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dfortrafalgar · 2 days ago

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Stain

You're awoken from your slumber by Law, only to find an accident that happened overnight.

Warnings: Female periods

Ever the professional, level-headed man, Law barely blinked twice when he realized what he saw out of the corner of his eye when he carefully slipped out from under his bedsheets, leaving you nestled under the warm blankets in a peaceful slumber. The light from the gas lamp he kept lit in his quarters overnight barely supplied his retinas any way to take in what he noticed, but he still spotted it.

Right beside your curled up form was a splotch of deep red fluid staining the plain white bedsheets. A larger stain ran from between your legs and up the back of your shorts.

Law grabbed a small agenda you kept beside the bed which helped you keep track of any of your bodily needs being on a pirate ship away from land for most of your time. You would always blot the days you got your period with red ink to stay on top of when your cycle would most likely appear. Just as Law anticipated, your cycle arrived a week earlier than you had initially planned.

He made quick work of marking the day’s small box with a blot of red ink for you. Tucking away the agenda, he shoved aside any of his current early morning plans and instead placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, lightly jostling you awake. With a grumble, you tucked your head into your arms, hiding your face from the world in a feeble attempt to get more precious sleep.

“Baby, wake up,” Law said with a hushed tone.

“What do you want,” you mumbled into your pillow.

You made a motion to roll over and face your boyfriend, but the slight movement of your body immediately alerted you to the uncomfortable, wet feeling in your shorts. You propped yourself up on your elbows, gazing over your body, eyes falling on the obvious blood stain that lay below you.

“Oh my god–”

Law’s hand wrapped around your wrist and beckoned you closer. “Don’t worry about it.”

“But I ruined your sheets,” you responded with worry laced on your tongue, now fully awake and aware of your situation. “I didn’t know it would be here so early…”

“You couldn’t have known,” he reassured you with a calm demeanor. His pulling on your wrist finally caused you to maneuver carefully towards him, allowing Law to scoop his arms under your legs and haul you out of bed.

You cringed at the feeling between your legs. “I’m so sorry.” Your arms wrapped around his neck for stability.

Law responded by placing a kiss to the top of your head. He used his foot to open his small private bathroom, allowing you to step out of his arms and onto the floor. Wordlessly, he started the tap of the metal bathtub, letting hot water flow into the basin. You watched helplessly as he opened a tiny wooden linen cupboard, procuring two towels, an unopened bar of light soap, and a very small bottle of a lavender scented body wash.

The sight made you crack a smile. “Where did you get a lavender body wash?”

“Stole it from an inn we stayed at on an island. Free soap and shampoo can’t be beat,” he muttered. You snorted, which made your boyfriend smile at you, amused by the situation himself. He turned back to you after placing the items on the side of the bath. “You get undressed, I’ll change the bed.” With a frown, you removed your bed shirt. “You really shouldn't, I'm the one that made the mess.”

“Nah, you can’t make a mess when you’re sleeping.” Law held out his hand towards you when you removed your ruined shorts and underwear. You were bare in front of him, knowing that you had absolutely nothing you could hide from him even if you wanted to. (He had already seen every inch of you.)

“What?” you asked, confused, looking at his hand.

“I’ll clean your shorts.”

“Huh? No, they’re disgusting now, I can just throw them out!”

Law grabbed the tiny bottle of body wash from the side of the tub. Staring at you with his steely gray eyes, he uttered something under his breath that was drowned out by the sound of the gushing water flowing into the basin. Suddenly, your hand grasped the body wash, and Law’s hand held the cleaner portion of your panties and shorts. With a smirk, he said, “I’ll clean them.”

“You’re so stubborn,” you retorted with a pout that quickly turned into a pleased smile. “You treat me so well.”

“Of course I do. Now get in the bath and clean up.”

“Aye aye, captain,” you mused with a chuckle. Law rolled his eyes, leaving you to bathe in private, knowing his coy smirk gave away any hint of feigned annoyance.

You rinsed your lower body before settling into the bath, sighing at the warmth flooding across your skin. The metal wash basin kept the water insulated, which kept you much warmer for longer. It was pure bliss, steam slowly flowing through the air. You could easily fall back into a nice sleep like this, but you could already hear Law’s disapproving voice in your ear advising you not to. ‘Your skin will dry out and you’ll get sores and those will get infected,’ he’d probably say. He was always so matter-of-fact when it came to anything medical, not that you could really blame him.

With a hum, you poured some of the body wash into your hands and scrubbed it along your body, inhaling the soothing scent that wafted through the steam. Your boyfriend was really too good to you. Most people would be revolted waking up to a blood stain from a period in their bed, but Law couldn’t be phased by anything. It was nature, it was a fact of life. He gave you no room to be embarrassed, which made you quickly shove down any shame you felt and replace it with relief and glee that you were lucky enough to end up with a man so understanding and empathetic in his own strange ways.

You didn’t know how much time passed, your eyes closed taking in all the warmth you could from the soothing bath, now accompanied by a lingering floral aroma in the air. You jumped slightly at the sound of the narrow door swinging open with a creak, revealing the lanky form of Law with a brand new change of clothes in his hands. Tucked in his arm with your clothes was a small box of tampons and a slightly larger plastic bag full of wrapped pads.

“I got them from the crew bathroom, I realized we ran out in here.” He placed the items on the lid of the tiny toilet that occupied his private bathroom. “How are you feeling?”

“I feel fine, really, just a bit embarrassed still,” you replied.

Law nodded. “I get it.” He procured your previous pair of underwear from the pocket of his sweatpants. With a smug grin, he held them up in his one hand, making the fabric sway back and forth in the air. “Look, no stain.”

Your eyes widened. They looked brand new. “How did you do that?”

The raven-haired man simply shrugged, waggling his fingers on his free hand. “Little devil fruit abuse.”

You groaned. “You do too much!”

He shoved them back into his pocket. “I think I do just enough. But if you want to pay me back somehow, I wouldn’t say no.” He flashed a coy wink toward you.

You cupped water in your hands and flung it at him, making him jump backward with a shout. “You sly bastard!” you chided with a hearty laugh.

Law couldn’t fight his own chuckle that bubbled from his lungs as he perched on the edge of the tub, leaning his elbow on his knee as he dragged his lean fingers through your damp hair. You leaned into his touch, warmth from the bath water as well as his tender caresses making the blood in your veins spark with boundless affection… until a hefty yawn forced its way out.

You pouted. “You treat me so well, but you did wake me up.”

“Yeah?” your boyfriend added.

“I’m expecting you to let me sleep in tomorrow to make up for this.”

“No-can-do, sweetpea. You’re on morning watch.”

The Surgeon of Death quieted your protest with a firm kiss to your lips, his heart hammering behind his sternum as you dropped the subject and smiled against his skin.

#x reader #reader insert #fem reader #one piece x reader #op x reader #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #trafalgar d water law x reader #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law #law oneshot

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gf2bellamy · 20 hours ago

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home — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x reader ( no use of y/n ) summary: spencer comes home from a case content warnings: spencer being exhausted , mention of feeling lonely a/n: i truly am in my spencer era all i think abt is him

Spencer pushed open the door to his apartment, the familiar creak of the hinges welcoming him home.

A wave of warmth greeted him, the soft glow of the living room lamp spilling across the space, a contrast to the biting chill of the freezing night outside.

He stepped inside, letting the door shut gently behind him.

It had been a grueling four days. Four long, restless days on a case that had tested his limits emotionally and mentally.

Four days without sleep, without comfort, and—most importantly—without you.

As Spencer stepped further into the apartment, his eyes landed on you immediately. You were curled up on his couch, your back turned to him, the glow of the television flickering against the walls.

The remote was in your hand as you flipped through channels, not lingering on any one show for long. The volume was high—louder than he usually kept it—and it didn’t seem like you had noticed him yet.

He smiled to himself, the sight of you there, so at home in his space, filling his chest with warmth. He remembered the time you told him why you always came over when he was out of town.

“I just feel closer to you here,” you’d confessed once, a little sheepishly. “I know it’s silly, but it makes the time pass faster. Plus…” You’d laughed lightly, though there was a hint of shyness in your voice. “Your apartment feels so... you. It’s comforting.”

You’d also told him before that the quiet of his apartment felt strange when he wasn’t home, that the noise of the TV helped keep the loneliness at bay.

He set his bag down as quietly as he could, not wanting to startle you just yet.

Instead, he stood there for a moment, taking it all in—the way you were absentmindedly chewing on your lip as you scrolled through the channels, the way the blanket was half-falling off your shoulder, and the faint scent of your perfume lingering in the air.

You yawned loudly, stretching out on the couch before glancing at the watch on your wrist—the one Spencer had given you.

It was a thoughtful gift, something that felt like him in every way. You smiled faintly at the memory of how shy he’d been when he’d handed it to you, murmuring something about how it “reminded him of you”

It had quickly become one of your favorite things.

With a sigh, you let your head fall back against the armrest, your body slowly sinking into the cushions as you sprawled out on the couch.

The warmth of the blanket and the soft hum of the TV were comforting, but the ache of missing Spencer still lingered in your

chest. Four days without him felt like an eternity.

The sound of soft footsteps made your eyes dart toward the doorway, and you sat up slightly, your heart skipping a beat. For a moment, your mind raced, caught off guard by the shadowy figure stepping into the light.

But as the familiar sight of Spencer came into view, a wave of relief and joy washed over you.

“Spence,” you breathed, your lips curving into a wide, genuine smile. You stood up quickly, the blanket falling to the floor as you closed the distance between you. Without hesitation, you threw your arms around him, standing on your toes to pull him into a tight hug.

His arms came around you instantly, wrapping you up in his warmth as if he never wanted to let you go.

“I missed you,” he murmured against your hair, his voice soft.

“I missed you too,” you whispered, burying your face in his neck.

You let your arms slip from his neck, only to gently cup his face in your hands. His skin was warm under your touch, and your thumbs instinctively brushed along his cheekbones.

“You okay?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper. It was a question you always asked, no matter what, and he always gave the same answer.

“I’m fine,” Spencer replied, his hazel eyes meeting yours. It was the same response. You could tell he was tired, not just physically but emotionally.

You didn’t push, though. Instead, you smiled gently, giving his face a final tender stroke before grabbing his hand and tugging him toward the couch.

“Come on, genius,” you said playfully, trying to lighten the mood as you pulled him down beside you.

Spencer sank into the cushions with a sigh, letting the tension melt from his body as he leaned back. But before you could settle into your own spot, his arm wrapped around your waist, gently tugging you closer.

“Stay,” he murmured.

You shifted toward him, your body curling into his side as you rested your head on his shoulder. For a while, the two of you sat there in silence, the hum of the TV playing in the background.

His fingers absentmindedly traced patterns on your arm, his touch featherlight.

But then, as if Spencer couldn’t hold himself upright any longer, he shifted, laying down fully on the couch and pulling you with him.

You laughed softly as he guided you to lie beneath him, his long limbs sprawling across the cushions. “Spence,” you said, your tone half-teasing. “You’re crushing me.”

He propped himself up just slightly, his weight resting more on his forearms as he looked down at you. “I thought you said you missed me,” he teased back, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

“I did,” you admitted, sliding your hands up to rest on his shoulders. “But I didn’t mean I wanted you to flatten me.”

Spencer chuckled, the sound low and warm as he shifted his weight again, this time fully relaxing against you but keeping enough of it off so you could still breathe.

His head rested on your chest now, his curls brushing against your chin.

“You’re comfortable,” he murmured, his voice muffled slightly as he nuzzled closer.

A soft laugh escaped you as your fingers found their way into his hair, your nails lightly grazing his scalp.

“Well, you’re lucky I don’t mind being your human pillow,” you said with a grin, threading your fingers through his curls.

Spencer sighed, his whole body melting into yours. “I could stay like this forever,” he mumbled, his voice soft and drowsy.

You smiled down at him, watching as his eyes fluttered shut.

“Good,” you whispered, continuing to run your fingers through his hair. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #criminal minds x you #spencer reid #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fic

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wendichester · 24 hours ago

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i see your requests are open. could i please request something where the reader is taking care of dean 👉👈 your fics are so sweet 😄 💞

.˖`₊⊹ʚ ۶ৎ stitches,

summary. dean is reckless, but luckily, you're always there

pairing. dean winchester x reader

wordcount. 537

notes. thank you so much for requesting this, love. soft dean is everything 😮‍💨

Dean Winchester is a stubborn man. You’ve known this since the day you met him, and yet, every time he gets himself hurt, he somehow manages to surprise you with just how hardheaded he can be.

“I’m fine,” he grumbles, wincing as you press a damp cloth to the gash on his temple. His green eyes avoid yours, but the telltale twitch in his jaw gives away his discomfort.

“Sure, you are,” you reply, your voice flat. “That’s why you were swaying like a drunk on a tightrope when you walked in here.”

He huffs but doesn’t argue. Instead, he sits on the edge of the motel bed, his shoulders slumped and lets you clean the wound. It’s rare for Dean to let someone take care of him—rarer still for him to sit still while it happens.

“Could you hold still?” you ask, raising an eyebrow when he flinches under your touch.

“Your hands are cold,” he mutters, sounding more like a petulant child than the seasoned hunter he is.

You bite back a smile, dabbing at the cut gently. “You’re lucky I have steady hands. Or should I let Sam stitch you up next time?”

That earns you a low chuckle, his lips twitching into a half-smile. “I’ll take my chances with you, thanks.”

The silence between you is heavy but not uncomfortable as you work. The warm glow of the bedside lamp casts soft shadows on his face, highlighting the lines etched by years of hunting, of carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“You really scared me today, you know,” you say quietly, focusing on wrapping the bandage around his head.

Dean’s eyes flick to yours, guilt flashing across them before he looks away. “Didn’t mean to,” he says softly. “Things just got... messy.”

“That’s one way to put it,” you murmur, tying off the bandage. You lean back to survey your work, satisfied that the wound is cleaned and secure. “You’re all patched up now, but you’re not off the hook. You need to rest.”

Dean snorts, leaning back on his elbows. “Rest? Come on, sweetheart. There’s no rest for the—”

“If you say ‘the wicked,’ I swear I’ll make you sleep on the floor,” you interrupt, hands on your hips.

His grin is wide and boyish, the kind that makes your heart skip a beat despite your exasperation. “Yes, ma’am.”

Shaking your head, you grab a bottle of water from the nightstand and hand it to him. “Drink this. And no beer until you’ve had some actual sleep.”

Dean takes the bottle, his fingers brushing against yours. He’s quiet for a moment, his gaze lingering on your face. “Thanks,” he says, his voice low and sincere.

“For what?”

“For putting up with me,” he says, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips.

You roll your eyes, though your heart swells at his rare moment of vulnerability. “Somebody has to. Now lie down before I knock you out myself.”

Dean chuckles, but he does as he’s told, stretching out on the bed with a groan. As you pull the blanket over him, his hand catches yours, his grip warm and firm.

“You’re a lifesaver,” he murmurs, his eyes already fluttering shut.

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#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x oc #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester fic #supernatural #.docx #.req

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lieslab · 11 hours ago

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I'm stuck with a phobia

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: Og8 X gn reader

Summary: You're struggling with your anxiety when your boyfriend comforts you.

Genre: Comfort/hurt

Word Count: 5.3K

Anxiety resources

Trigger warning: General anxiety, testing anxiety, anxiety surrounding hospitals and doctors/nurses, brief mention of insecurities, social anxiety, and over-stimulation.

A/N: To whoever requested this, you requested 3racha members specifically, but I didn't want to leave the other members out, so they're all here. Each scenario is different and most are based on different scenarios that can cause anxiety/anxiety attacks. Some of these are a little more serious than others, but I think you get the gist.

_ _ _

Chan:

You couldn’t remember the last time that you weren’t in a constant state of anxiety. Anxiety always draped over your shoulders like a shawl you couldn't rip off. A suffocating scarf that grew tighter and tighter around your throat.

Your heart bucked against your chest, a weak attempt at trying to dislodge from the anxiety in your body. It never worked. It tried and tried and tried, but your sternum was far too strong.

Despite being there, you learned to live with it. You learned to try to ignore the heavy thumps and distract yourself with simplicities; anything to get away from the feeling of your soul being caged. Usually, you could distract yourself, but tonight was different.

It uprooted from nowhere. A current of anxiety pulled you into the depths of your head and suddenly, still half-asleep in the middle of the night, the what-ifs were coming back. What if you weren’t good enough? What if you weren’t a great person? What if Chan’s love for you was all a lie?

Beside you, Chan’s eyelashes cast shadows on his sleeping face. Soft lips pressed together and, for once in his life, that furrow of concentration didn’t hang in his brow. That grit of determination was gone. For tonight, he wasn't just a leader. He wasn’t a member; he wasn’t anything other than Chan, your boyfriend.

You tried to be quiet as you shifted the blankets and attempted to leave the bed. The squeak of the bed frame and the dip of the bed stirred his sleep. Your name left his lips and a hand stretched out to touch you, but you were already standing up.

“Baby?” His half-lidded eyes open. Darkness swarmed his vision and you froze. He blinked and blinked and blinked, trying to cast shapes to the shadows. “Baby?”

“I’m right here,” you finally whispered. “Go back to sleep. It’s too early to get up.”

“Where are you going?”

“To get a glass of water.” Your voice came out groggy and unconvincing.

He reached up, rubbed his eyes, and his mouth stretched into a yawn. “What are you really doing?”

“I’m anxious and I can’t sleep. It’s never ending and I’ve been trying to sleep, but over the past few hours, I kept waking up. I’m not sure what it is, but it won’t go away. Go back to sleep, I’m going to-”

His arms stretched out in your direction. A silent and simple command, come here. You hesitated and didn’t budge from your spot. “You should go back to sleep. Seriously, Chan, you have to be up early tomorrow.”

“You either get in my arms or I follow you to the couch.”

He was so stubborn. You didn’t know if it made you hate him or love him. So stubborn, so determined, such a pain in your ass. A constant nag and a forever reminder that you weren’t alone.

You sighed, stepped back, and crawled back into the bed. He wrapped his muscular arms around you and pulled you closer. The scent of his body wash was faint, but the woodsy masculine scent still lingered.

“Close your eyes.”

You let your eyes fall and sighed again. He pressed a quick kiss to the side of your head before softly beginning to sing. The worry in your heart melted away instantly. You began to relax and let his sleepy voice lull you back to sleep.

Dating a singer had more perks than you’d like to admit.

_ _ _

Minho:

“What is wrong with you?” Minho asked.

The two of you were sitting in his living room and watching a movie. Halfway through, you shifted in your chair and became fidgety. You shrugged and waved him off, not wanting to distract him.

His eyes narrowed at you, but he didn’t prod. Knowing you, you probably just needed to adjust your spot or something. You were never great at sitting still for long periods of time. After a few more minutes, you shifted again. Your nails curled into your palms and the sharp edges bit into your skin.

You shifted to comfort yourself a few seconds later. When your knee started bouncing, Minho grabbed the television remote and paused the screen. “What are you doing?”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t do that. Your thing-” He gestured towards you. “You’re anxious or something. Your knee is bouncing and you can’t sit still. Why are you anxious?”

“Because I’ve never seen this movie and what if my favorite character dies?” You slumped back in the seat with a frown. “Don’t you have a heart? How are you not anxious about this?”

“So anxious, to where you can’t stop moving?”

Your hand went up in defeat. “I can’t help it! I’m always like this when I don’t know the ending of a movie. I’m trying not to look up how it ends, but I want to. I can't stand the suspense!”

“Hold on.”

You watched as Minho slid across the hardwood floor and disappeared into the kitchen. Upon his return, he presented you with Dori's familiar black and brown coating. His feet dangled helplessly as Minho approached.

“Have a cat.”

“What is-”

“Hold on.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, but you grabbed Dori anyway. You shifted, trying to keep him comfortable. Small paws pressed into your lower stomach. He tried to pull away from you to lie on your thighs.

Your head poked up at the sound of incoming footsteps. When you looked up, an unhappy Soonie glared at you. You pressed your lips together, trying not to laugh. “What is this?”

“Have a cat.”

“Minho, this is-”

“Wait.”

You tried not to laugh as he disappeared again. Dori shifted and Soonie’s head went back with a loud meow of distress. You reached up and gently patted his head, trying to calm him down.

Footsteps patted your way for a final time and when you looked up, the sleepy eyes of Doongie were staring back, full of obvious annoyance. Minho pressed him further, nearly pushing into your nose. “Here, have a cat.”

You let him place Doongie on your chest. He reached out and used a finger to tap the top of each of their heads. “One cat, two cats, three cats, and-”

You glanced up and, to your surprise, he tapped the tip of your nose. “Four cats.”

“I’m not a cat!”

“Four cats.”

You grumbled and complained, your anxiety long forgotten about. Doongie shifted, nearly falling off your chest. You quickly grabbed him and leaned back so he wouldn’t roll. “There are too many cats in my lap.”

“Nuh-uh.”

You opened your mouth to bicker, but your words halted. Minho shifted Dori and Soonie, so he could squirm into your lap with them. Your eyes widened as he sat across your lap. “What are you-”

“Five cats.”

“Lee Minho!”

“Sorry, I only speak cat.” He picked up Dori’s paw and waved it in your direction. Garbled meows in various pitches fell from his lips. All you could do was stare at him blankly as he took Dori’s paw and gently booped your nose with it.

Clearly, growing up as an only child with three cats has drastic effects on the human psyche.

_ _ _

Changbin:

You decided when you were a kid that quizzes were your worst enemy. Ever since you were in elementary school and colorful motivational posters plastered the walls, you knew you’d always hate tests. Tests. Quizzes. Finals. All of it.

As you grew up and enrolled in college, things didn’t change. Your kitchen table was full of opened textbooks and sticky note reminders. Highlighters swept over topics in notebooks. A headache had been pulsing behind your left eye since you started.

You were drowning in academics. Even worse, you were drowning alone. Changbin was out at a photoshoot and you were on your own until sometime late tonight. It was perfect in your head. You were two weeks away from finals and now you had plenty of time to study.

You were trying your best. You did what you could, but the more you pressured yourself into studying more, the more the content wasn’t sticking. There was too much stuff for each subject and not enough space in your head. Everything you just spent two hours drilling into your frontal cortex; it was gone.

You scanned the pages of the textbooks, reading the words, but never truly soaking them in. Words and words and words and words. Some are more complex than others, but it was all the same. You were so focused and anxious about forgetting and failing; it was the only thing taking up space in your head.

You shoved everything away from you in a fit of rage. A textbook snapped shut and hit the floor with a loud thud. Your neatly stacked vocabulary cards that were in alphabetical order, they slipped over the edge too. The twenty minutes you spent organizing them were all for nothing. They scattered in every direction and brought tears to your eyes.

Your face found your hands and that’s where they stayed. Elementary tests were far different from college tests. Twenty percent of these finals went to your final grades. Your final grades were important, especially in the classes you really struggled with. The difference between passing and failing was huge.

“Honey, I’m home!” Changbin called out. “I’m home and I brought food! Have you eaten anything?” Footsteps echoed from the living room and moved closer.

You didn’t bother looking up. On the verge of bursting into sobs, you stayed buried in your hands. Changbin’s eyes went to everything covering the table. “Woah! What’s all this?”

He placed the plastic bag on the side of the counter and approached you. “Hey, what’s wrong?” A comforting hand found your shoulder. “Why are your note cards and textbook on the floor? Did something happen?”

You pulled your face away from your hands with tears in your eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m stressed and anxious. As you can see, I’m trying to study, but nothing is sticking.” You sniffled and wiped away a tear. “Why are you home from the shoot early? Did something happen?”

“No, we finished early. Apparently, we all behaved well and behaving means getting work done earlier. That’s not the point. Do you have tests coming up?” His fingers started at your crown and gently tugged back your hair.

“Finals. They’re two weeks away and I could use the head start, but-” You gestured at the mess, “it’s not going so well.”

“I can see that. How about-” He gently grabbed a fistful of your hair and leaned your head back to face him. “We clean this up and we eat. After dinner, we’ll pick one subject and start there. I’ve heard that if you can successfully teach what you’re learning to someone, it means you’ve mastered understanding it.”

Your lips tugged into a pouting frown. More tears filled your eyes and you reached up to wipe them away. Changbin followed your reaction with his own frown. “Why are you crying?”

“Because you’re sweet and sometimes I feel like I don’t deserve you.”

“Nonsense, everyone deserves their own Changbinnie.” He reached down and placed a soft kiss against your pouty lips. “Go clean up and I’m going to stack these on the counter.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too. Now hurry!” He pulled away and shooed you. “The food is going to get cold and you know how I feel about cold food. Bleh.”

_ _ _

Hyunjin:

“Sweetheart, you can’t stay in the car the entire day.” Hyunjin hung against the wide open passenger door with an amused smile. “You know I’m stronger than you, right? I could just simply lean down and tug you straight out of there.”

You threw him a weak side eye. This morning, you woke up feeling awful. Since it was his day off, Hyunjin had been taking care of you the entire evening. Every few hours, he had been taking your temperature. When it spiked three degrees in ‌a few hours, he insisted on taking you to the hospital.

The only issue? You hated hospitals and doctors. Not once in your life had you ever trusted a nurse. In the middle of your fever, your anxiety sky-rocketed. You begged him not to take you, but here the two of you were now. He parked right beside the emergency room door, but you refused to get out of his car.

“What if I go in there and they only give me twenty-four hours to live?” You hoarsely uttered.

“Then we better get in there to make sure you have twenty-four hours and not twenty-three.”

“What if they tell me I have cancer?”

“Sweetheart-”

“Or what if it’s worse than that? What if I have a broken bone that I’m not aware of? My foot has been hurting since I rolled it a few days ago and maybe it healed wrong. What if they have to break it again and it goes wrong? What if it gets infected and I lose my entire leg?”

He called your name, but you didn’t respond. You were too busy voicing your concerns out loud. “What if,” you continued, “they find out I’m really sick and they have to give me a shot in the butt?”

He blinked, completely surprised. “What if they what?”

“You heard me, Hyunjin! What if they have to give me a shot in the ass? Why can’t we just go back to that sweet pink medicine that was stored in the fridge? Why do doctors cause misery?” You threw your head back against the seat and continued whining.

You knew you were being dramatic, but between your high fever and your anxiety, you were spiraling. Just thinking about going in and being poked and prodded in your state. It was unfathomable.

“Or, I know this sounds crazy, but what if you just go in, they diagnose you, give you some medicine, and we go back home?”

“Why would they do that? They’re evil doctors,” you whined as your head slumped to your chest. You were exhausted and trying to fight with Hyunjin, it was getting harder and harder to stay on topic. Your body ached and wanted to nod off.

“They’re not evil and I’ll be right there with you the entire time.” He reached down and scooped you into his arms. “Do you think I’d let them hurt you? No way.”

You groaned as your head shifted against the warmth of his chest. “They’re gonna kill me, probably. Kill me and rip my limbs apart. They’re going to feed me my feet and they’re going to-”

He snorted and squeezed you tighter. “Sweetheart, what are you talking about? Doctors wouldn’t do such an outrageous thing. They want to help you, not feed you your own feet.”

“I forgot you’d eat my feet.”

“Huh?”

“You ate Minho’s foot in that one photo.”

“Honey, I think you’re delirious from your fever.”

Your eyes drooped and the emergency doors swung open. The scent of disinfectant hit you and your eyes slipped shut. You mumbled his name, but he didn’t stop walking to the front desk. He started explaining the situation to a nurse.

That didn’t stop you from trying to explain how you needed your feet as you succumbed to sleep.

_ _ _

Han:

“I’m anxious,” you uttered as you laid on the living room floor. Your limbs sprawled out and your gaze caught the spinning ceiling fan. Wooden panels whirled around so fast that they were a giant blur.

“Me too.” Han agreed as he laid a few feet away from you. “I don’t know what I’m anxious about. What are you anxious about?”

“The future, I think. How does it happen? What if it goes wrong? What if I make the wrong mistakes? What if I fuck it up?”

Han’s eyes widened and his adam’s apple bobbed with a gulp. “Okay, cool. Now you have me anxious about the future, too.”

“What if we break up?”

“What if we’re together for the rest of our lives?” He countered.

“Woah, are we prepared for that? For this forever? I want to say that I am, but forever is an awfully long time.”

“Isn’t it a good thing?”

“Listen, I’ve been a victim of your farts.”

He reached over and playfully slapped his hand on your shoulder, causing you to laugh. “Shut up!” He whined. “Yours are ten times worse than mine.”

“Nuh-uh!”

“Yeah-huh!”

“Prove it!” You challenged.

“Stage one, denial.”

You burst into a fit of giggles and he followed. Your hands curled up over your stomach as you shook. For a few brief moments, you pushed the anxiety from the front of your head. You sucked in a deep breath and let it out.

“But really,” you continued, “how do you stop your anxiety?”

“I ignore it by watching anime. How do you stop yours when it’s bad?” He shifted so he could stare at you. You didn’t move from laying on your back. His arm moved up to prop his head.

“I do whatever I can to escape reality. Most of the time, it’s social media or shoving my nose in a book.”

“Sometimes I bother one of the guys. Life feels better when I’m with them. Even if it’s just one, I feel less stressed. We’re always laughing together so…”

“I understand, it’s a really special bond that you have with the other group members. I’ll admit that it makes me jealous. It just sounds nice and what you have, it’s so authentic and real, you know? You don’t just have one good person, you have seven. I’m sure you have more than that, but-”

“It really is special, isn’t it?” He smiled to himself and shifted back onto his back.

“Yeah.”

“Sometimes when I’m really stressed, I go visit Minho. Every now and then, we’ll go to his parents’ house to see his cats. That’s my favorite way to ease anxiety.”

“If only you had a pet.”

He nodded in agreement and the two of you sat in silence again. Tangled in your own thoughts, your eyes went back to the spinning ceiling fan. You watched it spin around and around and around and-

“Holy shit!” You jerked upright with wide eyes. “Han Jisung, you idiot!”

“Huh?”

“You have a dog!”

“I have a dog?”

“Bbama!”

“Obama?” He echoed, feeling more confused. “The former president of the-” His eyebrows furrowed until he gasped and slammed a hand over his mouth. “Oh my god, I have a dog!” He shoved himself to his feet and grabbed your arm. “Come on, we gotta go visit Bbama!”

“Obama,” you mocked him as you followed.

He turned around and stuck his tongue out at you. Yours poked out and caused him to huff. “Shut up,” he finally grumbled. “So I forgot I had a dog! Sue me!”

“Bbama might.”

_ _ _

Felix:

“It’s not funny!” You childishly stomped your foot and placed your hands on your hips.

Across the way, there were tears in Felix’s eyes. The two of you had been posing in front of Hyunjin’s camera and trying to take cute photos together. The last one came out with your eyes in two different directions and half-closed.

Hyunjin was trying not to laugh, for your sake, but Felix was losing it. For the past two minutes, he’d been on the ground with a hand on his stomach. Just when he thought he composed himself, laughter broke back out.

“Baby, p-please,” he weakly uttered. “I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean to-” His words cut off with more laughter.

You didn’t want to do this because of this reason. The two of you were supposed to go official with your relationship and you wanted a cute photo to announce it on Instagram. Hyunjin offered to take it, but none of them were coming out right.

You were anxious, worried that the photos would all come out ugly, and here you were actually living that scenario. Your cheeks were red with humiliation, but it didn’t seem to bother Felix. He was still cracking into fits of giggles.

“It’s not funny,” you mumbled again, feeling more and more miserable. “I told you this was a bad idea.”

Felix shook his head and blonde tendrils went flying. “No, i-it wasn’t a bad idea. This was the best idea. I just wasn’t expecting that angle. It was one poor photo and-”

“It feels like every photo has been a poor photo. I’m not doing it right. I don’t know how to pose like you do. I’m not used to-”

“Hey,” he shoved himself off the ground, “it’s okay, really.”

“No, it’s not. You keep laughing at me. I feel like we’re wasting Hyunjin’s time. So much of his time that he just disappeared to go find a snack while we recouped.”

“Hyunjin is a growing man. You couldn’t help that if you wanted to. I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, I just-” He reached forward and gently cupped your cheeks. “I love you so much, you don’t understand it.”

“I don’t like being laughed at, even if it’s just a silly photo. I’m always afraid that-”

His head shook. “I’m not laughing at you. I mean, I am, but I’m laughing at the pose you ended up in. Think about it. Wouldn’t you laugh if Hyunjin snapped a photo of me in that same pose?”

“I guess.” He narrowed his eyebrows at you. “Okay, I guess if the roles were reversed, I’d probably laugh a lot. I look like an idiot.”

“Exactly.” He pressed on your cheeks and caused your lips to press together. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I love you so much.”

Your cheeks went red and your lips grew into a smile. He grinned and leaned forward and then-

Flash!

Felix jerked away with a groan and you blinked rapidly, trying to gain your vision back. His hands went up to rub his eyes. “Hyunjin?”

“I got it! This is the perfect photo! Oh, you guys are just so cute!” He squealed as he stared at the screen on his camera. “That speech? Disgustingly cute. This photo? Fan wars are going to be caused.”

“Hyunjin,” Felix warned.

“What? I’m just saying.” He shrugged and spun the lens towards the two of you. “What do you think?”

As you stared at the photo of Felix’s twinkling eyes, a smile on his face, and your own blushing smile; you knew he was right, it was perfect. _ _ _

Seungmin:

“And this.” Seungmin grabbed an item from the shelf and placed it in the grocery cart. “And this. One of these,” he picked up two more items and dropped them into the cart. “Three of these and-”

Your arms curled around yourself tighter. To Seungmin, grocery shopping was a necessity. To you? It was, but specifically, when the store wasn’t thriving with customers. Showing up around five on a Friday evening was the worst thing you agreed to do.

Seungmin had the list and he was carefully marking items off one-by-one. You were behind him and stressed out. The moment you walked into the store beside him, you swore you could feel the pulsing and stressful energy of the crowd.

People were rushing in and out of the aisles. Some were getting pushy while waiting for their turn to look at a specific product. Seungmin didn’t seem to mind the chaos. Maybe he did and he just tuned it out somehow, but you? You didn’t work like that.

You were feeling stressed and wanting to cry. More and more people were slowly entering the front of the aisle that you just came down. You swore you could feel the annoyance of some. It didn’t help that Seungmin kept stopping every few feet to check off an item and calculate the prices of everything.

“Seungmin?” You spoke up nervously as you glanced over your shoulder.

“Hm?”

“Can we please leave this aisle?”

“Hold on, let me add these two numbers together.”

You sighed, but continued waiting. Your brain screamed and begged you to get out of the aisle, but you stayed close to Seungmin. You shut your eyes to focus on your irregular breaths and when you opened them a few moments later, Seungmin was gone.

Your eyes widened and you stepped forward, but before you got far, a cart hurried past you. You jumped, side-stepping, and trying to get out of the way as a random woman sped by. Your hands curled into fists and you pressed yourself against the colorful cereal boxes, trying to make yourself smaller and take up less space.

Out of the aisle, you glanced around, but Seungmin was missing. Cursing beneath your breath, you hurried to the next aisle and glanced down at it, only to find it void of the light blue hoodie he was wearing.

You searched and the more you searched, the more your anxiety grew. The overhead lights were too white and too bright. The chattering of people grew louder and louder. Your own heartbeat hammered against your ears.

A lump built in your throat, but you forced yourself to swallow it. You hated crowds; you hated the congestion of people, and more importantly, you hated that feeling of suffocation that sat upon the top of your chest. It compressed your lungs and made breathing barely operable.

Blinking rapidly, you tried to focus on the task at hand. Walking around felt nearly impossible. Too many people had carts and weren’t paying attention. Someone was texting and another one was making a phone call. Someone else stopped in the middle of an aisle and pressed buttons on their phone.

“Excuse me,” you uttered as you walked around them.

You squeezed your eyes shut at the huff that left their mouth. “Some people have no manners,” they grumbled. Unaware that they did anything wrong, they hurried away, only to stop in front of the opening of another aisle to pull out their phone again.

You wandered around again, trying to find Seungmin, but to no avail. Your hand reached into your back pocket to grab your phone. Just as you considered talking to him, you pulled your hand away from your phone. He shut his phone off at the beginning of the trip, not wanting to be interrupted.

Frustrated and too upset to function, you checked a few more aisles, but you couldn’t find him. You began to head towards the door, assuming you’d just wait in the car until he got back. You walked and walked and walked until a car bumped into the back of your ass.

You wheeled around and there stood Seungmin. His grin fell when he took in your teary eyes. “Hey, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

“There’s too many people. I couldn’t find you and I’m so overstimulated. I thought you were a stranger and I just-”

“Breathe,” he reminded you as he stepped out from behind the cart. “I’m sorry. I thought you were behind me when I left the cereal aisle. I turned around and you were gone. I was grabbing items in another aisle and I figured you’d find me. I didn’t think-”

“It’s not your fault. I can’t help my social anxiety, it’s just so busy. Some woman was so rude to me. I just want to go wait outside. I feel overwhelmed and it’s becoming a struggle to breathe.”

“Do you want me to go with-”

Your head shook. “Finish shopping and I’ll wait for you in the car. I’m sorry, I wanted to help you, but-”

“Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault. I should have considered how busy the store is at this time of the night. You go to the car and I’ll be there as soon as I can, okay?”

“I love you.”

Not caring that he was in the middle of the store, he leaned up, grabbed your cheeks, and pressed his lips against yours in a soft kiss. A sweet unexpected gesture that tasted like spearmint and your salted tears.

“I love you too. Now get out of my store,” he grinned. “No adult supervision. I’m going to get dino nuggets.”

_ _ _

Jeongin:

Jeongin had seen a lot of stupidity over the years. He saw it in his fellow idol members. He saw it blatantly stamped all over the idol industry. It was rare that the stupidity came from you, but today was different.

He shielded the top of his head with his arm to block the rain from his vision. The keys jingled in his hand and his shoe squeaked on the entry to your shared home. He grumbled and ripped off his damp coat.

The rain hadn’t stopped pouring for what seemed like hours. A constant downpour that was steadily sprinkled with thunder and lightning. Earlier, the power to his company’s building went down after lightning struck a nearby power cord. He finished the rest of his schedule via a backup generator.

He kicked off his shoes and called your name. He expected you to be taking a nap. On certain evenings, you did. Some days, you stayed up late, came home, and indulged in a few hour nap. He grew used to the routine, but you weren’t on the couch.

He headed to your shared room and, to his surprise, you weren’t there either. You had to be home, he knew that. Your phone was there on the nightstand and face down. Your shoes, he put his own right next to them.

He called your name, but you didn't respond. Just as he was about to call your name again, there was a flash. Through the glass sliding door, the balcony lit up and there you were. Squatting on the ground, huddled around yourself, and soaking wet, you sat in a small ball.

His eyes widened and he rushed forward. He tugged on the balcony door, only to find it locked. He cursed, flipped the lock, and swung the door open. “What are you doing out here? Get inside now!” He called out over the loud sound of heavy rain.

Your eyes half-opened at the sound of your name. You glanced over to find a worried Jeongin. He grabbed your forearm and tugged your dripping and shivering body back inside. His eyes scanned you up and down.

“What happened to you? What did you do? Why were you locked on the balcony?”

“I was anxious,” you mumbled. “I went out to get fresh air and I must have slammed the door shut too hard and the lock flipped. When I went out, it wasn’t raining.”

“But it’s been raining for hours!”

“Has it? I just woke up freezing cold a few minutes ago, I think. It’s not too bad after you get used to being soaked.”

He sighed and grabbed the end of your shirt. “Arms up.”

You didn’t fight him tugging off your shirt. “You’re such an idiot,” he mumbled. “You’re going to catch a cold by wearing these soaking wet clothes. You’re going to wake up with a fever and sniffles.”

“On the bright side of things, I don’t feel anxious anymore.”

“Because you’re too cold to feel it.” He sighed and grabbed the warmest blanket he could find. “From now on, if you go out onto the balcony when I’m gone, crack the door.”

“Okay.”

“What were you anxious about, anyway?”

“I don’t know. I’m too cold to remember, but this blanket is so warm. Have I ever told you I love you?”

“Sometimes I think I should reconsider my offer.”

“That’s not nice.”

“You can’t tell me you don’t feel the same way at certain times.”

“Only when you wear ugly shoes.”

| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |

Taglist: @lia-linny @seungnishi @stellasays45 @emilyywhyy @rockstarkkami @flightlessackerman @danihwang882 @inlovewithstraykids

Masterlist

Taglist and inbox rules

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galaxy-stardust · 17 hours ago

Text

Simon Ghost Riley x you

He calls you... 📞

You were lying in bed, scrolling mindlessly on your phone when it buzzed with an incoming call. Simon’s name flashed on the screen, and a smile crept across your lips as you answered.

“Hey,” you said softly, your voice carrying a hint of sleepiness.

“Miss me?” His deep, gravelly voice came through the line, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Always,” you replied, a small laugh escaping you. “Why are you calling so late?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” he murmured. “Been thinking about you.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the way his words lingered, slow and deliberate. You shifted on the bed, suddenly feeling warm. “Oh yeah? What about me?”

A low chuckle rumbled through the phone. “Everything. The way you look at me when you’re pretending to be mad, the sound you make when I kiss that spot just under your ear," he finished, his voice dropping lower, sending a jolt of heat through you.

You swallowed, your fingers clutching the edge of the blanket. “Simon…”

“Hmm?” he drawled, the teasing lilt in his voice making it impossible to focus. “You can hear it, can’t you? My lips on your skin. The way your breath hitches when I trail my mouth lower, when my hands grip your hips, holding you right where I want you.”

Your heart raced, and you bit your lip, feeling the heat pooling in your stomach. “You’re impossible,” you whispered, though there was no denying the flush spreading across your cheeks.

“And yet, you’re still listening,” he countered smoothly. “Tell me, love… what are you wearing?”

You hesitated, your breath catching. “Simon, I—”

“Tell me,” he interrupted, his voice firm yet coaxing, the dominance in his tone impossible to ignore.

You exhaled shakily. “A tank top and… nothing else.”

He groaned softly, the sound dark and full of need. “Perfect. Now, do me a favor.”

“What?” you asked, your voice barely audible.

“Slide your hand under that tank top. Slowly. I want you to touch yourself like I would. Let me hear you, love.”

Your body obeyed before your mind could catch up, your fingers brushing against your skin, sending a shiver through you. “Simon…”

“That’s it,” he murmured. “Close your eyes. Imagine me there, my hands instead of yours. My mouth on you, making you tremble. I want you to feel every word I say.”

You bit your lip to stifle a whimper, your breathing uneven as his voice wrapped around you like a warm, intoxicating haze. “You’re not playing fair,” you managed to say.

“I never do,” he replied, his tone dripping with possessiveness. “You’re mine, love. All mine. And I want to hear you say it.”

“I’m yours,” you whispered, your voice trembling with need.

“Good girl,” he growled, his words sending a delicious ache through you. “Now keep going. I want to know every sound you make when you come undone for me.”

And as the night stretched on, his deep, commanding voice was all you needed to push you over the edge, leaving you breathless and craving him even more.

#cod #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you

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writing-whenever-whatever · 3 days ago

Text

Little song bird-we will create and nurture a new Rome

Geta x reader x Caracalla

Part 1 part2 part3 part 4 part 5

Summary: after getting home you and geta soon get into a slight conflict hurtful things are said and you end up upset but will he ever apologise

Warnings : argument, injury, talk of abuse, apologies, mansplaining, sweet Caracalla , slight threat.

———————————————————————

Once I’m bathed and clean I’m sat in my bed chamber in only a towel as the healer sits tending the gash in my thigh using different ointments and oils to clean it,

“ you must be careful when doing such reckless things my lady” he lectures his voice holding priority as he looks at me “ you could have seriously hurt yourself “ he adds on as I look at him” tis only a cut I see no damage done “ I scoff looking down at the man “ I do not need lectures to understand what I should and shouldn’t do” I smile slightly looking at the man who bandages my leg.

“ you needn’t bother “ my hand landing to rest on top of his stopping him from wrapping my leg up any tighter “ it’s not even bleeding anymore “ I reassure him as he looks at me “ you’re a wild woman empress, you’ll be well suited at the emperors sides” he smiles up at me just as the doors open both brothers walking in “ ah ,your leg how is it” Geta asks meeting my bed side “ it is fine” I smile as he rests a tender hand on my shoulder “ its only a small tear in the flesh it’ll heal quickly and leave a small scar” the healer adds not looking up at the emperors as he talks “ good nothing to serious” Caracalla chuckles as he lays next to me on my bed

his head tilting to look down at me “ you should be more careful “ he scolds playfully tapping my cheek with each syllable a grin beaming down at me as Geta pulls my chin to look at me “ he’s right you know “ his eyebrows furrow slightly tone more serious

“what if he attacked you after you did such a delusional thing” he looks at me my head moves to look downwards “ but he didn’t” I mumble “ song bird” geta pulls my attention back up to him his voice stern “ I’m not sure what they do at your place of birth but here ladies don’t start fights “ I grit my teeth at this “ don’t bring my birth place into this” I look at him “ and maybe if women put more of fight up there’d be less cases of ladies being attacked and defiled in Rome. I will not fall a victim just because I’m told I should be a lady” I pull my head away from him “ is this what your pathetic little meeting was about, trying to bring me down to reality well if you want a perfect little Roman wife then go a head and find one because you will not find her in me” I stand up glaring at Geta as I push past him and walk out of my bedchambers

“ that’s not what I meant , darling come back” Geta yells out just to be ignored by me as I walk into the private gardens sitting under a gathering of trees hidden from the windows that stare down at the gardens I can’t help but pull my knees up to my chest

Talking to myself “ if they wish to love me so much they’ll have to learn my ways I will not be pushed around “ I mumble to myself

I stay sat there in the gardens for hours the sun has gone down and the air has a bitter chill I’m still only wrapped in a towel from my bath and I’ve started to feel exhausted, my head resting back on the tree as my eyes flutter shut feeling so heavy I can’t help but give in to sleep, as I drift off I feel strong arms wrap around me and lift me up off the floor carrying me back inside the clinking of armour hitting the floor with each step “ I found her emperors” a gruff voice states “ take her to her chamber let her rest but keep her room heavily guarded we don’t want our song bird flying away” geta looks at me a stern look on his face as he runs his hand over my relaxed cheek “ why must you make things difficult “ he whispers under his breath before placing a kiss on my forehead then the guard carries me back to my bed chamber laying me back on the bed and pulling the blankets over me tucking me in.

———————————————————————

When I wake up I’m curled up in the centre of the bed I pull the covers over my head trying to block out the sun that pours in through the window. I haven’t forgotten what happened last night every time I think about it my heart sinks in my chest making me feel sick, but I’m not gonna back down he was in the wrong.

I stay laying in bed even when my maids come rushing into my room I roll onto my side ignoring them “ my lady it’s time to get up” she speaks to mr her voice trying to be gentle “ I’m not getting up today I’m staying here” I mumble quietly “ leave me “ I order as they stand in their place watching as I just lay there “ are you not feeling well my lady” she asks “ I’m fine just go” I look at them a stern look in my eyes as they quickly rush out.

———————————————————————

My key maid rushes to getas room where both emperors are sat discussing over wine and breakfast she knocks on the door waiting patiently “ enter” Geta calls out turning to see her as she enters the room “ emperors I’m afraid the empress is refusing to get up she doesn’t wish to be disturbed” she looks down bowing her head “ we will come see her soon till then just let her rest” Geta sighs turning back to Caracalla “ gods she’s stubborn “ he grunts taking a swig from his cup “ you were harsh on her last night” Caracalla looks at him as getas eyebrows furrow “ how I simply stated facts” he takes a sip of wine “ you spoke of her heritage as if she was a barbarian brother” he moves forward “ you upset her” he gets up “ i will go see her with dundus, she seems to cheer her up” he looks at Geta “ go ahead I will join you later” he states looking at his brother “ perhaps this time alone for her will make her realise the severity of her unladylike actions” Geta goes on making Caracalla role his eyes “ Oh please, the only reason you say such things is because of the senators in that boring meeting after we got home told you she needed to change. but deep down you know she really doesn’t it’s Rome that needs change” he walks out the room leaving Geta to think alone.

———————————————————————

The door to my room cracks open as Caracalla peaks through “ my love are you awake” he questions looking at my sprawled out body on the bed he steps in dundus sat on his shoulder “ I brought someone to see you” he leans on the end of the bed looking over me as I lay silently not responding “ I know you’re upset I’m sorry for what Geta said I have talked to him but he is stubborn” I peak up at Caracalla “ I’m a savage compared to your Roman ladies, that is what he thinks” I mumble quietly “ not at all my love “ he lets dundus crawl up curling up next to me burning her small head into the crook of my neck “ Geta listens to the senators to much “ Caracalla explains looking at me “ darling understand your outburst yesterday and I thought it was one of the most beautiful things ive ever seen” he moves laying next to me his hand running along my cheek “ it’s ok to have outburst “ he looks at me “ trust me i know from personal experiences “ he smiles pulling me into his arms gently “ you seem to be the only one to understand that” I mumble quietly resting my head on his chest as Caracalla runs his hand through my hair “ geta knows it but he just needs time for his reasoning to kick back in and for him to block out the mind fucking the senate gave him” he holds me gently letting me stay close to him listening to his rapid heart rate as dundus chirps for attention climbing over to Caracallas shoulder where she rests her self

A few hours pass of me and caracalla laying together talking as the door cracks open and geta walks in “ song bird ” his voice quiet as he walks towards the bed looking at me snuggled in his brothers arms “ listen i did not mean what i said last night but you do need to be more careful of your actions” i peak up at him slightly “ acting so impulsively can get you in danger and i only want you safe” I sit up “ ok i admitted my actions were wrong back in the chariot after they happened “ i look at him “ then you started on me later that evening so i think you owe me an apology “ i raise a stern eye brow as he sighs “ that is what I am trying to do “ he states looking at me “ good”

i look at him waiting to hear the word sorry to spill from his lips but he seems to leave me waiting “a good emperor knows when to admit his wrongs perhaps you aren’t as good as i thought you were” I sigh shaking my head as Geta stares at me shocked “ how dare y..” I cut him off quickly “ there we’ve both said something hurtful, maybe this can be over” I let a loose laugh fall looking at him “ fine” he looks at me “ I’m sorry” he huffs moving to my side of the bed

“ see wasn’t that hard” I watch him roll his eyes before joining both me and Caracalla laying on the bed “ I’ve cancelled all our duties for today perhaps we could go for a walk or perhaps we can just stay right here” Geta looks at me as he runs his thumb down my jaw “ perhaps “ I smile at him as I snuggle between both emperors getting comfortable. I look at both men a small smile on my face “ all couples have arguments, it’ll just help us learn how to understand each other more” I rest my head back on the pillow “ tis only a few days till the wedding, so it’s best we learn as much as possible “ I suggest my voice coming out with a deep sigh Geta looks at me “ I don’t wish to argue “ he looks at me “if you want to know something just ask “ Caracalla adds his hand reaching out mine his fingers entangling with mine

As the day goes on we lay together talking getting to know each other deeper than before. I learn about how their father was abusive he refused to interact with the boys other than putting them against each other making them fight till one was passed out on the floor the only time he suggested they worked together was on his death bed. Then their mother a sweet woman who loved her boys would tend to them when keeping them safe against their fathers wrath they were devastated when she passed from an unknown illness she slowly faded away in front of the boys eyes.

How I wish I could have met their mother she sounded like a loving woman, she sounded like the perfect Roman wife who provided everything a family needed love, understanding and boundaries she knew how to calm her children and her husband she knew everything but some how I question if I’m expected to be like that.

As both Geta and Caracalla were already very aware of my home life, how I was treated by my father and his men so I told them other things. They learn that I could play the harp that id sit during dinners at home playing my harp non stop plucking the strings entertaining others as they ate and talked. I also told them about my love for animals that at home I had dogs they were more wild than the ones that lived in Rome but I trained them, fed them spoke to them, loved them even. but I was forced to leave them behind as my father refused to let me take them with me to Rome.

“ is there anything you can’t do” Caracalla smirks staring off into the distance “ your like a goddess sent down just for us” he runs his hand over my thigh “don’t be silly there are many things I can not do” I giggle sweetly “ like what” gets asks looking at me his eye brow raised “ you can play instruments, speak perfect Latin, your good with a blade, you are kind to the public, good with animals. what can’t you do” he looks at me “ I can not read” I look down slightly “ there was never a need to at home, but I would always try and just seemed to fail” I sigh as both emperors look at each other exchanging a glance “ there isn’t a need for you to read my love, we shall read to you” Caracallas voice is gentle as he holds me his hand striking my cheek “ thank you” I blush as I close my eyes feeling the safety around me “ I will always try my best to be a good wife, I apologise if I fail” I yawn quietly pulling my blankets back over me “ you’ll never fail us my love” geta reassures sweetly

“ but do not run away again or we may have to clip your wings” he adds his voice more serious as he plays with my hair, I open my eyes again looking at him slightly concerned “ hush now do not worry” Caracalla cooed quietly as he looks down at me Geta kisses the back of my neck his nose resting against my shoulder trying to sooth my anxiety and distract me from his warning “ you’ll be perfect” he mutters his voice vibrating against my skin causing goose bumps to form “ Rome will adapt to your ways, we will create and nurture a new Rome” Caracalla looks at me a grin beaming in his face I blush violently as I burry my face into his shoulder his hands lace into my hair holding me close pulling me away from Geta and for filling his selfish need to have me to himself, as Geta reaches out to touch me again Caracallas eyes fog over with a warning look he holds me possessively my head against his bare chest. I can hear his soothing heart beat ringing through my ears calming me completely with out me even realising the sound soon has me drifting back into a reassuring sleep.

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tag list

@marsmallow433 @fionaapplelover2010

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ragingbookdragon · 17 hours ago

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“You know,” she started, watching the oil flame flicker in the lantern. “When you said you wanted to go camping, I thought you meant like…a cabin on a lake. You know, glamping.”

Tyler chuckled as he adjusted the length of the wick in the lantern. “Where’s the fun in staying in a cabin when you can sleep under the stars in a tent.”

“Well, my back would appreciate a bed,” she replied sarcastically.

“Laying on flat ground actually alleviates back pain and also helps blood circulation.”

“You’re just a plethora of knowledge when it comes to proving a point, aren’t you?”

He smiled as the flame flickered lowly and he laid back down pulling the blanket up to his chest as he rested his head on his arm. “You’re having a good time,” he said. “You know you are.”

“It’s possible,” she retorted, inching closer to him; he shifted his other arm, wrapping it around her waist.

“Hmm…possible?” Tyler mused. “After I made you a steak and potatoes in a cast iron skillet and then helped you roast marshmallows and chocolate covered strawberries?”

“Fine,” she said, wrapping her arm around his waist. “I’m having a good time. Being outside at night gives me the heebie jeebies though.”

“Why?” he snorted.

“Coyotes, wolves, bears, any wild animal that could eat me,” she deadpanned.

Tyler huffed humoredly through his nose and pulled her closer. “The truck is parked nearby, and I have a rifle with me. We’re fine.”

“Hmm…”

He turned his head, nuzzling her temple, gently pressing his lips to her skin. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you, darlin’. I’ll keep you safe, I promise.” He lowered his hand, trailing it up beneath his undershirt that she wore, fingers brushing against her warm skin. “And have I ever broken a promise to you?”

She smiled softly, cuddling close. “…no.”

Tyler nodded. “Because I keep ‘em.” He reached up, pulling the flap on top of the tent open, the stars blinking back at them. “Now, you look up at those pretty stars and wonder just how jealous they are of you.”

“Tyler,” she laughed, and he hummed.

“Prettier than any star to grace the face of this earth,” he murmured. “And I’m the lucky man who gets to hold her heart.”

She shifted her gaze to his face. “Tyler…”

He looked down at her, eyes soft and warm, voice gentle and full of love. “I love you.”

She swallowed, feeling her cheeks warm. “I love you too,” she whispered, and his fingers brushed up her skin again; she laid her head back down on his chest, listening to his heart beat beneath her ear. “Tyler?”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you for bringing me out here.”

“Anytime, darlin’,” he murmured.

#tyler owens x reader #tyler owens x reader imagines #tyler owens x reader imagine #tyler owens imagines #tyler owens imagine #tyler owens #twisters imagines #twisters imagine #twisters

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out-there-tmblr · 3 days ago

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Young Zaundads wip (38)

***

Most of the planning comes down to Silco. Funds in and funds out, captains they've given their word to, goods they'll be able to sell quickly (the cosmetics, the gas masks) and the alcohol that makes a better profit but takes longer to sell. The whole thing makes Vander's head hurt but Silco spends days rearranging estimates and carefully writing over his figures.

Silco trades a bottle of wine to the harbour master for an ink pen, but he spends more time staring at the forms each night than daring to write on them. He stores them carefully in the safe, locking it every night and insists Vander scrubs his hands if he wants to lay a finger on them.

"You have to be a Piltovan citizen in order to buy land," Silco says, chewing on his thumbnail and staring at the pages spread across the desk. "Technically, the undercity is part of Piltover but none of us have any papers that could prove citizenship."

"Do the forms ask for proof?"

"They ask for an address. I think 'abandoned shack in an old mine' might raise some concerns." Silco sighs and stretches back on the desk chair, arms above his head and head tilted back. "We could lie. Just pick a Piltover address and hope they never send paperwork there."

"Or steal the mail," Vander offers from the bed. It's an hour past curfew. If Silco doesn't come to bed soon, Vander's going to fall asleep in an empty bed. And then Silco will wake him up to complain there's no room left for him and make him move over. "Come to bed."

Silco grumbles under his breath but he carefully places the forms and the ink pen in the safe, and then locks it. He turns the lantern down low, and starts stripping by the faint yellow glow.

"We can't do that," Silco says, pulling his shirt over his head and folding it over the back of the desk chair. "We wouldn't know when the mail was coming. We can't afford to come over to Piltover each day just to steal mail."

Silco undresses by mindless habit, an easy routine. Vander still likes watching it, the steady reveal of pale skin. The narrow line of Silco's waist, the long lines of bare thighs as he steps out of his pants and drapes them over the chair as well. He pulls the tie from his hair, so his dark hair hangs free to his shoulders, swaying as he moves.

The last things Silco removes are the cotton bandages wrapped around his forearms. He keeps them there in case there's an accident in the mine, a burn from a fuse or a deep scratch that needs to be protected from the dirt in the air. If he isn't injured, he'll take them off each night, the last piece of armour he takes off.

Once he's completely bare, he comes to bed. Climbs into this little piece of Piltovan luxury, between soft sheets and cheap, thin blankets and kisses Vander. It starts as a goodnight peck but Silco lingers, lips warm and gentle fingers on Vander's cheek.

Vanders slides his hands around Silco's hips, thumbs brushing along the jut of hip bones, and Silco kisses him again, slower and wetter.

"Did you want to sleep?" Silco asks as if the answer isn't obvious.

"When have I have ever picked sleep over a little action?"

"I wouldn't want to keep you up," Silco teases, nipping at Vander's upper lip.

Vander rolls his hips against Silco, his cock pressed to warm, bare skin. "I'm already up," Vander says and Silco snorts at the bad joke.

They grind together as they kiss, as hands slide over skin, tracing all the places no one else gets to touch. When they're both breathing heavily, Silco pushes himself up with a hand on Vander's chest and reaches under the bed for that small bottle of oil.

"I want to try something new," he says, so it's not Vander's first assumption. Silco pours a little on to his hand and then carefully puts the bottle back on the floor. "Shove over for a moment. I want to lie on my back."

Vander shuffles to make room and watches as Silco spreads the oil across his inner thighs and then lies down, knees together. "Is this idea courtesy of Babette's?"

The tilt of Silco's chin gives away his slight embarrassment. "So what if it is? Come here."

Vander follows the light tug of Silco's hands, settles over Silco with his weight on his elbows, faces lined up so he can kiss him. "I've never heard of anyone researching fucking like you do."

"I'm not researching it. I'm not taking notes," Silco splutters. "A little friendly advice is practical."

"Too good to try and fail and figure it out like the rest of us?" Vander teases, pressing a string of kisses to the warm curve of Silco's cheek. There's something sweet about it, that Silco would suffer the embarrassment of asking about sex, all to impress Vander.

"Keep complaining and I won't show you." It's an empty threat, given the way Silco reaches down one slick hand for Vander's cock. Vander hears the rumbling groan he makes when Silco strokes him, firm and serious. "Anything else to say?"

"You are very clever," Vander says, dipping down for a kiss as Silco strokes him again, "and very pretty."

"Better." Silco guides Vander's cock between his thighs. It's not as hot, as tight as being inside him, but it's slick and warm and Vander can keep kissing Silco as he moves. Deep, hungry kisses that get messy and breathless, that become open-mouthed panting against skin as Silco works a hand between them. Vander can feel Silco's knuckles against his stomach as Silco jerks off, one hand on his cock and the other tangled in Vander's hair, holding him close.

Silco's a mess afterwards, stomach and thighs sticky and a dark love bite on his shoulder that Vander barely remembers making. Vander decides to be gracious and fetches a damp cloth.

Silco pulls a face as he wipes himself down, but that's probably for the chill of the cold water. After cleaning himself, Vander rinses the cloth out, wringing it and putting it over the bowl to dry.

Silco moves over against the wall, leaving space for Vander to get in. He likes Silco like this: all those sharp edges softened, smooth like a river rock.

"I was only teasing, you know," Vander says, lying on his side and resting an arm across Silco's chest. "About the research."

"I know," he says, but there's something in Silco's tone, like he's thinking something and doesn't want to.

"What is it?"

Silco traces over the back of Vander's hand, over ridges of knuckles and faded, fine scars from bar brawls. "Life used to be simple. Before you. I didn't want to die here. That was it. Just survive and get out."

Vander slides his head closer on the pillow, enough to lean his forehead on Silco's shoulder.

"I was too angry to let them kill me," Silco says, and a little of that broiling anger seeps into his tone.

Vander soothes him, his hand brushing Silco's side. "And now?"

"It's not enough. It's not enough to get out just to die somewhere else. I can't drag you out of the mine with nowhere to go. Just to starve on the streets until we choke on the Grey? You'd be better off here."

"It's not all on you," Vander says gently, pressing a kiss to whatever bare skin he can reach without moving. "We could leave together. Work for a trader."

"And watch you be seasick? You'd hate it."

Vander hums. He can't really argue that.

"I keep thinking there's… more," Silco says slowly, like he's considering each word before he says it. "There's a chance here, there has to be, but I can't quite see it. All I can see are locked doors, and every time I find a key and force it open, there's just another locked door behind it. And another. It would be easier just to give up."

"For anyone else, maybe," Vander allows. He can't imagine Silco without his driving ambition, his desperate urgent desire to achieve something. "Giving up might kill you."

Silco falls silent but his fingers keep grazing over Vander's hand. It's a soft and delicate touch in a place that tries to grind those things out of everyone. Closing his eyes, Silco says, "There were rumours, in the Foundling home, stories the older children would tell us. That when the benefactors came to visit, that sometimes, very rarely, they'd adopt someone and take them back to Piltover."

"Only the smartest, the most well-behaved, so we were all well-behaved when they visited in all their topsider finery," Silco says bitterly. "It never happened, of course. They sometimes brought sweets or ribbons, stuffed toys for the youngest ones, but none of us ever got whisked away to a life of plenty."

Vander can't help thinking of Silco's manners, his careful note taking and his love of reading. The little traits that allow Silco to talk to those Piltie engineers without them being uncomfortable.

"What if this is the same?" Silco asks, the words hushed in the dim room. "What if leaving the mine is just another naive, childish dream?"

It's hard to know what to say. Vander's never heard Silco admit doubt. Doubt in his ability to outsmart the system, to create his own way out. There should be something kind that Vander can say, something encouraging. Something that could make SIlco see himself the way Vander sees him: driven and indomitable, as strong and brave as anyone Vander's ever met.

Vander knows he should say something, but… As hard as he thinks, he can't find the words. "What about the land?" he says instead. "That would have an address, right?"

Silco turns, looking at him. Those pretty blue eyes blink, brows rising as he thinks. "For the form?"

"Yeah."

"That might work. They wouldn't send any mail here but it makes a certain amount of sense."

"See? We'll get there. We'll just pick one locked door at a time."

***

#zaundads #my current wip #huh. I posted this on my laptop rather than my phone and the spacing came out differently (single vs double paragraph breaks)

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sreidx-hotchner · 15 hours ago

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Late Night Tough case S.R

Summary This is the third time Spencer caught you trying to stay up for him he thought it was sweet.

Paring fem!reader Spencer Reid

Content comfort/fluff

Content warning nothing really

Word count 500

Author notes I had not written anything for my Spencer pookie in said it’s about time for a comfort fluff moment I miss writing for Spencer , I wish he Hug me like that . Enjoy this short piece.

Spencer had just gotten home from a long, grueling case. It was late—well past midnight—when he finally unlocked the door to your shared apartment.

Exhaustion weighed on him like a heavy coat, but as soon as he stepped inside, his eyes softened at the sight before him.

You had been texting Garcia throughout the day, making sure the team was okay, but despite your best efforts to stay awake for Spencer, sleep had won.

You were curled up on the couch, a small ball of warmth wrapped in a cozy blanket, your phone resting loosely in your hand. Spencer sighed quietly as he shut the door with care, wincing at the soft click.

Not again, he thought. It made his heart ache knowing you always tried to wait up for him, even though he never wanted you to lose sleep over him.

But he also knew why you did it—you loved being there when he got home, loved greeting him after the hardest cases. And this one had been particularly brutal.

He walked over, kneeling down beside you, his fingers brushing a few loose strands of hair from your face. "Hey, beautiful angel," he murmured, his voice low and gentle. "I'm home." He leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.

Your eyes fluttered open, still hazy with sleep. "Spence… you're home," you whispered, blinking up at him.

You reached out, your fingers brushing over his cheek as if you needed to feel him, to make sure he was really there. "You're here. You're okay."

He exhaled deeply, the weight of the day finally settling in. "I'm exhausted," he admitted.

You gave him a sleepy smile, stretching slightly under the blanket. "I'm sure you are too," he murmured, "Come on, let’s get ready for bed. A nice warm shower will help."

As you moved to stand, something in your chest tightened—an ache, a longing that you couldn’t ignore.

Before he could pull away, you reached for his wrist, your fingers wrapping around him gently. "Spence, wait," you pleaded softly.

He paused, concern flickering across his tired features. "What is it?"

You swallowed, your voice barely above a whisper. "I just… I just need a minute. To appreciate that you're here. Please," you looked up at him, your eyes glistening, "will you just hold me?"

Spencer didn’t hesitate. His arms wrapped around you tightly, pulling you into his chest, his warmth melting into yours. He pressed another kiss to the top of your head, his fingers rubbing slow, soothing circles against your back.

"I'm here," he whispered, his breath warm against your hair. "And I'm not going anywhere."

#criminal minds #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #doctor spencer reid #fluff Spencer Reid #i love spencer reid #i love how spencer comforts reader #I thought about reader just trying her best to stay up #my wriitng #spencer reid fem!reader #spencer reid comfort #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid fics

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marshmallow-castle · 6 months ago

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😪

#guess whose sleepy ☺️#I’m tired lol #I got a little sleep last night #the coffee ain’t hitting #I just want to wrap up in my blanket and sleep #selfie #s e l f I e #me #my face #black tumblr

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nopeleavemealoone · 22 days ago

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Never noticing when you’re being seen

#Ivantill #alnst #alien stage #ivan alnst #till alnst #ivan #till #It’s the way that they never really realized how much the other one cherished them #Thank you for being the victim of my shallow emotions #Hatred is easier than a word as vague as love #I just want to hold them. I want to wrap them up in a nest of blankets and pillows and let them sleep for as long as they need #Until they might be okay again #The things you do to my little brain ivantill… vivinos when i get you… when i get you vivinos…

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howtotrainyouragents · 1 year ago

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Me, like I'm sitting at a cafe in a French philosophical film: Luffy, he kisses the homies good night, you know? He cuddles the bros to sleep

#i just wanted to post my cuddle hcs #he takes turns cuddling the bros #he is the little spoon with nami #he sleeps on top of zoro cuddled into his chest #he and usopp sleep face to face limbs wrapped around each other securely #arms thrown around sanji's waist #or snuggled by his side pining his arm (depending on how much he annoyed sanji that day)#i will continue as I watch more #op #one piece #headcanon accepted #agent h #agent report #if it's naps chopper sleeps on his chest #but at night they're holding hands from their respective bunks #he curls into robin's side like a puppy #esp when she's reading. he'll be asleep with his head in her lap #or if she's laying on her stomach reading he's leaning on her back #tucked into the crook of Franky's elbow using his arm as a blanket #he’s big spoon with Brook #and sleeps on Jinbei’s stomach limbs spread out #so sometimes his arm cuts off Jinbei’s airway and he wakes up #but he can’t get annoyed bc he thinks his captain is so cute #they have a schedule bc yes they will fight over who gets the captain #and brook plays dirty (I’ve been alone for 50 years! and Luffy starts crying for him)

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rapidhighway · 2 years ago

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I didn’t go to sculpture again……

#please please please I have anxiety I have a mental illness #I can’t make myself go there it’s hell idk why I’m just so nervous every time I make myself feel sick #and then I get another excuse not to go becuase I literally feel like I’m gonna throw up #I’m not going to pass if I don’t start going there…….#and I cannot handle repeating a semester #I live in fear #and it doesn’t help that I have intermedia class later today which is my second greatest enemy and just as dreadful #banging head on the table #I need to be wrapped in a blanket and go to sleep forever #god even if I go there I’m never going to be able to come up to my prof and talk to him about my project I get physically I’ll at the #slightest suggestion from my friends that I should finally do it #everyone’s done it already #I will literally cry if anyone talks to me #the profs just intimidate me so badly I feel like they hate me #and everyone says they’re super nice but I can’t make myself believe ittttt they will eat me alive #but if I never go I won’t pass the class and repeating the semester will cost money #pleas I have the stupid project idea ready but I just can’t do it I’ve thought about just emailing them and doing it all through email but #I couldn’t do that either I’m just in panic mode instantly #so yeah I’m just venting not asking ppl for solutions 😶✌️ I just don’t want to text my friend again bc I’ve been putting way too much on #them #they do practically everything for me anyway bc I can’t do shit by myself #uh ok I just need to put this SOMEWHERE #I’m gonna curl up and draw metal or whatever #ugh I know I’m making things worse by not coming #but I can’t make myself I just cant I’m gonna have an anxiety attack ✌️#no one look at me #I being sensitive and vulnerable here

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binch-i-might-be · 5 months ago

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just saw a tiktok of an american saying it's weird how in germany a double bed has two separate mattresses and duvets to which I would like to counter: what kind of fucked in the head lunatic WANTS to share ONE MASSIVE DUVET with a SECOND LIVE PERSON ?

#i will concede on the mattress thing because like The Crack is lowkey annoying but only if you're sleeping alone #in which case you can get whatever mattress you desire that fits into your frame #what if you're a couple and one of you wants a firm mattress and the other a soft one???? do you just fucking die?#well in mother germany we just EACH BUY OUR OWN DESIRED MATTRESSES LIKE CIVILISED PEOPLE #and don't get me started on sharing ONE BIG DUVET. i would immediately kill the other person just to prevail over it #i'm not sharing s fucking blanket with you i need to wrap my whole body up until no air touches me anywhere #and if you disturb me i am sleeping on the fucking couch #horrible idea!!!!#rayrambles

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khioneee · 2 months ago

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tap out. pt ii.

warnings. mentions of death, emotional distress, grief and loss, pregnancy.

a few years later, another tap-out ceremony arrives, but this time, the air feels different—heavier, somber. simon’s been gone for over a year, his deployment unexpectedly extended due to an incident overseas. you’d been told he couldn’t come home for a while, but that didn’t make the waiting any easier.

today, you stand among families who aren’t just here to tap out their loved ones but to say goodbye to those who didn’t make it home. tears stream down faces as loved ones gather around caskets, grieving the soldiers they’d lost. the sight fills you with a mix of dread and relief, knowing simon is still out there, waiting.

simon stands in formation, rigid as always, but he has a sense for you. before you even appear in his line of sight, he knows you’re near. but imagine his surprise when he catches a glimpse of you in his peripheral vision, a small bundle wrapped securely in your arms.

his heart hammers in his chest, quickening as he realizes what this means. his breath catches, his eyes fixed on you as you approach. you look up at him, your eyes sparkling, a knowing smile on your face as you watch the subtle changes in his expression—the slight twitch of his eyebrows, the way his breathing picks up as it dawns on him.

both of you had been trying for a baby before he left, and now, standing before him, you hold that precious life in your arms. it had been a struggle going through pregnancy without him, feeling his absence during every kick and every sleepless night. but seeing him now, looking more than ready to meet your child, all the pain fades away, replaced by a joy so profound it fills every inch of you.

‘daddy’s home,’ you whisper softly, tilting the blanket so simon can see her tiny face, fast asleep, a perfect mirror of him in miniature. she’s got his nose, his quiet strength already etched into her tiny features.

with tears in your eyes, you reach up, your hand finding his cheek, tapping him out in the gentlest of touches.

the moment your hand connects, simon moves, breaking formation as he pulls both of you into his arms, holding you close as if he’ll never let go. his voice is thick with emotion, barely a whisper as he murmurs, ‘my loves.’

you knew your husband had a reputation in the military—a man as cold and unyielding as steel, a fortress no one could break. but as he held you and your newborn in his arms, that carefully built facade cracked, revealing a vulnerable side of him that only you ever saw. the tough soldier was gone, replaced by a man whose heart lay entirely with his family.

‘do you want to hold her?’ you ask softly, watching his eyes light up with a blend of surprise and joy.

‘her?’ he whispers, voice catching on the single word, as if it’s almost too much for him to believe.

you nod, smiling through a haze of happy tears. ‘her.’

with slow, reverent movements, you pass your daughter to him, watching as she looks impossibly tiny cradled in his strong arms. simon looks down at her with a mixture of wonder and fierce protectiveness, as though he’s already memorizing every detail of her face.

as if sensing her father’s gaze, the baby yawns, a soft little sound that makes simon’s eyes shine with awe. you catch the faintest smile pulling at his lips, a rare, tender expression that he reserves only for moments like this.

he leans down, pressing his lips gently to her forehead. ‘never gonna let anything happen to you,’ he murmurs, voice thick with love and quiet promise.

while simon was lost in his quiet moment with your daughter, a loud shout cut through the air, breaking the peaceful silence.

‘is that our baby i see?!’

simon’s head snapped up, his expression immediately shifting to something harder. he turned to see soap grinning widely, practically bouncing with excitement. with a sigh, simon reached over and smacked the back of soap’s head, though his movements were careful not to jostle the sleeping baby in his arms.

‘there’s people grieving, you idiot,’ simon muttered, but soap only snickered, completely unfazed.

‘and what do you mean, ‘our’? she’s y/n’s and mine. you’re not part of this relationship, mate,’ simon added, his tone dripping with mock irritation.

but soap, undeterred, just ignored him and held out his hands, wiggling his fingers in a display of exaggerated excitement. ‘oh, come on! let me hold our child!’

simon groaned, looking down at you with a glance that seemed to ask, ‘do i really have to put up with this?’ but he couldn’t hide the tiniest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as soap’s enthusiasm filled the air around you.

reluctantly, and with another sigh, simon finally leaned over, carefully passing your daughter to soap, though not without a low, ‘if you don’t keep her calm, you’re not holding her again.’

soap just grinned, taking her into his arms as if he’d won the lottery, cradling her gently and cooing softly.

soon after, the rest of task force 141 gathered around, drawn by the excitement, each member eager to catch a glimpse of the new addition to the family.

you and simon stood to the side, watching with cautious eyes as they took turns holding her, each one adopting a careful gentleness you wouldn’t have expected from hardened soldiers.

price held her with a proud grin, murmuring something about ‘training her to be the next captain,’ while gaz made her giggle softly with his gentle cooing. even the usually reserved roach softened as he held her, a rare smile tugging at his lips.

you glanced up at simon, watching his face as he stood beside you, arms crossed in a show of casual indifference.

but you knew him too well. beneath the mask of stoicism, there was something warmer, a subtle softness in his gaze as he watched his team, his family, sharing this moment with him. this gruff, unbreakable soldier, who had once thought he’d lost everything, had found a new family among them, one that shared in his joys and sorrows alike.

reaching over, you took his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. he didn’t say anything, just gave your hand a quick squeeze in return, a quiet acknowledgment. but you could see it in his eyes, that gratitude for a family he never expected to find—a family that had now become part of yours.

#cod x reader #simon ghost riley #call of duty #simon riley #simon riley blurbs #simon riley headcanons #simon riley x reader #task force 141 #simon ghost riley blurbs #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #john price #kyle gaz garrick #gary roach sanderson #cod ghost

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