unabashed happiness wasn’t going away anytime soon, any negative feelings at being held this closely dissipating when faced with the love of his actions.
“I’m going to ask again, is that okay?” You nodded at his boyish grin, and he grinned down at you fondly.
“Y/N, may I kiss-” You didn’t let him finish, pushing yourself up on your toes to lock your lips with his before he could.
“Yes. Always yes.” You said releasing him, foreheads resting together.
“I know, but I like to ask.” His lips were on you again then, as he walked you back through his apartment, not stopping once to release your lips. Before you knew it, he was picking you up, and gently returning you to the bed you’d bolted from the week before.
He released you for a breath, and you pushed your top up and off, throwing it to the ground as he stared at you like you had personally each and every star in the sky.
“You’re amazing. I’m so proud of you.” He mumbled the words into your skin, before letting his hands once again fall under your skirt, beginning to massage your ass with a firm but still loving embrace. He pulled you against him again, your kisses becoming more and more needy as you felt him grow against you, with each stroke of his tongue forcing your hips to rub together deliciously.
“You know,” he spoke slowly, letting his lips fall down your neck and chest. “All of the literature I read suggested that foreplay was a good way to combat Genophobia. The more prepared you are for the actual sexual act, the less you worry about the ‘pain’ of it all.”
“What are you saying, Spencer?” You whispered, your heart beating fast, but not in an uncomfortable way anymore.
“I’m saying I want to make you feel good. Can I?” His lips had reached your skirt then, and he said the words as his head rested against your thigh, hands slowly pushing your legs wider and wider.
You nodded, and he dived in, at first licking through your underwear as you moaned and writhed underneath him. His hands worked the panties down your legs as he kissed your inner thighs, pushing your skirt up and over your hips so you could watch his every move.
“Fuck Spencer,” you ground into his face again as he returned his tongue to your now soaking hole, desperately chasing the pleasure of his attention. You’d had the time to explore this week, obviously, but it was nothing like this. Every kiss, every suck, every lick, spoke a thousand words to his devotion to you, his love being pressed into you from between your legs. You didn’t know it could be like this. You didn’t think it would be with anyone who wasn’t him.
“Spencer, I can feel it…. Spencer, don’t stop.” You worked a hand into his hair and shamelessly bucked into him now, you high hitting you just like you knew it would. If the first time had been a surprise, this time had been an inevitability. You felt him keep up his ministrations, letting you ride out the full wave of pleasure. When he finally pulled away, he looked into your eyes for confirmation that everything he’d done was okay. Moving a hand to wipe your arousal from his mouth, you stopped him mid-motion and pulled him back on top of you, wrapping your tongue around his own and delighting in the taste of his success.
“Let’s keep going,” you said softly into his ear, and he moaned his approval, before quickly divesting himself of his pants and grabbing a condom from his bedside table.
“Morgan got me a pack of these at Christmas, as a joke, y’know,” he laughed, kissing down your neck again, paying special attention to the few spots darkening to splashes of red.
“Not the time, Spencer,” you laugh at him, and he squeaks out an apology before lining himself up with you.
“You’re sure this is what you want?” He asks, a concerned look plastered on his face, and you pull him down for one short tender kiss before answering again.
“I have never been so sure of any decision I have made in my life, as I am sure about you.” He pressed a kiss to your lips in thanks and then slowly began to fill you up.
There was a small panic in the back of your mind, but he kissed praise into your skin, replacing all of your negative thoughts with nothing but his words, his actions, his love. You relaxed as he stretched you out, not moving his hips but letting his hand return between your legs to help you further adjust to the newness of it all.
You saw a panicked look fall across his face as he kissed away small tears that fell from your eyes, each a small apology for the pain, the confusion of your mixed emotions, but you just laughed his concern away.
“Happy tears, Spencer. They’re happy tears.” He laughed with you then, and with one last seeking out of your approval, you began to move together. His thrusts were slow, lavishing you with attention, letting you feel all of him as his body sought your pleasure. Your legs wrapped around him, unable to stop the desperate need to buck up, up, up with each of his downward strokes.
You were a mess of limbs and kisses, neither of you experienced enough to know how to do anything past what felt good, what felt natural, and you spent your time together like that, giggling with each chaste kiss, moaning and sighing as you both worked your way up to an ecstatic release.
Falling down on top of you after you came together, Spencer didn’t pull out, holding you somehow closer than before as you both let the oxygen return to your lungs.
“I love you,” he whispered into your lips.
“I love you,” you whispered back.
Yes, it was not going to be like that with anyone else. And you didn’t want anyone else at all, now that you finally had him.
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