#I'm squeezing him to death(with love ofc)

[dannymans66]

Ichiji dump

Words cannot express the grip this man has on me, the hyperfixation has been going strong for like 2 years and a half.

My sketchbooks are filled with drawings of him

[pitlanepeach]

The Long Way Home I Chapter Five

Oscar Piastri x Harper Grace (OFC)

Summary — When Harper, a kind girl with a guarded heart, meets rising karting star Oscar Piastri at their English boarding school, sparks fly.

It only takes one silly moment of teenaged love for their lives to change forever.

Warnings — Teenage love, growing up together, falling in love, teen pregnancy, no explicit scenes when the characters are underaged (obviously??), strong language, manipulative parents, past death of a parent, dyscalculia, hardly any angst, slice-of-life basically!

Notes — I listened to Never Be (5sos) exclusively while writing this chapter. Make of that what you will.

Wattpad Link | Series Masterlist

They sat in one of the smaller meeting rooms off the admin hallway. Too clean. Too bright. Harper sat stiffly on one side of the table, Oscar next to her, foot bouncing under the chair. Chris sat across from them with his hands folded in front of him.

Harper thought Chris looked like Oscar — or, she supposed, Oscar looked Chris.

Chris was just older. Somehow calmer than her stony faced, rarely phased boyfriend.

Although that wasn't hard right now — she wasn't sure Oscar had been calm since she barged into the boys dorms four days ago, all wide-eyed and panicked.

Chris cleared his throat gently. "Okay. First things first—you're both fine. No one's angry at you. We're not going to panic. We're just going to figure this out."

Harper nodded once. Her hands were fisted around her skirt and her shoes tapped against the floor with every nervous motion.

Chris looked between them. "That said, I'm going to ask you both some questions that might feel a little uncomfortable, but they're important. Okay?"

Oscar groaned softly. "Dad..."

Chris gave him a dry look. "You don't get to be squeamish now, mate."

Harper actually let out a breath of a laugh, but it sounded more like a cough.

Chris turned to her gently. "Harper. Have you seen a doctor, or just taken the pregnancy tests?"

"Just the tests," she told him. "I—uh, I don't have a GP here. My mum takes me to doctors all over the country. Private clinics. Some in London, some in Geneva. It just... depends where she is."

Chris nodded slowly, absorbing that. "Okay. That's fine. We can sort that out. But you do need to be seen by someone soon — someone consistent. I'll speak to your mum, just to make sure you're healthy and everything's progressing safely—"

Harper's head snapped up.

"You'll speak to my mum?" Her voice was sharp, incredulous. Her eyes were wide now, panic blooming behind them. "No. No, no, no. You can't speak to my mum. She'll lose it. She'll be even angrier if I let someone else tell her."

Oscar shifted beside her, already on edge. "Dad—"

Chris held up a hand, not unkindly. "Alright. I hear you, Harper. I do. I'm not going to call her out of the blue."

"She'll think I'm doing it to humiliate her," Harper went on, fast now, tripping over her own words. "Like I'm trying to ruin her reputation or something. She'll go nuclear. She always does when she doesn't feel in control. And this—" she gestured vaguely to her stomach, her voice cracking, "this is like her worst nightmare."

Chris watched her for a long moment. Then he leaned forward, elbows on the table.

"Okay," he said gently. "Then we make a plan. You'll be the one to tell her. In your own words. On your terms. But we can't avoid this, Harper. She's your mother. She's part of this, even if it's hard."

Harper nodded, small and quick, but her hands were shaking now.

Oscar slid his hand over hers under the table, gave it a quick squeeze. She didn't look at him, but she didn't pull away either.

Chris remained calm, his tone steady. "I also need to ask—are either of you, um, involved with anyone else? Right now or before? I don't need names or details. It's just about making sure you're both medically okay."

Harper flushed red, heat creeping from her collar to her cheeks. "No," she mumbled. "Only ever Oscar."

"Only ever Harper," Oscar echoed, a beat late and way too loud.

Chris gave a small nod. "Okay. That's good to know. But we'll still need to get you both checked out. Full screenings, just to be safe."

"My mum's going to want us to see someone on her books," Harper said under her breath, eyes flicking away. "For... confidentiality reasons."

Chris blinked. "Confidentiality?"

"She—she's kind of a big deal," Harper admitted. "She founded La Ruche. It's a fashion label."

Chris's eyebrows rose, just slightly.

"And my dad was... J.J. Whiatt."

Chris leaned back, exhaled slow. "Jesus. That complicates things."

Harper's bottom lip wobbled. "I'm sorry."

Oscar shifted, dragging Harper's chair closer to his, one arm sliding protectively around her shoulders. He whispered something just for her — soft and steady — and she nodded, breathing a little slower.

Chris sat forward again. "Look, I don't want to overwhelm you. I know this is scary. But you need to tell your mum, Harper. Nothing can happen here until she knows, and things need to start happening." He stared at them for a beat. "I'll give you until tomorrow morning. If you haven't told her by then, I'll do it myself. Okay?"

There was a pause.

Then Harper whispered, "Okay."

Chris gave her a gentle smile. "Thank you. You're part of this family now, Harper. Our family. That means than I'm going to look out for you, same as we do for him."

Oscar looked up, throat tight. "Dad?"

Chris met his eyes.

"I'm sorry," Oscar said. "Neither of us meant for any of this to happen."

Chris nodded. "I know. But it did. And now we handle it — like adults."

Oscar didn't respond right away. Then he reached across the table and hooked his pinky around Harper's. Held it tight.

Chris noticed. Didn't say a word. Just flipped open his notebook.

"Okay," he said. "Let's make a to-do list."

—

They sat outside Oscar's dorm window, backs against the brick wall, knees bumped together. It was stupid cold, but neither of them cared. Harper was wearing his blazer — it was two sizes too big on her and covered her skirt and made it took like she wasn't wearing anything underneath it.

She was quiet. Had been for a while.

Oscar kicked a loose stone. "You okay?"

Harper shrugged, but it wasn't a real answer. Her arms were wrapped around her knees.

After another minute, she muttered, "My mum wasn't always like she is now, you know."

Oscar looked over. She wasn't looking at him.

"She used to laugh at my jokes. Braid my hair for ballet. We used to bake Christmas biscuits together and she'd make my birthday cake every year from scratch."

He didn't say anything, just listened.

"When I was nine," she said, voice weirdly flat. "Me and my dad went on a ski trip. He thought it'd be a good bonding experience — just the two of us."

Oscar turned his full body toward her, heart sinking. Something about the way she said it made his stomach twist.

"There was a helicopter," she said. "We were flying off the mountain. There was a storm. It wasn't — nobody expected it. And we went down."

Oscar stared at her. "Wait, what?"

She nodded. "I don't remember us actually going down. I just remember waking up. I was so cold. I couldn't feel my legs. My back hurt. And my arm was... all messed up." She looked down at her hands. "Everyone died. The pilot, his co-pilot, and my dad. But I just... didn't."

"Jesus," Oscar whispered.

Harper gave a weak little smile. "Yeah."

He didn't know what to say. He didn't have the right words for helicopter crashes or dead dads. So he just sat there, panicking quietly.

She didn't seem to expect anything, though. "I've got some scars," she said. "On my back. From the crash. I usually hide them." She smiled at him, a bit wry. "I guess I got good at it."

Oscar frowned and shifted closer to her. "Wait, like... real scars?"

She rolled her eyes. "No, fake ones."

He blushed, and she sighed. Then, carefully, she tugged the back of his blazer and her white shirt up. Just enough to show him. A couple of pale, rough-edged marks trailed across her lower back, like lightning marks carved deeply into her skin.

Oscar's heart thudded at the sight of them. His throat thickened. "Shit," he said, because what else was there?

She pulled her shirt back down quickly and looked away. "It's gross. Whatever."

"No," he said fast. "No, it's not. It's not gross, it's... I dunno." He raised his hand to touch her and then dropped it again with a flush in his cheeks. "Sorry. I just — I can't believe I never noticed."

That made her snort, just a little. "It's fine. My mum didn't even visit me until three days afterwards," Harper said with a shrug. "When she did, she acted more like she was visiting some stranger in hospital than her daughter. I was crying in pain and she that I needed to suck it up because I should've just been grateful to be alive. And then she said that my crying was making people uncomfortable."

Oscar clenched his jaw. "She sucks."

Harper smiled at that, but it was a sad kind of smile. "She started treating me different after that," she said. "Like I'd made her life harder by surviving."

Oscar reached out and bumped her knee with his. "You didn't."

She sniffed. "Feels like I did."

"I can't believe you survived a helicopter crash," Oscar said after a bit, eyes still on the horizon. "You might be the luckiest person I know."

She gave him a look. "Osc. I'm pregnant. At fifteen."

He grinned faintly. "Okay, yeah. But still."

Harper choked on a laugh. "Right. Thanks," she mumbled.

"For what?"

"For not saying something stupid."

Oscar shrugged. "Just wish I could make it all better for you."

"Yeah," she mumbled. "Me too."

—

Oscar slipped out of the library after study-hour and ducked behind the music building, phone pressed tight to his ear. He already knew what was coming. His dad had warned him. Still, nothing prepared him for the moment her voice broke through.

"Oscar."

It was sharp. Cracked down the middle. He flinched.

"Mum—"

"I trusted you." Her voice rose — not angry, exactly. More stunned. Wounded. "I trusted you to go to England and be smart. To focus. To take this opportunity seriously."

"I am taking it seriously."

"Clearly not seriously enough if you're knocking up boarding school girls in your dorm—"

"Mum." He winced. Cut her off. "Please don't talk about Harper like that."

There was a pause. A huff. Not quite crying. Not yet. "I'm not talking about her. I'm talking about you. My son. The one I thought had more sense than this."

Oscar pressed a hand to his forehead. The wall behind him was cool against his back. "I didn't mean for this to happen." He felt like a broken record. "Neither of us did."

"No one ever means for it to happen." Her voice was tight, clipped. "And now what? What do you think happens now, Osc? A fairy-tale ending?"

"No." He was quiet a second. "No. I think we just have to deal with it."

Another pause. When she spoke again, her voice was smaller. "I feel like I don't even know you right now."

That one hurt more than anything else. He stared out across the courtyard, eyes stinging. "I'm still me, Mum."

"Are you?" she snapped. Then softer, more pained. "God. You're still a baby yourself. You're fifteen."

"I know."

"You're fifteen, Oscar. And I've seen fifteen. I was fifteen. When I was your age all I cared about was Billy Joel and which shop would sell me my next pack of cigarettes."

He breathed through his nose. "I know."

Nicole didn't answer for a long time.

When she did, it was quiet. Flat. "Your father's there now?"

"Yeah."

"So, what's the plan, Oscar?" She asked on a sigh. "Are you going to raise a child together at boarding school? Split custody between the boys and girls dorms?"

"We haven't even decided anything yet."

"God," she muttered. "Oscar, I just—" Her voice cracked. "I wanted so much more for you."

He swallowed. "I'm sorry."

"Jesus," she breathed. "Okay. Okay. I need to... I'll call you later. I'm not—I'm not in a good place to say anything else right now."

"Okay." He hesitated. "Mum?"

"What?"

"I really am sorry."

Silence.

Then, "I know, Osc. I know."

She hung up.

Oscar leaned his head against the wall, the guilt crawling under his skin like it belonged there.

He wiped his eyes with his sleeve and stared at the astroturf where the year eights were playing tackle rugby.

And he sat there until the next bell rung.

—

Harper sat on the cold stone steps just below the landing outside the girls dorm — the one spot on campus where phone reception was always strongest. Her knees were pulled to her chest, Oscar's racing hoodie baggy and warm on top of her school uniform. She'd been staring at her phone for ten minutes.

The screen glowed.

Mummy (Victoria)

She tapped the call icon before she could think too hard.

It rang.

Once.

Twice.

Three times—

"Harper?" Victoria Whiatt's voice was sharp, brisk. "It's a school night. Why are you calling?"

Harper's voice caught in her throat. She tried to swallow it back down. "I — Hi, Mum," she whispered. "Can you... would you be able to come to Haileybury, please?"

Silence.

"It's just that... I need you," she said, the words tumbling out. "Please. Mum—Mummy, please." She closed her eyes tightly, a tear slipping down her cheek. "I need you to come. I'm scared and I don't know what to do."

"Harper," her mother said, voice clipped with impatience. "What's going on? Have you done something wrong? Are you in trouble? God, do I need to call my lawyers?"

Harper pressed the heel of her palm to her eye. She didn't want to say it like this. She'd planned to be calm. Clear. Strong. But now her whole body was shaking and she was begging her mother — calling her mummy out-loud for the first time since she was eight — and it had all turned into a big mess.

"I'm pregnant," she whispered. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to happen. But I need help. I don't know what to do, and I'm scared, and—"

"You're what?" Victoria's voice was suddenly thin. "God. Jesus fucking Christ. Harper Grace — tell me you're joking."

Harper's breath hitched. "I'm not. I just—Mum, please. Please come. I need my mum. I need you."

The silence was suffocating.

When her mother finally spoke, her voice was tight. Controlled. "How far along?"

"I don't know. A few weeks. The test said three plus. I need to see a doctor but—"

Her mother cut her off with a low curse. "Christ. You're fifteen. Fifteen, Harper. You're still a child!"

"I know," Harper said, her voice breaking. "And I promise that I didn't mean for this to happen. But it has and I know that I'm stupid and an idiot and all of the other horrible things you want to call me right now — but I'm scared and alone and I need you to help me, mum."

Her mother didn't respond right away. Harper could hear something rustling — maybe papers, or her mother's laptop.

"Mum?" She whispered.

"I'm in Milan," Victoria said stiffly. "I have a show tomorrow."

"I don't care about your show." Harper's voice rose, desperate. "Please. Please just come."

A long pause.

"I'll be on a flight tonight."

Harper let out a tiny breath, her eyes brimming with tears.

"Is it his? The kart boy? Is it his baby?" She asked.

Harper nodded. "Yeah. Yes. I — Yeah. It's his baby."

"Right then. I'll be there at seven a.m. tomorrow morning." Was all her mother said. And then she ended the call.

Harper curled tighter into the stairwell wall, phone still clutched in her hand.

And then the crying started — not the quiet, clenched kind she'd perfected over the years.

But loud, messy sobs that racked her chest and made her shoulders shake.

Jane found her less than a minute later.

She didn't ask questions. Just dropped to the step beside her, wrapped both arms around her like she could hold her together, and pressed her cheek to Harper's hair.

Harper sobbed into her shirt.

Five minutes later, Oscar rounded the corner in his uniform — blazer unbuttoned, tie crooked. He paused mid-step when he saw them. Just froze.

His breath caught.

Harper, curled in on herself like something broken. Jane holding her. The echo of her crying bouncing up the stone walls.

Oscar's stomach dropped.

"Shit," he whispered, voice barely audible.

Then he moved.

He jogged the last few steps, dropping to his knees on Harper's other side. His bag hit the floor with a dull thud.

"Hey, hey," he said gently, reaching for her, brushing her hair back. "I'm here."

Harper turned blindly into his chest without thinking, her sobs still shuddering through her.

Jane shifted, giving him space, her face tight with worry.

Oscar pulled Harper into his arms, one hand cradling the back of her head, the other steady at her spine. He didn't ask what happened. He didn't have to.

He just held her tighter.

"Love you," he whispered, barely more than a breath.

"Love you too." She hiccuped.

—

The classroom was cold despite the sunlight cutting across the desks in crooked lines. Harper sat with her arms folded over her notebook, pen resting in the crease of the spine. She wasn't writing. Just breathing.

Her eyes were still red and swollen.

Oscar slid into the seat beside her, spinning his pencil once before leaning close.

"You good?" He murmured.

She didn't look at him. "Not really."

He was quiet for a second, then said, in a low, overly serious voice, "The eagle is landing near the river tonight. Nest secured. Feathers ruffled, but holding."

Harper blinked at him. "What?"

"It's code," he said, a bit flustered. "My dad. Staying at the hotel near the river. He's had the heads up that he'll be meeting the Mothership tomorrow."

She winced. "Please don't call my mother that."

"Operation Parental Peace Summit is a go. He said he'll be there when she arrives. You, me, him, Queen Doom herself — roundtable discussions. Treaties. Diplomacy."

She gave a faint, exhausted laugh. "You're so ridiculous. I don't know what you're saying, Oscar."

"Code is effective," he whispered. Then he smiled at her, all teeth — and she realised that he was just messing around. Trying to make her smile.

It'd worked.

Harper hesitated, staring at the lined page in front of her. "I think..." she started. "I think the idea of not keeping — it — makes me feel worse than I thought it would."

Oscar's expression softened immediately, his eyebrows coming together. "Okay." He said quietly.

She kept her voice low. "I'm not saying I've decided. Just — I get this tight feeling in my chest when I imagine... not going through with it."

Oscar nodded slowly. "Okay."

Before either of them could say more, the teacher turned from the whiteboard.

"Mr. Piastri. Miss Whiatt. Something to share with the class?"

Oscar straightened, fake smile already in place. "Just discussing international conflict resolution, sir."

"Save it for Model UN." The teacher glared at them.

Harper hid a smile, ducking behind her hair. The teacher turned back to the board.

Oscar passed her a note under the desk.

I'm on your side whatever you decide.

Harper traced the edge of the paper with her thumb.

—

The next morning, Harper waited just outside the school reception, blazer buttoned unevenly and hands fidgeting with the hem of her pleated skirt. The courtyard was grey and thick was early morning mist, the kind that clung to skin and made her hair frizz no matter what she did to try and stop it.

She'd been up since five. Couldn't sleep. Could barely even manage the breakfast bar that Jane had shoved at her. She'd brushed her teeth twice and still felt sick.

Her fingers trembled as the black town car pulled up — sleek and silent.

The suit-clad driver stepped out and opened the back door.

Victoria Whiatt emerged like she was stepping onto a runway. Designer coat, dark glasses even in the morning haze, heels clicking across the old stone. She didn't look like she'd spent the night on a plane. She looked like she was ready for a press release.

Harper stood up straighter without meaning to.

Her mother's eyes scanned her. Once. Head to toe. "You look haggard."

"Hi, Mum," Harper said quietly.

Victoria took off her sunglasses slowly. "Is that really what they make you wear here? I don't remember it being so — juvenile."

Harper blinked.

"Your skirt is creased. And the buttons on that blazer — God, Harper, how hard is it to dress yourself like a normal, respectable person?"

"I—I didn't sleep much." She managed.

"I should think not." There was a long pause. Victoria looked around at the school buildings like they were beneath her. Then her eyes snapped back to Harper. "So." Her voice was sharp. "Where is he?"

Harper's fingers clenched around the strap of her bag. "He's with his dad. They're—waiting for us to go to meet them at the hotel he's staying at."

Another pause.

"I don't want a performance out of you," Victoria said coolly. "I don't want tears or sentiment. I want honesty. I want facts. And I want to know how you could possibly be this irresponsible!"

Harper flinched. But she nodded. "Yes, Mum."

"Fix your blazer," Victoria muttered, already turning away. "And get in the car. Which hotel?"

"The nice one. The one you stayed at when I first moved here," Harper said, forcing her voice to stay even.

Victoria exhaled slowly. "Of course. The one with the mediocre wine list and the doorman who talks too much."

She opened the passenger door with a perfectly manicured hand. Harper moved around to the other side, heart pounding against her ribs.

They sat in silence for a moment as the driver pulled away from the school gates.

"So, they've got money then?" Victoria asked, eyes still on the road ahead. Her voice was light, sharp as a needle. "That's nice. I'm sure it'll make this a lot easier."

Harper turned her head slowly, looked at her mother. The way her profile was all angles and detachment, like she was discussing stocks or seating charts — not the life growing inside her daughter.

"I want to keep the baby," Harper said.

The words landed like a brick dropped into a still pond. The ripple of them filled the car.

Victoria blinked.

Then blinked again.

Her head turned, slow and deliberate, until her eyes locked with Harper's. "What did you just say?"

Harper held her gaze. "I said I want to keep it. The baby."

Victoria stared at her like she was speaking another language. "You're fifteen."

"I know."

"You're going to ruin your life."

Harper's throat tightened, but she didn't look away. "Like I ruined yours?"

Victoria's lips parted, then closed. She looked out the window again, something flickering behind her eyes. "This isn't a dog, Harper," she said finally, voice thin and brittle. "You don't just get to decide that you’re going to keep it. You're still a child — you're not old enough to make that decision. God, imagine it, Harper Grace. Imagine what people would say? Your father's name—"

Harper swallowed, hard. "Dad would've understood. He would've hugged me. Told me he loved me. He might've been disappointed — but he wouldn't have treated me like you are right now."

Victoria's jaw tensed. Her fingers curled against her lap, white-knuckled. "You don't get to invoke him," she said, low and venomous. "Not when you've made a circus out of everything he built for you."

Tears burned the corners of Harper's eyes, but she didn't let them fall. "I'm not trying to hurt you, mum," she whispered. "I'm just trying to do what feels right in my gut. For me. For Oscar. His dad—"

"Oh, wonderful," Victoria snapped. "The 'pit crew' is standing by." She made physical quotations around the words.

Harper flinched again. Looked down at her hands. "Please, Mum. Please don't shut me down like that. I'm scared, alright? I know that this was my fault, mine and Oscar's. But we've talked, okay? We've talked about it, about keeping it or not. And we — we both agree that it feels right to keep it."

Victoria was silent.

Then she sighed, the long, tired kind that Harper remembered from fittings and fundraisers and end-of-term reports that were anything but a 99 or above.

"I'm not shutting you down. I'm here, aren't I?" She bit out. "God knows why I even bothered. We could've done this over the phone."

Harper knew that was the closest thing to an "I love you" that she was going to get.

NEXT CHAPTER

[jinnie-ret]

Hiii I was wondering if you could possibly do a skz reaction to their s/o having angel fangs (like the piercing) like maybe they get them done without telling them or just them dating who has them if you're okay with it ofc, thank you for taking your time to read my request. I understand if you don't want to do it :] have a good day/ night

skz reaction to s/o with angel fangs

genre: fluff, angst if you squint

content warnings: none

word count: 1.3k

This is my first ever time writing a reaction fic so I hope you enjoy it!! :)))

I really enjoyed doing this one! Hope you have a good day/night too my lovely <3

As always, like, reblog if you enjoyed, and my asks are open for any requests you may have. And let me know if you'd like to be tagged when I post :)

MAIN MASTERLIST

Bang Chan

Chan loved his sweet girlfriend so so much. He thought you were the kindest person in the world and all he could ever think when he saw you was how sweet you are. Next to your shy temperament, you stood out in a different way to him with your silver angel fangs piercing.

"How can you be so cool and cute at the same time?" he admired you from where you were both cuddled on the sofa in the recording studio.

"Channie..." you blushed, hiding your face. He thought you'd be used to his compliments by now after being together for two years but no.

"I'm serious! It's making my brain... malfunction," he said, staring up at the ceiling as he tried to gather his thoughts.

"That's a good thing, right?" you boldly asked him, smiling.

"I can't with you, you're going to be the death of me," he squeezed you tighter in his arms.

Lee Know

Your boyfriend has his own quirks, his own habits that you had noticed ever since you met him, and one of them was poking the tips of your angel fangs. He was always pressing the pads of his fingers into the spikes.

"My little vampire girlfriend," he cooed as he didn't even look you in the eyes but stared at your lips and the jewellery adorning it.

"I'm not little," you rolled your eyes.

"Okay, okay I get it, 'careful I bite' and all that stuff your normally say," he teased, ruffling your hair as you groaned.

"If anything you're the vampire, it's like you want your fingers to bleed or something you weirdo," you folded your arms and rolled your eyes at him jokingly.

"You're not scary," he simply smirked back at your attempt to pretend to be angry, and that caused you both to crack a smile, the admiration you had for each other clear to see.

Changbin

He hadn't said anything yet. It had been 2 hours since you got back from the piercing studio and he'd said nothing.

"Sooooo, have you noticed?" you suddenly turned to him, making him choke on his glass of water.

"Of course I have! just didn't know what to say straight away..." Changbin said, deep in thought after recovering from the water incident.

"You don't like them?" you twiddled your thumbs awkwardly, sensing he didn't like them and he had kept himself quiet to not say anything that might hurt your feelings. At least he had your best interests in mind.

"No I love them... there's just too many words to describe how perfect you are," he turned you to face him, hand gently stroking your chin.

Oh.

So he did like them.

"Well, we've got time," you shrugged confidently, causing his hand to drop from your face as he whined.

"Stoppp! I was being cute!"

Hyunjin

He has just come back from dance practice and you were chilling in his room waiting to see him. You had just gotten the angel fangs piercing done today, and were expecting Hyunjin back anytime and wanted to see his reaction.

"Are we having a hotness competition or what?" he dropped his duffle bag with spare clothes on the floor, watching you relaxed on his bed.

"There's no competition, baby," you winked at him in an over the top way, making him giggle as he laid down next to you and admired them, caressing your cheek slowly with his hand as he analysed your face, like he was trying to burn it into his memory.

"You're staring," you whispered.

"Can't help it," he placed a chaste kiss upon your lips and pulled back to keep staring.

"You're like a magpie," you giggled, and he playfully whacked you on the arm as he rolled away from you and covered his face with his hand.

"You're such an idiot, Y/N!" he cackled.

Han

You walked back into the dorms, ready to see your boyfriend and surprise him, yet he seemed to have spotted you before you could have seen him, his blanket bundled self on the sofa now flying towards you.

"Baby? What did you do?" he gasped, slowly walking up to after his dramatic rise from relaxation.

"Look! Aren't they so cool?" you bounced on your toes, grinning with your fangs peeking under your lip, yet he was still worried.

"Did it hurt?!?" he fussed over you, lightly touching his own lip and wondering how it felt.

"A little bit... but it's worth it," you shrugged, still smiling lightly at him, his concern over you only making you feel fuzzy and warm.

"Beauty is pain, I get it," he nodded, eyes fixated on the shining jewellery.

"We should be matching," you winked at him.

"Oh no, I'll let you keep your tiger status my love," he waved you off, now pulling you into a tight hug and appreciating you, though you couldn't fully rest your head against him as he just wanted to keep admiring you.

Felix

Before you could even breathe, you heard the squeals of your excited boyfriend.

"You finally got them done!" he embraces you and forced you to jump around with him.

"Yes! Don't you think it looks good!" you stood back and started doing random poses to show off.

"It's literally perfect, so you!" Felix gushed, rushing to grab his phone.

"I knowww, I love it!" you blushed, happy that Felix liked how it looked too.

"Let me take photos for you, sweetheart," Felix took lots of photos, ones that you definitely posted on Instagram later, your favourite ones being where his head peeked into frame and kissed the piercings upon your lips.

Seungmin

A lot of Stays were shocked that such a clean cut idol, got with a girl who presented more of a punk image in her aesthetic. You were truly opposites, but that's what made you two work so well together.

The two of you were currently walking the streets of Seoul on a Sunday evening, hands clasped together.

"I'm getting weird looks again... I wish I never got these," you muttered sadly under your breath, feeling people's eyes dart to you, and it wasn't just your paranoia, you.kmew that this time.

"Why would you say such a thing?" Seungmin asked, upset on your behalf and feeling the same way himself that you were hurting.

"I just feel..." you trailed off, not really wanting to continue your sentence.

"Tell me," Seungmin insisted, pulling you over to a bench from the both of you to sit down on.

"I think people don't like me being with you and think I'm ruining your image," you sighed, absentmindedly tracing your finger against your angel fangs piercing in particular.

"If anything you're improving it, darling," Seungmin hushed you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and cuddling you to him, a delicate kiss on your forehead following the affectionate action.

You blushed and his your face, mumbling nonsensical words as you couldn't get a response out.

"Hahaha, don't go shy on me now," he laughed with a big grin on his face.

"You're too sweet to me," you smiled back up at him, peacefully taking in the city lights and basking in the warmth of your boyfriend's arms.

Jeongin

Wow, was the word most people used to describe the pair of you when they saw you together. Probably apart too.

You were a power couple plain and simple. Hot, muscular Jeongin, paired with a hot, pierced reader? Match made in heaven.

"What are you going to get done next?" Jeongin asked as you were both out getting coffee.

"Jeongin, I've literally had these for a couple of hours..." you facepalmed at your boyfriend, who although eager to see your new ones wanted to know how many more you'd get, already imagining all the different places available on your body where there was room.

"You're right, I need more time to obsess over these," he smirked and cockily raised his eyebrows as you from across the table.

"What am I gonna do with you?" you shook your head and lightly laughed at his antics.

tagged: @kiraisastay @skz-streamer @hannahhbahng @backintomykpopphaseagain

[houpss]

Dawg I’m actually begging crying on my knees for you to do a reverse version where like reader dies protecting skz 😭😭😭 ofc obvi no pressure, like only if you’d like to 🙏🏻🩷 you write so well im like obsessed

ububububu.....I'm very pleased to hear this! thanks for the idea, love 🩷🫂

I'm eating strawberries and crying, I literally feel bad about this job 😭😭😭

SKZ's reaction to your death ver. hyung line

maknae line

It pains me to write this work, my heart breaks and I begin to believe in this nonsense... BUT REMEMBER THAT ONLY PERSONALITIES ARE TAKEN FROM THE REAL SKZ, EVERYTHING REST IS FICTION!

Bang Chan

It happened...suddenly.

Chan returned home before you, he wanted to cook you dinner and then turn on a new movie that he recently found.

He knew that you were stuck at work, so he wasn’t too worried.

An hour has passed... you're gone, but you should be back by now. Two hours have passed, Chan is nervous.

He called you, you didn’t pick up, he called you so many times, but you didn’t hear.

At two o'clock in the morning he receives a call on his phone. He jumps out of bed, hoping it's you calling, but it's just an unfamiliar number.

He picks up the phone, he just hopes you're okay.

"Are you Bang Christopher Chan? I'm sorry..Y/N Bang died."

Chan thought it was a joke, a very unfunny joke.

He can only come to consciousness when he sees your body. Road accident, you didn't survive.

He will ask Changbin, Jisung and Hyunjin to come out quite aggressively, because they came with him.

He ran his fingers over your pale face, tears forming in his eyes. Impossible.

He strokes your hair, strokes your hands, stopping at your fingers...he squeezes your hand tightly. Why did you leave him?

Tears fall on your lifeless body, you would be very upset if you saw Chan crying.

They can only drag him out of your room in the morning, he didn’t want to let go of your body until the end, it was like he was possessed.

"No, don't take me...I have to stay with her! I don't want to be taken away from her"

"she’s probably so cold and scared... she’s alone there, she’s already lifeless.”

He blamed himself, he could have taken you away from work, but why didn’t you ask?

The exit from the hospital is filled with reporters and paparazzi, the shocking news shocked many: “Model and Actress, Bang Chan’s wife Y/N Bang died in a car accident.”

Thanks to the members, they protected Chan from reporters and endless paparazzi. Chan did not walk behind as usual, but in the middle, and a ring was created around the participant.

Chan doesn’t remember anything, he just cried, he cries so much and loudly.

The members refused to leave him, although he asked so. They went to the dorm.

A day has passed... two days have passed... a week has passed. Funeral.

He remembers everything very vaguely, he was the last one to kiss your forehead before the coffin lid was closed.

Now he is completely alone.

He eats very little and hardly leaves the room. Minho literally force feeds him.

Your photos are open on his phone, you are on his wallpaper.

He doesn’t want to live without you, he wants you so much.

His tears never dry, he cries constantly. There are no emotions inside him, he is dead.

He looked through your correspondence... his heart ached madly.

He just loves you so much, he loves only you.

He apologized profusely to your family, it was his fault.

In the end he won't cope and he will leave for you. Chan was found hanged in his room. There was a note on the table with the words: “I can’t live without her, I’m nothing without her... forgive me.”

Lee Minho

People come and go. The simple meaning of life

But you couldn't leave him...not you

If you loved, then you would not have left...WHY DID YOU LEAVE HIM?

Overdose of antidepressants.

He found you in your apartment, you were lying on the bed, wrapped in a blanket... you seemed to be sleeping, but your heart was not beating.

What if he had found you earlier?

He would have stopped you.

He found a letter next to you... your last will and love for him

"𝐈'𝐦 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐤...𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰"

"𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞, 𝐇𝐨"

"𝐈'𝐦 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐲. 𝐈𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐞."

IT'S NOT EASIER WITHOUT YOU

He has been crying for several days in a row. Even the members can't pull it out.

He became so aggressive and closed.

His heart rotted and broke without you

He falls asleep with your sweatshirt on, with your perfume on it.

The company releases a statement that Minho is taking an indefinite hiatus from activities.

He wants to close his eyes, open his eyes and have you next to him.

He went through many treatments with you and visited many psychiatrists.

You smiled at him so much, so what happened?

Minho cried for the first time in front of the members, everyone was broken with your death.

After your death, he smoked for the first time.

The cigarette smoke calmed him down at least a little. And in your dreams you came to him, you talked to him a lot.

He became very closed off to himself, even Jisung couldn’t get him to talk.

Everything and everywhere reminded him of you

Your bottle of perfume...your drawings, your rings, your elastic bands, your sweaters

You would curse if you saw him like this.

Only a month later, after your funeral, he dared to pick up your phone.

To mom, dad and sister: “I’m sorry that I’m so weak.. I would like a better life for you, I wanted to live better and happier. I’m a bad daughter.”

To SKZ:"Sorry...be strong, you are world stars and become even more popular..."

To Minho:"I repent of you, I hate myself for what I did. I have about ten minutes left...And in these ten minutes I will continue to love you, Lee Minho. Maybe we will meet in the next life?"

The emotions he had been holding back burst out.

He screamed, his scream deafening the silence.

Physical pain in his heart pierced him. how the bitch it hurts.

Now he's wearing your big jacket.

“Please protect me, Y/N.”

SEO CHANGBIN

"Police lieutenant Seo Y/N was shot..she died while intercepting a drug gang. The ambulance did not have time to arrive"

What did he just hear? Why are they saying your name?

Is this a mistake? Maybe they got it wrong?

He refused to believe it until he was asked to come to the morgue to identify the body.

Yes, you were lying there...a bullet in the forehead.

Changbin turned away, he couldn’t look at you. He's scared.

Probably then he realized all the pain, he stopped living.

Felix and Seungmin forcibly dragged him away from the morgue.

He was never against your work, he was just proud of you. Of course, his wife is a police lieutenant.

He knew it was dangerous, but could anything bad happen to you?

"Changbin, she died a hero, please...be the same hero for her."

There were so many people at your funeral, why did they all come?

Changbin felt lost, Chan was holding his hand. Changbin couldn't navigate the space.

Time doesn't heal anything, remember.

He lost the desire to exist

He hated your job after your death, it's all your damn job.

Will you protect Changbin? Are you his guardian angel?

From time to time he hears your voice.

He will come to your parents and ask for forgiveness.

Really, forgive him.

He will take your dog with him, it seems... the dog really misses you, where is his owner?

Changbin doesn't like music anymore, he stopped working out, he stopped eating.

"Y/N would be upset if she knew that you wanted to leave the group."

"She told you to create for the sake of people's happiness."

"WITHOUT HER THERE IS NO FUCKING THIS HAPPINESS..."

You would like him to continue writing and working.

He will stay for your sake... and for the sake of the members, these three months they kept him afloat, he literally clung to them.

Your dog now has 8 caring men

Changbin brings red Lilies, your favorite flowers, to your grave every week.

Hwang Hyunjin

You have been married for five years, recently celebrated your anniversary.

You were the happiest couple! STAY blessed couple , the participants were incredibly happy about your couple.

You found out that you are pregnant.

Hyunjin was incredibly happy! Members will become uncles to your baby.

Felix took the place of godfather.

Chan and Minho were responsible for choosing the name.

And Changbin, Jisung, Seungmin and Jeongin made rooms for your baby!

But...you had a back injury, which made it dangerous to give birth.

You didn't care, you were going to have the baby.

Difficulties began immediately during contractions, Hyunjin was with you all the time.

He was forced to leave the room in the middle of labor.

The members who were waiting in the corridor were very worried.

Sudden silence.

The doctor came out of the maternity room and said: “Congratulations, you have a daughter... please accept my condolences, your wife has died.”

What?

It sounded so absurd.

Hyunjin walked into your room, you looked so tired...so sad. sad aphrodite.

Hyunjin kissed your forehead, one hand on your neck, the other holding your hand.

"Thank you for daughter...and forgive me, I love you very much"

Tears rolled down Hyunjin's cheeks, the tears were like pearls.

Hyunjin went home with the members.. The workers left your daughter in the hospital for several days.

Hyunjin seemed to understand nothing, he understood absolutely nothing.

"The baby will grow up in love, Hyunjin"

"We will all take care of her..she is an extension of Y/N" These words from Chan hurt Hyunjin's heart...He will protect and love his daughter.

Hyunjin is always crying, his eyes are red, his face is swollen from crying.

It hurt even more when Seungmin brought your favorite coffee.

In three days we could pick up our daughter.

All eight participants went to the maternity hospital.

They brought out a small package for you, what a tiny little thing.

Hyunjin looked at the little baby as if he were the eighth wonder of the world, the girl was sleeping. Hyunjin could have sworn that she would look like you.

"We'll call her Viyoung" Why is this in tune with Vendetta?

The guy nodded approvingly, tears flowing down his cheeks again.

The members took turns holding the bundle with the baby in their hands.

"I will love you so much, Viyoung...just like your mother loved you."

“Your uncles will take care of you...you will grow up with complete love.”

They went home, everything will be fine. Your memory will never fade away. Hyunjin will raise a beautiful daughter. She's a copy of you, but with Hyunjin's eyes.

[skele-bunny]

okay okay okay gimme pregnant swiss!!! (with mountain ofc)

Self Conscious. (CW) Mountain/Swiss

CW - Self Image Issues, "fat" used negatively

Characters: Swiss, Mountain

(Hi STINKY 🫵 Swissalps for you. Fluff post! Divider by @ wrathofrats )

Staring into the mirror felt like a burden. A disgrace and reminder of how tormented and swollen Swiss felt. His eyes lingered as he turned, grimace worsening as his very obvious, very big, very fat pregnant stomach looked back. Carrying twins wasn't pretty, Swiss knew it wouldn't be. He just didn't expect it to look so bad on him. After all, Swiss was only three months pregnant at this point. He felt disproportionate. His keyhole scars around his chest just a bright pink as his breasts started swelling again, leading to another thing Swiss hated about his current stature.

Stretch marks ran up his sides, armpits, and more importantly his stomach. The soft flesh just above his genitals had started swelling just as much to the point he required help to shave himself. Needless to say, Swiss felt fucking ugly.

The multi turned to see skin rolls on his back, and that just seemed to set him off. Tears slowly swelled before openly crying, bringing his hands up to cover his face. He used the sink counter to lower onto the closed toilet seat, tail wrapping around his thigh and squeezing for some kind of reassurance that did nothing but make it worse as Swiss eyed the extra fat it squeezed.

His sobs wracked through his body, setting off a surge of both hormones and elements, dead flowers popping up through his frazzled hair he hadn't gotten done yet. Even worse, his body felt hotter than normal, hand going to his chest as a warning burp made itself known. He was a mess. Through and through. Another wail left, finger pads pushing into his round stomach.

"Petal?" A knock at the closed bathroom door echoed, Mountain's scent of worry becoming obvious as the smell of wet dirt clouded. "Are you alright? I could smell you from the kitchen."

The sentence hit worse, Swiss now too obvious of his own body odor from not showering yet. "G-Go away!" He sobbed again.

"Oh, darling... What's the matter?"

Swiss couldn't find it in himself to respond, frantically wiping his cheeks and shaking his head. The door knob jiggled before a silent curse, a tiny vine slipping through the keyhole and the wooden door opened, Swiss snapping his head up and grabbing the roll of toilet paper near to throw at Mountain's head—Who thankfully ducked in time.

"Get out!" He now grabbed their toothbrush holder, throwing it next. "Get the fuck away from me!"

Mountain lifted his hand, catching the container quickly but placing it back down with gentleness. "Swiss... What's the matter?" He got down to one knee, ignoring as Swiss pushed at his shoulders and chest.

He kept sobbing, "Get away from me! I-I smell bad, and you said you could smell me, and I don't even know how you can stand looking at me!" Swiss fumbled as Mountain carefully grabbed his wrists, concern written on the earth ghoul.

"Darling, you smell distressed, not bad... Sweetheart..." Mountain whined, lifting his hands away to carefully wipe away tears that fell from his mates puffy face. "What's ailing you?"

Moving to lean into Mountain's calloused palms, Swiss sniffled again, his ears drooped. "I feel so ugly, Mount... I can't stand looking at myself anymore. I try t-to find positives in everything but I just can't. I'm not cut out for this..."

In an instant, Mountain's heart shattered. In his eyes, Swiss was the representation of the sun and moon, the existence of both life and death. He was beautiful. Represented every single thing Mountain loved, packed into one. To know his mate seen himself in such a negative light hurt him, better yet the fact of how much his mate was hurting—unbeknownst to Mountain this entire time.

"Are you having second thoughts?" He asked quietly, leaning up to rest his chin on Swiss' shoulder so the other could dead weight against him.

"No—Maybe? I don't know... I feel so lost. I feel so disgusting about everything. I love you, I love our children, but I can't... Love myself. I can't love the fact that me growing our kits is doing this to me."

The earth ghoul trilled, tail swaying some as he thought for a moment. "Can I use my logic?"

"I love your logic." Swiss laughed some, letting tears continue to quietly go down Mountain's shoulder.

"Okay, well... Tell me what you're not liking."

"My breasts are coming back."

"Well, since you stopped testosterone, your estrogen is coming back in play. Our bodies are quick to adapt, and you're in another adaptation stage. They're now clicking into your other hormones like prolactin which is causing the growth. However, since you had top surgery, your prolactin is trying to fill in the gaps which is causing the bumps." Mountain moved back, showing Swiss the bumps along his chest. "They're swelling your ducts more to prepare for the kits as you're carrying multiple and don't have bigger areas to swell at. However, once the kits get out of a nursing stage, you'll start getting flat again."

"So it's not," Swiss looked up, grimacing just a bit. "Forever?"

"No. Not forever. They may have a bit of a swelling for a long time, but not outright breasts. You'll just have some Aether tits." That caused a laugh from the multi, slowly kicking his feet back and forth.

"My stomach."

The taller moved down again, nuzzling his face against the bump and kissing it gently. "Your uterus is creating extra layers of protection and enlarging itself for nutrients and more blood flow using endometrium. Since you're growing two rascals, it's having to expand more to adjust to their sizes. Earth kits are known for being giants... Let alone the sac placed around them. But your body is adjusting to the size change and actively going to keep them healthy."

Swiss stayed silent, looking down as Mountain caressed his stomach. His fingers were so delicate, going up his stretch marks to his belly button. He leaned in once more to place a kiss.

"If you're worried about what you'll look like after, our skin is elastic. It's how we're able to shift through our forms without ripping ourselves open. You can maintain your size, if that's what you want, or simply use your elasticity to shimmer back down. Your stretch marks, though, won't go away..." Mountain sighed, admiring his mate's skin. "But I love them. Baphomet save me, I love them so much. Every single one of them."

A small laugh, "Even the ones on my cooch?"

"Even the ones on your cooch."

Leaning down, Swiss gently cupped Mountain's jaw so they could make eye contact. "Do you promise that you still love me? That I'm attractive? I don't even fit in your clothes anymore..."

"Oh, petal... I think if mother nature was a person, it'd be you. I think you're more beautiful than the earth." Swiss' heart jumped, tears swelling up more.

It was a serious mockery to ghouls to whisper your love more than your element, but such a strong example of devotion. Swiss wrapped his arms around Mountain's neck, crying harder against his shoulder. Never once did Mountain let go of Swiss, purring and sending comforting pheromones to try and relax.

Wiping his eyes on Mountain's collar, Swiss exhaled. "I need to shower and do my hair, I just need to feel... Better."

"Want me to help you?"

"...Please." Swiss nodded. "I need to shave."

"Ahh, deforestation. The bane of my existence."

Swiss broke into hysterical laughter, covering his mouth as he snorted. Even Mountain kept a smile as he leaned over to turn on their shower, making sure the temperature was comfortable.

"Am I washing your hair?" He asked, questioning to grab Swiss' shower cap or not.

"Yeah." Mountain placed the cap back on their shower caddy.

Slowly stripping himself, Swiss couldn't help but eye the stretch marks Mountain had on his back, slowly looking down at his thighs that had similar design. He smiled somewhat, rubbing his thumb over the discolored line.

"And what would my darling like his style to be once we're done?" Mountain scooped Swiss up, stepping them into the warm water, sitting him on the shower stool. "Are we thinking buns, are we thinking top knots, maybe even twists?" His claws gently began to rake through Swiss' messy afro, pick carefully sectioning his hair.

The sigh of relief that left Swiss could easily be mistaken for a moan, Mountain's tail twitching in response. He gave a chuckle, moving to kiss his mate's forehead.

"Dealers choice?"

Swiss nodded, moving his back against Mountain's fur-covered legs. "Yeah... Dealer's choice."

[echoingbirdsofprey]

Delicate (Jake's Version)

16 - Jake's Rescue

Pairing: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x OFC Samantha Kazansky

Rating: Explicit (MDNI!)

Warnings: Mentions of medical crap and mention of death. Big sads but I PROMISE it gets happy!

A/N: Don't worry I didn't leave y'all hanging. Hehehe

Tags: @mrsevans90 @djs8891

Playlist

“Careful pulling him down. Lieutenant Seresin, can you hear me?” The medic asked, shining his little flash light right in Jake's eyes.

“Of course I can, you fuck, get that thing outta my eyes. I'm not unconscious, I just have a ripping migraine and my entire body hurts.” Jake said and the attitude gave the medic pause but it made Mav, Rooster, and Coyote laugh. 

“Sorry, we're going to get you out of here. You've got several broken bones so we need to be careful.” The medic said as Coyote grabbed bolt cutters from the pack to break the cuffs he was in.

“Yeah, I'm aware. My shoulder is fucked and my ribs are probably free floating at this point with how long y'all took to come get me. I better get a goddamn cheeseburger when I get on the boat.” Jake said and Coyote couldn't help but chuckle. At least Jake's sense of humor was still intact. 

Jake was let down carefully, and he couldn't help the howl of pain that he let loose once he was on the ground. He whined as he was moved to the backboard and strapped in, and Rooster stayed by him, offering his hand to squeeze if he needed it. Jake took it and squeezed hard, making Rooster wince. He was surprised with how horrible Jake looked that he had any strength left. Jake was resilient, if nothing else. 

“We have to move you quickly, so this is probably gonna hurt like hell.” The medic said and Rooster stayed by Jake’s head after he secured his neck in a brace. “Rooster, you’re in charge of keeping him awake. I’ll get IV’s going once we’re up in the air.” 

“That won’t be hard. He’ll just bitch at me the whole time. This hurts, that hurts, fuck you, fuck this. You sound like an old man, Seresin.” Rooster said and Jake chuckled and winced in pain.

“Ah, Bradshaw...I missed you, you piece of shit.” Jake rasped with a smile, and then he gazed up at Rooster, who locked eyes as they hurriedly carried him. His smile faded quickly and Rooster saw tears fill the blond's eyes as he asked,“How’s my girl?” 

“Mav talked to her last...we’ll update her once we’re on the boat. She was pretty upset though.” Rooster said as there was a level change that he almost missed. They were carrying Jake as fast as they could, trying to outrun ground infantry forces that were now headed to their position. There were bandits in the air that were actively engaged with their pilots. The helicopter would have no support if they didn't take out the bandits. Jake took a deep breath, thinking of how much he

Once at the chopper, Jake was secured in and he was going Jake again. Rooster still had a hold of his hand and he felt Jake's grip loosen. Jake had lost consciousness.

“Seresin? Hey! Hangman! You gotta stay awake! Jake! JAKE!” Rooster yelled and the medic pushed him aside, trying his best to get an IV line going to get fluids in him. Once on the boat he had more options for medical treatment, but while they were in the air, this was all that was possible. 

Jake felt like he was floating. He felt the pinch of the needle and the rush of liquid coarse through his veins even in his dreams, but in them his brain, while exhausted, still took him to Sam. He saw a light ahead and saw Sam standing there, pretty as ever in her lime green bikini that he loved so much. He glanced down, his body tanned and toned, glistening from the water. They'd gone for a swim. He glanced back up at her, her beautiful smile and soft brown eyes pulling him closer. 

“Come back to me, Jake.”

“I'm trying’ baby girl, I'm really tryin’.”

He stepped toward her, the sand soft beneath his feet and he thought of her skin in that moment, how it felt silky against his fingers. As he got closer, he wound his hands around her waist and drew her in close, pressing his lips to hers, moaning at the feeling of finally being with her again.

Or was he?

“JAKE SERESIN DON'T YOU FUCKING DIE ON ME.” 

“ROOSTER GET OUT OF THE WAY!”

“LIEUTENANT STAND DOWN. LET THE MEDIC DO HIS JOB.”

“PADDLES. I’M LOSING HIM! PADDLES! STAND BACK!”

🛩🛩🛩

Sam was sitting downstairs on the couch, in her father’s spot. He loved the right arm. She surmised it had been because he had broken some ribs on the left at one point when he was younger and it made him uncomfortable to push them against the side of the couch, so he hugged the right side. He would always rub his side, underneath his arm on the left. Sam wondered if Jake’s captors had broken any of his bones, while trying to break his spirit. 

The puppies were laying on the opposite side of the couch, finally asleep after running errands with her. Rocco was stretched across her lap, making it very clear he was the favorite child. She felt her phone vibrate rapidly and seeing that it was again a restricted number, she picked up immediately.

“Please tell me he’s okay.” She said and there was a clearing of someone’s throat on the other end of the line.

“Samantha, it’s Beau.” He said, his voice tight. There was a gentle hum on his end of the line, most likely the ship’s engines.

“No...” She whined, tears beginning to well in her eyes. “Don’t you dare, don’t you tell me he’s gone!” She bawled, which woke Rocco and the puppies. Rocco was gentle as he climbed up and licked her face and she hugged the little red dog tight. The puppies both crawled toward her and tried their best to console her as well.

“He’s alive, Samantha, but they had to put him in a medically induced coma. He was extremely dehydrated when we found him, has several broken bones, and they were injecting him with different pain relieving substances. His heart was beating dangerously slow and had even stopped at one point. They restarted it...Sam, are you still there?” Beau’s voice drifted off, noticing he couldn’t hear her crying anymore. She sniffled and sighed.

“Is Jake alive, Beau, because it sounds like you're telling me I could lose him any second?” She asked, her tone flat.

“Yes. Barely, but he is. We’re on our way home. We’re going to wake him up when we get back to shore. One of us will come get you so you can come see him when we come back.” Beau said and he heard shuffling on Sam’s end. “Sam, you okay?”

“I just want him back, Beau.” She said, and Beau could hear Rocco whining. His snoot was laid against Sam's neck, his front paws on her shoulder. and the other two puppies had climbed on her lap, making sure she couldn’t get up. Sam had a tendency to pace when she was upset and Rocco and the puppies weren't going to let her. They wanted her to stay on the couch and stay calm. 

“I know, Sammy...I know. We're all trying to get him back to you, sweetheart. Just a few more days.” He said and then Sam hung up the phone. She moved the puppies and Rocco and laid down on the couch on her side. Rocco made his way back into her arms and the puppies settled behind her legs with their little heads resting atop her leg.

Sam felt paralyzed, unable to do anything, with the three dogs on the couch and let tears stream down her face. She placed her phone beside her head, just in case they called back. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine Jake as he was, not as he may be now. The handsome, blonde pilot who couldn’t keep his mouth shut or stop texting her because he wanted her. The only man who her father seemed to approve of for her. 

Sam cried herself to sleep, and before she knew it, her mother was waking her up and sending her up to bed. She didn't want to go to bed though. She decided to take the key Jake had given her, and go to his house. She took all three dogs, loaded them into the back of the truck and headed to his house. 

Sarah wished Sam would talk to her. They hadn't much since Ice had passed. And now with Jake deployed, there was even less communication. Sarah felt like she hadn’t been there for Sam very much, having to chauffeur her siblings around to everything that they did. She was glad Jake had been able to distract her, but Sarah surmised Sam resented her for not taking more time out for her. It was difficult to match Ice’s energy there. Sarah always felt like Sam had been the favorite child for Ice and she was probably right. 

🛩🛩🛩

When she entered Jake’s house, it was cool and dark. She flipped on the lights and let Rocco and the puppies examine things. She followed them around for a bit, making sure they wouldn’t chew on or pee on anything and once she was confident that they could be left unsupervised, she headed up the stairs to Jake’s room. She pushed the door open and inhaled the scent of his cologne. She brushed her fingers over the sheets where last they had been, naked and together. 

Her ears caught the jingling of the puppies' collars getting closer and she decided to look through his closet. His dress blues were in there, and lots of button downs and sweatshirts. She pulled one off a hanger that said ‘Navy’ in big letters. She yanked it over her head and pulled the sleeves down over her hands, bringing them up to her nose. His scent was all over it. Not only his cologne, but his natural body odor, which wasn’t bad by any means. The only way she could describe it was warm and relaxing, to be surrounded by his essence. 

She sat on the bed and the puppies bounded into the room, followed by Rocco. Sam laughed at the sight of two young, beautiful black dogs, the girl being the one with a white spot on her chest, going as fast as they could, followed by the long red dog trotting leisurely behind. Rocco sat down in front of Sam and the puppies ran around the room, investigating.

“You two could probably be bomb-sniffing dogs, you’re so curious. Jake is probably going to love you. As long as he comes home...god...Rocco...” She stared into the red dog’s deep chocolate orbs that stared back with devotion. He leapt up so that she could pick him up and then spoke into his smooth red coat. “I just want him back...I want dad back too...I miss dad...I miss Jake...so bad...” She began to cry again and Rocco rested his nose in the crook of her neck, trying to absorb her sadness with his little body. The puppies noticed and ran over and tried to climb up the bed. Ballast achieved his goal and Rocco glared at him, but never made a move to correct him. Ballast simply sat on the bed next to Sam and pressed his tiny nose under her arm. Muster clung onto her pants leg and rested her chin on Sam’s knee. 

“I’m sorry guys. You know how I feel, don’t you? You can tell how fucking depressed I am...” She said, falling back on the sheets, keeping Rocco tight to her chest so he didn’t fall. Muster managed to climb up the side of the bed and settled next to Sam too. She fell asleep like that, surrounded by the dogs and Jake’s enveloping scent. 

🛩🛩🛩

Rooster sat by Jake’s bedside as they headed into port. He was beside himself and blaming himself for everything. There had been a revolving door of people coming in to visit Jake, but Rooster stayed constant. He sat with him day and night until they reached home. Nat came in a few times to relieve him and make sure that Rooster slept. 

Rooster was falling asleep in the chair when he felt a hand at his back. He glanced up, exhaustion evident in his expression. It was Maverick.

“Bradley...we’re home. They’re gonna take him in an ambulance to the Naval Medical Center in San Diego and monitor him. I was hoping you might be able to go pick Sam up...” He said softly.

“I don��t think she’ll want to see him like this...” Rooster said and Maverick squeezed his shoulder.

“She will want to see him either way. They’re gonna wake him up when they get him there so that she can see him. Beau and I will be there too.” Maverick said and Rooster took a moment and stood, silently heading out of the room.

🛩🛩🛩

With Jake settled at the Naval Medical Center, they patched him up as best as they could. He'd needed surgery to reset his collarbone and ribs and they did that as quickly as they could. Then they began the process of waking him up. As he came to, his vision was blurry and he surveyed the room. 

“Where am I?” He asked, his voice raspy and barely there. He glanced down at his right arm, which was in a sling. He wanted to move it but knew he couldn't. His whole torso ached and he shifted slightly, figuring out that he had a bandage there. 

“You're at the Naval Medical Center in San Diego, California. You just had surgery and you were in a medically induced coma to give your body a chance to recover. We had to restart your heart. Do you know your name?” The doctor asked, and Jake smirked.

“Yeah, Jake Seresin. I'm a Lieutenant. My callsign is Hangman. I want to see my fiance.” He said, his voice gaining strength the more he spoke. The doctor smiled.

“Okay, Lieutenant. She's on her way. We'll bring her in as soon as she gets here. It's very important that you try to stay as still as possible. You have broken ribs and a broken collarbone. Try to sleep.” The doctor said and Jake sighed and blew air from his lips, placing his head back down against the pillows. He was extremely uncomfortable and as the doctor left, tears stung his eyes. He just wanted Sam here, now.

🛩🛩🛩

Bradley got out of his Bronco and headed up the stairs of Sam's house and knocked on the door. No answer. No dog barking either. He figured maybe she was out. He'd noticed her truck was there but her father’s wasn't. He waited a few more minutes and then heard footsteps hurrying to the door. It was her mom, Sarah. 

“Hi, Mrs. Kazansky, I was looking for Sam.” He said and she sighed deeply before glancing down.

“She’s not here, Bradley. She’s at Jake’s. Is he home?” She asked, a worried gaze settling over her features.

“He is. I was going to bring her to the hospital. He’s in pretty bad condition.” He explained and she took a breath, almost in relief.

“Well, at least he’s home.” She said, before shutting the door. Bradley thought the exchange was odd but instead of dwelling on it, he ran to the Bronco and hopped in. He headed to Jake and Javy’s. When he got there, her father’s truck was the only one in the driveway. He walked up to the front step and knocked, his hands in his pockets. He heard jingling and footsteps. The door opened and before he could say anything, Sam had nearly jumped into his arms, hugging him tighter than he thought possible.

“Hi, Sammy...” Bradley said, his arms going around her waist and pulling her close. When she pulled away, he kept his hands at her waist. “He’s in the hospital. I’m here to take you to see him.” 

“Fuck. Okay. Let me just make sure the puppies go to the bathroom and then they can stay here. I’m sure they won’t let me stay long.” Sam said, attending to the dogs. Bradley followed behind her, observing as she brought the puppies and Rocco out into the small backyard.

“Did you get puppies?” He asked and she nodded.

“Sort of. A friend of mine heard about everything that happened and he works with injured veterans and military guys. He and his wife donated the puppies to us.” She said and Bradley’s brow furrowed at the use of ‘us’ but then he realized she was talking about her and Jake as a couple. 

“I don't know that Jake needs puppies.” Bradley said as they headed back inside and Sam unclipped their leases. Rocco, the ever judgmental red devil, growled at him before following the puppies to the couch. They all climbed up there and spread out to relax. “Why does Rocco hate me?”

“Don't feel bad. He hates most people.” Sam said with a chuckle. She grabbed her phone and she locked up as they both stepped out into the sun. It was well into the afternoon now, and Sam kind of felt like she'd wasted the past few days waiting for Jake to come home. Sure she’d worked and she’d taken the puppies and Rocco for walks, but she’d mostly sat around and rotted in depression on Jake’s bed. It was then that she realized how much she really did love Jake, and she was going to make it a point to tell him.

“Here.” Bradley said as he opened the passenger side door to his Bronco. Without thinking, Sam hopped in. She figured it was probably best if she didn’t drive, as she could feel tears welling again. She glanced down at her phone, staying silent, eyes gazing out the window as Bradley drove. To Sam, it felt like the longest drive of her life. When they arrived, Sam couldn’t get out of the Bronco fast enough. Bradley was quick to stop her though. He took her hand. “Sam. He doesn't look good. He's all bruised and beaten up. I just want you to be prepared.” 

She scoffed and pulled her hand from his, going as fast as she could into the building. She needed to see him, now. A nurse guided her and Bradley to the elevator and told them to stop at the nurse's station on the third floor, which was by the ICU. In the elevator, Sam folded her arms across her chest.

“They're probably gonna tell him he needs therapy. I can't imagine him doing that.” Bradley mumbled and Sam shot a glare his way.

“I'm sure he'll do whatever he needs to, to get better.” She said and Bradley nodded.

“You know before the mission went south, he and I talked.” He said and Sam lifted her gaze to lock eyes with him. He spoke again. “He asked me to be there for you if he couldn't...if anything happened. I’m going to make good on that promise. Anything you need while he’s recovering, you just let me know okay?”

Sam made a small noise in agreement. When they stepped out of the elevator, she saw Mav and Beau sitting outside a room. She took a deep breath, feeling a surge of emotions come forward. She wasn’t prepared for what Jake might look like. She felt that in her bones. The butterflies in her stomach weren’t just the excitement of seeing him return home, they were also nerves fluttering, not knowing what to expect. The curtains to his room were closed and the door was shut. It looked as though the lights were off too. Maverick rose from his seat and placed his hands on Sam’s arms.

“You want someone to go in with you or are you okay by yourself?” He asked softly and Sam took another deep breath.

“I’m okay by myself.” She said and Mav nodded. Beau’s brows furrowed as he glanced toward the door. She slid the door open and Bradley watched as she paused, then closed it behind her. 

Jake was propped up on pillows. His arm was in a sling and the sheets were neatly folded across his legs and stopped at his torso, where she could see he had bandaging all the way around. He had IVs all in his other arm, and even in his hand, and his eyes were closed. His face had some bruising on his cheekbone, around one of his eyes and the side of his head. He had a bandage on the side of his head and on his collarbone. He had definitely lost weight and probably muscle with it. His breathing was steady and shallow. There was the beep of the heart monitor and the hum of people outside talking. She could make out the tone and cadence of Mav’s voice over everyone else’s. 

Sam walked to the side of the bed where his arm was free and she placed a hand under his. He was cold, a stark contrast to his normal ability to radiate heat. That scared her the most. Not the IVs, not the bruises. She’d only felt cold skin like this one other time. So, when Jake turned his head and opened his eyes slightly, it startled her, as if he’d risen from the dead.

“There’s my beautiful girl. I missed you.” He rasped and Sam couldn’t help the tears that came. She wanted to jump on top of him and do bad, bad things to him, but she would settle for a feather light kiss pressed to his lips. His lips...those were warm.

[buuberry00]

hello!! cld i request luka comforting reader after a nightmare ? thank u!

ahhh ofc!! so sorry for the late reply!!!!

--

cw: mentions of death/dying, alnst- canon lore (lots of trauma), panic attacks, mentions/implied of prolonged CA and CSA, sweet comfort in the end <3

--

Death was common in this setting.

Making friends and getting attached was pointless, when everyone was going to die eventually.

The aliens had obviously nit-picked favorites - Luka, Ivan - and left the rest to scrape off of the bottom of the can labeled 'please let me live, too'.

Day in and day out, every one had to practice their vocals and reach the top with hopes of becoming fan-favorites.

The favorites never die fast.

Luka, one of the favorites, had gotten attached to you almost instantly after meeting as children in the Anakt Gardens. He clung to your side, stuck with you through every vocal practice session, even now as adults, he clung to you.

Sure, he was a little more than obsessed with Hyuna - the young woman who escaped with Mizi a few years back - but that never changed your opinion (nor your feelings) for him.

Luka was kind, sweet, extremely intelligent and vulnerable. But he was also manipulative, and deceitful. That never changed, even as he got older.

You'd experienced a handful of your own issues with the aliens that now controlled the planet you once called Home, now called Hell.

You'd been passed around, from owner to owner, club to club, chains to chains, ever since you were just a child. You'd even started carving your own little wooden knives and kept it clutched to your chest as you slept - just at the age of six.

Luka knew. He saw you. Understood you.

One evening, as you slept side- by - side, Luka had noticed that you'd begun squirming and whimpering in your sleep. Your brows were pinched together, face covered in a thin layer of sweat.

Luka sat up - brain still fuzzy with sleep - and gently shook at your arm with hopes of shaking you awake.

"y/n," he mumbled, "wake up."

you jolted awake, eyes wide and breathing ragged as you choke and gasp for the air that suddenly seemed to leave your lungs. Luka's brows furrow, scooting closer to offer his presence as comfort.

"you were making sounds," he explains, voice raspy with sleep. "is everything okay? did you have a nightmare again?" a choked sob leaves your lips, to which Luka immediately wraps his arms around you and pulls you close into his side. He shushes you, rocking you back and forth, then side to side, then back and forth again.

"It's okay," he whispers. "whatever you dreamed about, its in the past. they can't hurt you. not anymore."

"I-I can't wash off their hands," you sob, voice weak and trembling - barely recognizable - curled into his side. "I can't get rid of their hands."

"I know," he whispers, squeezing you into his side. "I know. I know it hurts. I know. I'm here, okay? look at me," Luka tilts your head so you're looking up at him. your eyes are droopy and red, fat tears rolling down the apples of your cheeks.

"I know. Look at me, sweetheart, I know it hurts. But I'm here. You're here, in this moment. You're not there."

He pulls you close and squeezes your hip, letting you curl up into his chest. He welcomes you, blankets wrapped around you both like a cocoon of safety and security.

"I'm here," he kisses your forehead. "Try to go back to sleep. I'll hold you until you're sick of me."

--

I love him :<

-venus

[sleeplesswixard]

Can you do bezel x fem reader? My little jackass doesn't get enough love, if your okay with it, can you do something suggestive? You can come up with what ever you want to write. But if you aren't comfortable with that, can you just do some fluff Headcanons? Thank you! :)

Ofc!!! He doesn't gets enough attention and love lol, maybe ı'll do a oneshot with Fem!Reader after too don't worry :3

———

Bezel x Fem!Reader Headcanons!

Type:headcanons, fluff

Warnings: None!

Note: even if it's Fem!Reader, gender is not implied

He spoils you ROTTEN

His favorite thing is cuddling with you, he's touch starved and probably didn't touch a single soul in his life

Surprize hugs!

İf you're shorter than him(probably), he has to lift you to his height while squeezing the death out of you, not that like you complain though

İf you're taller than him than vice versa, loves to rest his head on your chest(not that way you pervs)

He tries to keep İscream and Fwench Fwy away from you (mostly because of İscream) as long as he can, he doesn't wants to involve you 'Demigod of chaos' and crap, doesn't wants to scare you or lose your mind

İscream probably founds a way to talk with you and probably bombards you with questions and jokes how did you managed to pull him

He's a great cook, especially loves doing pasteries

Cooks/bakes your favorite foods

İf you can't cook, he will teach you!

Likes to watch horror movies, but if you scared he won't force you to watch it!

He can be a jerk, but he's a gentleman as well.

Calls you "My dear", "Darling" "Love", "Sweetie" , and talks you more formally than he talks to others

Links his arm with you while walking with you (if you're tall enough to do that)

Puts you on his shoulders if you're shorter

he's the big spoon!

Surprizingly, he's not jealous AT ALL

He says "Love? Affection? Eugh... Couldn't be me." While cuddling with you(the irony)

He's really dramatic though, he will legit go coccoo if you'll get sick, even if it's just a small cold

You have to keep him from nagging Cheezborger

İf you love cats too he buys kittens to you and he probably takes care of them like they're you guys child😭

——————————————————————

Thank you for reading my fic!

İ'm sorry it's really short lmfao(⁠*⁠´⁠ω⁠｀⁠*⁠) English is not my first language i'm sorry if i have mistakes!!!❤️😭

[darylbae]

I LOVE YOUR DARYL ONESHOTSSS AAHHHHH

i wanna request another vampire Daryl x fem reader pretty pleaseee

I would write this myself but I do not trust my writing skills LOL. A basic summary would be a lone reader who kinda just travels around, and one night when seeking shelter from a thunderstorm she finds this guy named Daryl, barely alive, and nurses him back to health (as much as she can by feeding him rabbit and meat barely cooked per his request), before realizing that Daryl is a vampire but couldn't really care less ("There's dead people walking around and you think a guy sucking blood and being deathly allergic to garlic will astonish me?").

Maybe for some backstory the reader is looking for their dad (or something like that) who got taken by raiders, so she's traveling around trying to find him and killing anyone who gets in her way, so by the end Daryl and the reader make a deal that Daryl will help her, and she just has to provide the corpses.

Ofc, don't feel obligated to write this, I'm sure you get so many requests anyway 😭😭 Again, love your fics!

sweet thing — daryl dixon

in which you meet you make a deal with vamp!daryl, hoping to benefit each other

note: i hope this is what you wanted anon, and u are too kind! i am so grateful for every lovely comment i get, it really keeps me motivated to write.

The rain was pricking at your cold skin, eyes almost closed to keep the droplets from invading your sight, and there wasn't an end in sight. You had to find him. Your dad, the only familiar sight left in this damned world, was gone. You'd sat around a fire one night, sharing a can of beans, giggling about another guess the song game you'd been playing. Then you'd woken up, and he was gone. You knew he'd been taken, it wasn't hard to realize, his stuff still surrounded you as you cried into his jacket that morning. There had been raiders on your trail for a while, it was actually a group you'd split away from a while ago. Looking to drag you back in. Why hadn't they taken you too? You wondered every day since, all thoughts leading to you feeling too useless to anyone. So now you wander, hoping to find a lead to get you back on track to finding your dad again. You'd spotted a metal panel propped between two trees, it had almost resembled a hut, and it seemed the only shelter for miles. It'll do for tonight.

You'd lost count of the days now, it all consisted of walking, stopping to eat and drink, kill walkers. Still in the same God forsaken woods that you lost your dad in. The raiders typically stayed in wooded areas, easier to conceal themselves, which was proving to be true. Leaning against the coarse bark of the tree beside you, you'd sighed deeply and readjusted the gun on your hip. Another stolen prize from the raiders which had helped you immensely in escaping. It was time to search for a place to stay. It had started raining again, however much worse than it had last time. Thunder was booming around you, the rain quick to soak your clothes and your hair becoming stuck to your skin. In the distance you could see a shed, or what looked like a small house. Your brain had squeezed onto the hope of shelter, picking up the pace as you broke free of the woods. It was, in fact, a small home. A bungalow of sorts, good enough for you for a few nights. It didn't seem occupied, but you were still cautious, so you'd equipped your blade and held it up as you breached the door. It was worn down, seemingly vacant since outbreak. But in the corner, by a fireplace, you had spotted a shadow. A moving shadow. You hadn't thought it through, you just rushed over to the person, in hopes it would have been your dad. It wasn't. But it was a man, who seemed to be on Death's door. Wheezing in and out, shivering as his coat laid over his body, ghastly pale. You'd thrown your bag off your shoulder, ripping it open to find your makeshift First Aid kit. "Hey, you still awake over there?" You asked, incredibly surprised at your confidence around a stranger. A wounded stranger. He grumbled, giving you enough confirmation to keep administering First Aid. "This is gonna hurt like a bitch."

Turns out he'd been stabbed, too weak to patch himself up. These were all just guesses, as he'd remained silent in the corner ever since you'd gotten here. However, he stayed. Even as you went out to find some dry firewood, after the rain had stopped, he was still sprawled out in the corner of the room. You'd started a fire, and sat comfortably in front of it as you let your food cook and clothes dry. "Do you have a name?" You asked, glancing over to the man. He met your eyes for one second, pulling them away from yours in the next. He remained quiet. "If we're going to inhabit the same home for a while then the least I expect is some information." You spoke, stabbing the bits of rabbit with a stick on your improvised grill made of wire and clothing hangers. "Daryl." He mumbled, taking the coat down from his face and sitting up. It was nice to see more of his face now, and strands of his hair stuck on his face. His voice was smoky, gruff, kinda hot. You hadn't thought about someone like that since before the world ended. It had just been you and your dad, except for the group of raiders you'd abandoned. You smiled into the fire, happy you were making progress. "Want some rabbit?" You offered, waving the end of the stick over at him with a cooked chunk of rabbit meat. He shook his head. "I'll find my own food." "Come on," you huffed, "eat some damn food. You need it if you want to heal." "I like it rare." "How rare?" You asked, ready to chuck some more on the grill. "Not touched the fire kinda rare." You grimaced, gesturing towards the cut up meat on the floor next to you. He leaned forward, wincing as he held his stitches, and stole a few pieces for himself. It didn't satisfy him like you probably would, but this was unbeknownst to you, he had to sit in the corner and control himself. You'd been nice enough to keep him alive, so he owed you that much. "So why do you eat raw meat? Won't you get sick from that?" You questioned, done with your food for the night and just using the fire for warmth. He shook his head. Guess that was too far. Silence lay heavily on the pair of you, Daryl too interested in a crack on the wall, and you watching the flames dance in front of you. It was you making all the conversation, so you had assumed that was it for the night. You'd climbed onto the couch, laying as comfortably as you could, and closing your eyes, hoping to have a dreamless night. "Ya won't believe me. You'll run." You heard, and you'd sat up, facing Daryl who was now sat up, arms resting on his knees with his head dipped down slightly. "Why?" You asked. "Why would I run?" Daryl paused. He didn't want to be alone again. As new as you were to his life, he liked company above all else. Even if you were pushy. "I prefer humans." "You're a cannibal?" You shivered, sat up properly now, ready to make a run for it. "NO." Daryl answered, "well, kinda." "Vampire?" You asked. Judging by his silence, you were right. And it shocked you how... normal you were about it. "Okay." You laid back down, clothes still damp and uncomfortable. But sleep was catching up quick. "Ya ain't gonna run?" He asked, and there was a hint of innocence you could hear. Like a child that had been walked out on one too many times. "No," you answered, still laid down but eyes open and looking at him, "the world has ended, the dead are alive, and you think a guy sucking blood and being deathly allergic to garlic will astonish me?" "Myth." You smiled, happy to close your eyes again. "You gonna suck my blood?" He wanted to, so bad. He wanted to taste that sweet blood pumping around that pretty body. "No. Don't wanna hurt ya." Your heart quickened, and you were embarrassed how much of an effect this stranger was having on you. You needed some action. Bad.

The fire was out when you'd woken up, and the man in the corner, Daryl, was gone. You lifted your head, noticing the coat that had once covered him, was now covering you. Your cheeks tinged pink at the sentiment, as you'd sat up fully now, still keeping the coat nicely snug around you. He hadn't left, surely? You'd made your way outside, the heavy thud of your boots alerting him of your presence, as you'd found him on the porch smoking. "So you can still smoke, huh?" You asked, sitting down next to him and observing his demeanor. Even the way he moved was hot. "Same as you are, just different diet." "Guess that answers my question of how you're in the sunlight." You giggled, and you could almost see a smirk threatening to show on his face. "Want your coat back?" "Nah," he croaked, mid-inhale, "looks better on ya." You couldn't quite believe your life had come to flirting with a vampire in the apocalypse. "Going somewhere?" He asked, and he was a lot more talkative than yesterday. You shook your head. "All I've done is wander the woods for God only knows how long, I plan on staying for a while." Daryl knew it was a topic for another night. So he stayed silent. "Gonna find some dinner. Stay inside." He instructed, standing up and stubbing the end of his smoke. You nodded your head at him, planning on making this home a bit more homely.

Daryl had been gone a while, and you'd cleaned up the place a bit. Making it look not-so-run-down. And you'd even found a book, to accompany you as you waited on dinner. He'd returned back after sunset, having been gone all day. And you were becoming ravenously hungry. "Took you a while." You commented, slamming the book closed and getting up to get the fire lit. "Yeah, sorry," he grumbled, "see ya kept ya'self busy." He looked around at the space you were sharing, seeing it didn't look nearly as bad as it did when he found it. You had only just looked up at him, seeing a sleeveless shirt and being more interested in that than the deer slung around his neck. His toned arms, patches of blood and debris from hunting all day, it was enough to drive you mad. "Hey," he clicked at you, and you felt shameful, "eyes are up here." He joked, and you smiled awkwardly at him. "Ready to eat?"

You'd eaten a good amount of meat, both of you now sharing the couch. Shoulders touching, thighs touching, your heart was beating loudly in your ears. "What's got ya out here?" He asked, his gruff voice sending goosebumps up your arms. But the question was something you didn't know if you were ready to share the answer to. But Daryl could help, he could get you closer to him. Finding your dad again was all that matters. "It's been me and my dad for the longest time. We'd met up with a group of raiders a while ago, who did things we just weren't okay with, so we up and left in the middle of the night." You sighed, heart aching for your dad and wherever he was. "They've been hunting us since. And we settled down one night, and when I woke up, he was gone. Taken. I've been trying to find him ever since." Daryl's hand found your thigh, and you almost jumped at the contact. "I'm sorry." He offered his condolences, and the feeling of his hand on your leg was starting to catch fire. "Not your fault, unless you were a raider." You turned to him, and he shook his head, that smirk appearing once more. "What's your plan next?" "I'm not sure, I just needed shelter for a few nights so I could conjure a plan, until I found you." You admitted, a sweet smile upon your lips and you looked at him. Friendships tended to form a lot faster in the apocalypse, but you weren't sure what this was. Daryl was silent for a moment. "You given up?" "No. Never." "Well let's look for him, together." He suggested. "I'll rip through that whole group if I have to." "You'd help me?" You asked in disbelief. "I like ya company," he confessed, like a dirty truth, "wanna keep ya around. Gotta help each other out." You were beaming on the inside, if this wasn't confirmation of a friendship, then you didn't know what was. "What do I do for you?" Daryl looked at you, your sweet, innocent features, eyes full of curiosity and hope. You'd seen things, but you were truly broken yet. "Help me find bodies, people, not worthy of life, and I'll help ya find ya dad." He demanded, but his voice was low. You found yourselves inching closer together, and Daryl's thumb delicately dragged over your cheekbone. "Sweet thing. I'll help ya."

[lexiee176]

★ Christmas ★

•Warnings: Season one and two spoilers but who hasn't watched them tbh... Oh and a little swearing💔

•Mikey x reader

•This is my first fic ever! Ofc it's about Mikey hehe, I love him sm <3

I PUT SM EFFORT IN THIS BBSBAHAH

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

You and Mikey have been friends ever since you two were kids... Now Mikey is your boyfriend. He never had a girlfriend, actually... So he doesn't really know how to act. As your relationship strengthened, he started getting pretty clingy whenever you were alone. Other than being sweet, you two were a chaotic duo... In a good way, of course. As time passed, he started to open up a bit (but never completely), which was pretty weird since he had the tendency to always have his guard up, but you didn't mind. You knew how hard it was for him to be vulnerable...

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Today it's the 25th of December, midnight. Right after the fight with Taiju and Black Dragon. It's snowing.

You are standing next to Mikey. There's Emma, Draken, Takemichi and Hina too. You are surprised by how well Mikey handled the situation even after Baji's death...

He's smiling, looking at Hina and Takemitchy talking, and how Takemichi's apologizing to Hina desperately.

You glance at him, wondering what he's thinking about...

It's weird, how he always seems to manage keeping things together, but you know there must be more to that. You know he can't let his feelings take control. He's just like that...

You end up getting lost in your thoughts, your gaze still on Mikey, specifically his eyes. It's late when you realize you've been staring at him, as Mikey's already noticed it. He shifts his gaze towards you with a hint of curiosity.

"Uh? What's wrong?" He asks, a small smile on his lips.

You aren't sure what to say... You know he doesn't like talking about his feelings or the people he lost. Maybe you should try talking to him alone afterwards? Yeah... that's for the best...

"It's nothing..."

You answer, lying. You take his hand into yours, hoping that this little gesture could help him ease whatever's going through his mind.

"I just thought you looked really beautiful."

He chuckles a little, his hand squeezing yours.

"I'll never be as beautiful as you though..."

You can't help but smile at that comment of his. Damn it... He can be so sweet when he wants to. You love this side of him so much. You both remain in silence, holding hands. No words are needed between you two.

This interaction of yours doesn't go unnoticed by the others, but they decide to keep silent, except for Emma.

"You two are so cute!"

She says. Her tone isn't teasing, but it's still embarrassing... The thing is, some of the others even nodded or chuckled! Damn it, Emma...

In the end, you ignore her comment and start chatting with Mikey. It's all so tranquil and peaceful...

"Y/n, I'll go on a ride with Takemitchy, you can go home. I'm entrusting you to the others. I'll come see you later, yeah?"

He says, giving your hand one small squeeze before letting it go. You nod. Once you two were alone, you would've talked to him about that. Just as he starts dragging Takemichi with him, you remember something... The Christmas gift you had brought for him!

"Oh, wait a sec!"

He stops his tracks and his gaze falls back on you, tilting his head as you browse throughout the items in your bag, taking out a small box and handing it to him.

"I didn't get you anything, though..."

"It's fine, I hope you'll like it..."

"Then, I'll be sure to make up for it!"

With that said, he opens the box. Inside there are two identical necklaces, both with a star-shaped pendant and a small note, which says: "to symbolize our love ♡" He observes the necklaces and the note attentively, appreciating the gesture.

"One for me and one for you."

You step closer to him and take one of the necklaces, tying it around your neck. You take the other one too and help him put it on. He will most likely wear it 24/7...

"...Thank you, Y/n."

His smile softens as he takes the pendant into his hand. It isn't anything flashy, but it has a lovely meaning behind it. He'd probably always think of you whenever he looks at it.

"See you later then, bye-byee!"

He waves to you one last time, before dragging Takemichi with him again until they reach his bike.

Mikey starts the engine and drives Takemichi away. You greet the others and walk away too, heading towards your home.

A few hours later...

2AM

You are in your room, laying on your bed and trying to fall asleep but failing as your thoughts keep drifting to tonight's events and Mikey.

God, you know he's strong and all, and that he could take care of himself, well, sort of... But you can't help but worry about him. You know how much of a child at heart he is in reality...

Damn it, that guy is gonna give me a headache! (still love him tho)

Soon, your 'thinking session' gets interrupted by a small noise that came from your window. You get up and decide to investigate it. To your surprise, Mikey's standing outside, looking up at you and waving with a small smile on his face. He probably threw something at the window to catch your attention...

You decide to let him in, somehow... You aren't that far up, anyway. As he takes a step in, he takes off his shoes and greets you again. You straight up go to hug him, and he just reciprocates it, patting your head. After a minute or two, you pull back, smiling slightly.

"What are you doing here? It's 2AM..."

"Just wanted to spend a little more time with my favorite person. I told you I'd come see you, didn't I?"

Oh right, he did told you...

You chuckle as you remember. He's so unpredictable that it's adorable... Your expression falters as you realize this is probably the perfect occasion to talk to him, even though you feel a bit anxious about it...

"Hey, so... I just remembered something."

"Mhm, what is it?" He asks, his smile fading a little as he takes notice how serious you seem.

You are exploding. How could you approach the subject in the most delicate manner and without sounding like a complete idiot? Oh god... whatever, just go for it!

"...well, I can't help but feel worried about you, Mikey-Chan."

Mikey's eyebrows furrow slightly in feigned confusion, but deep down he knows exactly what you' re talking about.

"I don't get what you're talking about, I'm fine."

He says, forcing yet again a smile of his, which makes you feel like an idiot, as expected... But you know there's something up with him, you're not gonna get fooled by his facade!

You sigh and cup his cheeks, so you're staring at him dead in the eye. Now his stubbornness made you upset.

"You idiot... You're not gonna go anywhere if you keep hiding your feelings from everyone, y'know...?"

Jeez, I'm being such a hypocrite xd

Oh well, he doesn't know how to react to that... He just keeps silent and lets you elaborate further even if deep down he's scared shitless of showing his vulnerable side... oh he just couldn't.

"I just... I don't want you to be suffering alone when we share good moments together, it's not fair..." You say, taking a small break before continuing. "...I won't think you're weak if you feel down or anything, I won't ridiculize you either, and if I do, you have the permission to hit me."

At your last phrase, Mikey grabs one of your hands that was cupping his cheeks and speaks in a gentle tone.

"No y/n, I could never hit you... But maybe you're right. I'm going to die if I keep everything to myself, huh?"

He chuckles bitterly. For once, it seems like he's actually willing to let go of that facade of him and show you the real him. You thoght it would've been harder...

"Oh, and sorry for making you worry. I'll try."

He hugs you. You would've expected anything but this... Normally, he'dbrush everything off and either let his childish facade cover his disturbed soul or act reserved and distant. This side of him was rather... Refreshing.

You immediately hug him back, a small smile finally forming again on your lips.

"Promise?" You ask, your eyes glimmering with hope.

"Mhm." He simply answers with a nod and a hum. His right hand's now pulling a strand of your hair behind your cheek, while his other's still holding your waist.

You pull back a little and leaned closer, closing the distance and making you both share a kiss. He doesn't protest, nor did react much.

As soon as the kiss ends he opens his eyes again, which held gentleness within them. His cheeks are slightly flush... how cute. The hand that was touching your hair now caressed your cheek. The past minutes followed by simple yet meaningful gestures between lovers. No word spoken.

And before you know it, you wake up in your bed in the morning. Mikey's gone... You don't remember much from that night, but you can still feel his warm presence with you. You grab the necklace wrapped around your neck with a star pendant and looked at it... You already long for him to be with you, and can't wait to see him again just to tell him how much you love him and want to see him happy.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

End. ★

Btw yes I edited this to fix the verbs and other stuff :>

[shellkissed]

I could read your fics all day and all night. YOU ARE AMAZING. CAN YOU DO A READER X GREASER GANG??? I LOVED BOTH OF THE TILLY ACE FIC X FEM READER.

Author's Note: HAIIII! love your pfp btw its very golden. OFC ILL WRITE THIS FOR YOU!

The Zoo

Greasers x Reader

It was late at night, and the Curtis household was active — there were Coke bottles, half-empty on the table, a cigarette dying in someone's ashtray, and Steve and Soda yelling across each other about who was going to take the victory if Soda weren't driving like he "had a death wish."

You were sitting on the worn couch, your legs folded beneath you, in Darry's spare hoodie. Ponyboy was beside you, scribbling in a notebook as Two-Bit tried to read comics upside down from the armchair loudly.

You know," Two-Bit said, turning a page exaggeratedly, "if I were a superhero, I'd have beer powers. I'd fly, I'd fight, I'd—

"You would burp in the face of your enemies," you stated flatly, throwing a pillow at him.

"Exactly! See, she gets it!"

Dallas came in the front door without knocking, as was his habit. He threw his switchblade down on the table like it was his. "Anyone got any cigs?"

"Ask Steve," Soda breathed. "He's got a pack crammed in his sock drawer, under the good socks."

"They ain't your socks to give away," Steve growled, but he didn't mind.

Dally took the cigarettes, lit one, and leaned back against the wall. He looked at you.

You know," he said casually, "you and Ace are the only girls I've ever met who can handle this place.

You snorted. "You're not that hard to get along with, Dally.".

He cocked an eyebrow. "You're challenging me, sweetheart?"

Before you had a chance to answer, Johnny looked in through the back door. "I found the second flashlight! Now we can finish the ghost story."

"Yes!" exclaimed Pony, slamming his notebook closed. "I'm not going to bed tonight until I find out if the farmer was killed by the ghost or not."

"Didn't he already shoot the dog?" Ace asked.

Two-Bit was shocked. "*He killed the dog?" This is not right at all!"

"Not a real dog," Johnny said quietly. "It's only the story—"

"Still counts," Two-Bit stated emphatically.

Darry came out of the hallway with a towel slung over his shoulder. He appeared cleaned up from a shower and was tired of everybody. "If I see one single marshmallow stuck to my good pot again—"

"We're not having s'mores indoors," you said.

"Again," growled Dally.

Darry gestured at him with his finger.

But then he looked at you — and his tired face relaxed some.

"Are you okay?" he asked softly, coming closer. He always checked twice, even if they were in a hurry.

You nodded. "More than okay.".

He gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Good."

You didn't have a perfect home. Not really. It wasn't the sort where parents stayed up for you, or where you had a room with a lock, or a dinner table set for anyone.

But you had the Curtis house. You had Ace and Johnny’s quiet loyalty. You had Dally’s fierce protectiveness, Pony’s sweet curiosity, Soda’s warmth, Steve’s teasing, Two-Bit’s ridiculousness, and Darry’s quiet steadiness.

And on evenings such as these — when everybody was raucous and ebullient and yours — you did not care about anything else. Not at all.

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

Author's Note: I love the thunderbolts movie omg

[oddsnendsfanfics]

We All Have Someone to Love

Genre: Fan Fiction (The Last Kingdom)

Pairing: Finan/OFC

Warnings: Mention of Death

Rating: G

Length: Short Story

Disclaimer: a strict work of fiction, I own nothing except the original characters and the plot line. In no way am I affiliated to any of it.  

A/N: We have reached the end of the line for this crew, I debated hard writing this, but I really wanted to give Sibbe and Sihtric something good. They deserve it.

Goes along with We All Need Something to Hold On To  We’re All Broken Pieces and We’re All Gonna Be All Right

The Last Kingdom Master List

Footsteps heavy feeling as if he had cinder blocks for feet, Sihtric followed the stranger down the corridor, she'd came out asking for Sihtric Elflaedsson. The second he heard his name, the weariness was gone and he sprang to his feet. Attention on the young nurse, her purple scrubs were nearly too bright given the hour, a warm apology for startling him. His brother-in-law needed to speak with him. Stopping at a black door with a frosted glass panel on the side, she knocked gently. Before she could put her arm back at her side, Finan appeared in the door thanking her for fetching Sihtric.

“Twenty minutes. I'll knock.” She smiled warmly at the two men. “It's all I could manage at this hour.”

“Thank you, we appreciate it.” Finan smiled, his eyes red rimmed, and his face looked as if he hadn't slept in eight years. “Get in here, you arseling. You have no idea what I had to do to get twenty minutes with your ugly ass.”

Stepping into the room, Sihtric sniffed, the pungent scent of hospital assaulting his senses. He'd been here since Finan had called to say Sibbe had gone into labour. Ealhswith had urged him to go, despite not wanting to run out on their dinner date, this was the birth of his nephew, he should be there.

Osferth, Brida, and Thyra had met him in the car park, staying as long as they could, before deciding to head out two hours ago. Once they'd heard the news, they were content to leave. Not Sihtric, he would sit in that god awful chair in the dimly lit waiting room all night if it meant being there for his Sibbe.

“You look like shit.” He teased Finan, having been in those shoes twice before.

“Yeah, yeah.” Finan grumbled playfully, “stop insulting my beauty and come meet your nephew.”

Nephew. Sihtric's footsteps feeling as if his feet were still weighted on the ugly beige tiles, as he took cautious steps towards his twin sister's bed. She looked so small and fragile, at the same time she looked like a warrior who had returned from a victorious battle, as if nothing in the moment could touch her. Sihtric remembered seeing his wife a few hours after birth, like a damn goddess that nobody could ever compare to. Strong and brazen, it was such a sight.

“Sihtric,” Sibbe smiled softly, her eyes as red as Finan's, skin flushed. Her hair pulled into a soft braid and her arms wrapped around a small white and blue bundle, “I'm sorry for the wait, but I wanted you to meet him first.”

When Hindr and Elflaed had been born, Sihtric had insisted that nobody meet them until Sibbe. Knowing that her husband was a package deal with his twin sister, Ealhswith had happily obliged. Understanding the same deal, Finan was delighted to allow Sihtric the first meeting.

“It's okay, I don't mind. It really wasn't that long.” Sihtric stood next to his sister, stroking her sable hair. Sibbe laughed quietly, a yawn breaking through. Ten hours, sure not long at all. “You're well?”

“Mmm,” Sibbe nodded the bundle in her arms squirming. “They said everything went well, no issues. I know that mom wasn't far away.”

“I'm glad to hear that.” Giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze. He smirked at Finan, the man looked as if he would fall over at any second. “And you? How are you holding up?”

Sitting on the edge of Sibbe's bed, on the opposite side, Finan scrubbed his hands over his face, tugging at the end of his beard . “She did all the work, I am just here to support.”

“If you're tired, min elskede, then rest.” Sibbe leaned over her lips pressing against his disastrous bush of a beard.

Finan shook his head, he could rest once Sihtric was gone and their little one had his next meal. Even then, the cot that the nurse had been kind enough to set up wouldn't get much use. Finan had planned to spend his night in the chair next to his wife's bed. Whatever Sibbe needed, he was going to be right at hand to make sure she was taken care of.

“She did all the work, but trust me, once the emotions and adrenaline wear off, you're going to be just as exhausted.”

After Hindr had been born, Sihtric refused to leave Ealhswith for more than a few seconds at a time. They were his family and he would be damned if something happened and he wasn't by her side. Once they had left the hospital, Sihtric felt as though he could have slept for days – with a newborn that was nearly impossible, but he didn't mind. He would be up at every little sound his son made, wanting to be as hands on, to be the best father he could. By the time Elflaed had arrived, Sihtric and Ealhswith had a handle on being new parents. It didn't mean Sihtric was any less of a basket case during the birth.

“You need your beauty sleep.” Sibbe giggled, shifting her son in her arms. Rolling his eyes, Finan brushed the blanket back from his son's face, the baby soft cheek poking out enough for his uncle to get his first glimpse.

“Mo stór.” The Irishman's voice not breaking a tender whisper.

“Can,” Sihtric leaned over, gesturing to the baby, “can I see him?”

Holding her son with outstretched arms, Sibbe nodded to Sihtric. His eyes darting between Finan and Sibbe, as if asking for permission to take their most precious gift, Sihtric beamed as Finan gave him a slight nod. Accepting the baby from his mother, Sihtric skillfully took the newborn in his arms. Brushing the swaddling cloth back, Sihtric's breath caught.

Wrinkling his nose, he crossed his two toned eyes and groaned. “Sihtric?” Sibbe demanded.

“Oh the poor thing,” Sihtric chuckled looking up at Finan, “he looks like you.”

“You arse.” Finan scolded with a burst of laughter. Sibbe shook her head, muttering about how unfunny the two of them were being right now, causing her distress this soon after giving birth.

“I'm sorry,” Sihtric pouted at his twin. “He's...” he moved the newborn in his arms to get a better position on his hold, “He's gorgeous.”

“Course he is, he looks like me.” Finan scratched his chest, flinching when Sibbe hit his arm.

“Uncle Sihtric and Auntie Ealhswith are going to spoil you rotten. You wait until your cousins meet you, they are going to love you like crazy.” Sihtric whispered happily to the babe in his arms. “Your mama is one hell of a lady, your dad's not bad either.” Softly humming for a beat, he took it all in. “Your Uncle Osferth was nearly vibrating when he heard you'd been born. He can't wait to see you.”

“Did you call Uhtred?” Finan raised the question. The last time he'd saw his friend was the dinner he and Sibbe held. Sihtric had been around a few times to check on Uhtred and his children, making sure they were doing okay.

Sihtric nodded, his gaze never leaving the baby. “He and the kids have that flu, which is why he didn't come. He said once it's safe, he will come see him.”

“I'll call him in the morning.” Perched beside his wife, Finan unconsciously stroked her hair. A habit he had picked up, wanting to be as close to Sibbe as he could be at all times. “Oh, little one. You are something else.”

“Feidlimid.” Her voice hushed, Sibbe smiled at Finan. “Feidlimid, it means ever good. Feidlimid Sihtric Sibbesson.”

“Feidlimid.” Sihtric repeated the name. His heart thundering against his chest as the baby wiggled in his arms.

Holding the small infant in his arms, Sihtric gently rocked him back and forth, his voice hushed as he whispered sweet things for only his nephew to hear. Focused in their own little world, Sihtric and Feidlimid were oblivious to Finan taking their photos. A moment they would surely want to preserve.

Having two children had been nothing short of amazing, the moment Sihtric had held his own kids was astounding, His life after that moment never to be the same again. Each day he was privileged to watch those two children grow, to be able to shape them into the people they would become. Loving them with every fiber of his being. Nothing filled him with more joy and happiness than the two tornadoes that he had helped create.

Here, now, holding his twin sister's first child had been a whole other kind of love. A love for Sibbe and Finan, and for the babe in his arms. A sob choked in his throat, as he continued to rock his sister's son, tears unable to hold any longer. Sihtric could feel the hot tears rolling down his cheeks, sobs of happiness shaking his body. The last time he'd cried this much was the day Elflaed had came into the world.

For most of his life, he had done everything to see Sibbe happy. All he wanted was his sister to know she was loved, to love her as much as their mom had. Sihtric had wrestled with many demons, in reality and in his mind, for years. He never wanted his sister to feel those things. Holding her son, seeing the way Finan was looking at her, it was enough to hold Sihtric's heart in a vice grip.

“Finan,” without another word, Sihtric held Feidlimid out to his father. Scooping his son back from his uncle, Finan smiled wide at the tiny face before him.

“My dear sweet Sibbe,” Sihtric's voice heavy with tears, hugging his sister gently, he kissed the top of her head. “I am so proud of you. Mom would,” he paused sobbing into her hair, Sibbe's arms around her brother, tears streaking down her cheeks, “mom would love him.”

“Sihtric,” she cried, sniffling into his shoulder, “stop it. You're going to make me all red and puffy.”

Bouncing his new born in his arms, Finan stood by the edge of the bed, allowing the twins their moment. He had watched them come so far from the bruised boy and the optimistic girl that had crashed in his apartment. Scars healed, life went on, despite the twists and turns. He gently swayed his hips to move his son back and forth, the nurse would soon be knocking to tell Sihtric it was time to go.

“Mo chroi, time.” hating to break their moment, Finan cleared his throat, little Feidlimid being passed around yet again, this time resting in his mother's safe arms.

One last tiny touch on the cheek from Uncle Sihtric and he would leave the happy family to their rest. Sibbe knew that once he left, her brother would call his wife telling her that he'd be late. Driving the thirty minutes from town to sit on the damp grass, watching the sunrise from the graveyard. He'd sit by himself, talking to the stone that marked their mother's resting spot. He'd tell her how much he missed her and how much he loved her. Today he'd tell her about meeting Feidlimid and how happy he was that she'd sent a son to Sibbe.

Leaving his sister behind was going to be a bit difficult given the circumstances, but Sihtric knew she was safe. Finan would fight an army, with one arm behind his back, to keep his wife and son safe.

“Keep them safe.”

Hugging his brother-in-law tightly, Finan sniffled, teary eyed himself. “I'll take care of them, I swear. I will protect them until my last breath, Sihtric.”

Sihtric clapped his hands on Finan's shoulders, nodding. “I know that you will. I have spent so long protecting her, I'm glad it's you who took over.”

Every day, multiple times some days, Sihtric would silently thank his mother for giving them Finan and Ealhswith. He hated to even think where they would have ended up if he hadn't stumbled onto that Help Wanted Ad from the Two Cranes.

Peaking around Finan, Sihtric gave his twin a wave. Smiling through his tears, he blew his nephew a kiss. “I love you, all. I will let the others know that everyone is healthy and happy.”

“Good night, I love you, see you tomorrow?” Sibbe called, yawning and shifting in her bed. It was nearly time to feed her son.

“I will be here as soon as you tell me to come back.” A laugh rumbled in Sihtric's chest. “Now, my last piece of advice. One parent to another, enjoy this. Come tomorrow, that sweet and innocent bundle starts dictating your life for the next eighteen years.”

“Get out.” Finan held the door, laughing as Sihtric passed by.

Shutting the door, he turned to watch Sibbe. She sat staring in awe, her heart felt as though it was going to hammer from her chest. Finan stood, leaning against the door, arms folded over his chest. At nineteen had somebody told him this was the life he had waiting, he would have told them that they were crazy. If Gisela hadn't pushed him to just tell Sibbe how he felt...

Somewhere Gisela was enjoying this, probably far too much. Finan smirked. She had loved babies and was a sucker for a good love story. She had taken pride in her own, as she should have, Uhtred had been damn near feral when he'd married that woman.

Seeing how much his friend had loved the woman he'd lost, Finan wasted no time in his marriage. He wanted Sibbe to know how much he loved her every hour of every day. Even if she complained about the roses that showed up at their door every Wednesday. Secretly, Finan knew she loved the gift. As soon as he was allowed, he'd have a bouquet sent up for her room. Hearing a knock on the door behind him, Finan rolled his eyes, no doubt Sihtric had gotten to the elevator and realised he couldn't leave, not yet.

Stepping aside to open the door, Finan moved out of the way when the nurse who'd helped him fetch Sihtric smiled at him. “I hate to interrupt,” she spoke softly, “routine.”

“Come in, don't let me get in the way of doing your job.” Finan assured her, staying out of the way while she spoke to Sibbe and made those noises women made when they saw babies. Finan had never understood the whole baby talk, or why people got all giggly around them. He had held Uhtred and Sihtric's children as babies, but he had preferred them once they were old enough to play and run around.

Today, he got it.

He had found himself gushing at his son every time he held him.

His son.

The realization was there, yet not fully setting in. Every now and then Finan felt as though he would have to pinch himself, to be assured this wasn't a dream. He sat quietly listening to the nurse and Sibbe discuss feeding the wee lad, apparently he had an apatite. Of course he did, he was like his father. Sibbe gasped sharply and Finan sat straight up in his chair. His dark eyes wide and his heart in his ears.

“Mo chroi?”

“It's okay, Finan.” Sibbe's voice was calm. “He's just trying to eat.”

“Sometimes it takes a little bit.” The nurse spoke, her voice somewhat relaxing. “He's doing well, so are you.” She offered Sibbe the encouragement.

“His mama is always the strong one.” Finan chuckled, trying his best to hide the yawn that was creeping up.

“Well, being a first time parent can be scary. You seem to have a good support system.” Discarding some gloves and a few other items in the bin by the bed, the nurse glanced at Finan. “Your brother-in-law told me earlier that he has kids. Lots of cousins then?”

“A few.” Finan felt his pride swelling. Watching in wonder as those tiny little cheeks worked their hardest for their dinner, Finan couldn't take his eyes off of the baby resting against his wife's breast. God he was as perfect as his mama. Finally giving in to the tiredness that he'd been trying to hold back, Finan yawned and sniffled. Muttering his apologies.

“Once he's fed, he will probably want a nap himself. If you need, we can take him for a while during the night.”

“Take him where?” Finan glared at the poor nurse. “Where is he going?”

“Min elskede, Finan.” Sibbe didn't bother to lift her gaze from her son, to scold her husband. “He's safe, I promise.” Briefly glancing at the nurse, Sibbe gave her the most apologetic smile. Some times Finan couldn't help himself. “I think he's fine to stay here with me. I'll ring if I need anything.”

Seeing the nurse out, Finan muttered his apology, his eyes cast at the floor, he could feel Sibbe's gaze burning a hole in him. He may have overreacted. A tiny bit. Finan yawned again, trying his best to stay awake and alert. He didn't want Sibbe to lift a finger. Beyond feeding, there was nothing Finan couldn't take care of.

He'd heard the nurse telling Sibbe that tomorrow and the next day would likely be the hardest on her body, after what Finan had witnessed today, he found that somehow astounding. Tonight, he wanted Sibbe to rest and trust that he had everything under control. Their entire marriage, so far, Finan had never left her doubting his vows to give her everything. He would be so loving that she would get sick of him. She would never get sick of that handsome, currently sulking, Irishman.

“I don't want them to take him away.” His voice nearly cracked, wiping his thumb against his cheek.

“Finan, they were only going to take him to the nursery. If I needed them to. It's okay, min elskede. You need to rest, Sihtric is right, now everything is catching up with you.”

“Mo stór.” Tears gathered in the corner of his eyes, making their way down his weathered cheeks before disappearing into his beard. “I never want him out of my sight.”

“Come, min elskede.” Sibbe's eyes were red rimmed. Finan pulling at her heart. Patting the small space in the bed beside her, her eyes locked on her husband's. “Hold me.”

“Always, mo chroi.” Finan scooted into the space, adjusting to hold Sibbe against him. Their son in her arms, he stroked the top of Feidlimid's head, all that dark hair soft under Finan's touch. “I will never let you go, nor will I ever let you hurt, my dear sweet Sibbe.”

~Feidlimid pronounced Fay-Lim

tagging: @cacti123322

@deandoesthingstome

@whenimaunicorn

@ceridwenofwales

@pokeasleepingsmaug

@whitedarkmoonflower

@rogers060967

@geekandbooknerd

@tiyetiye

@therealcalicali

@sunshinepanic

@captstefanbrandt

@titty-teetee

@fuckoffbard  (people who read the originals *shrug*)

[misshoneyimhome]

➼｡ﾟ Love Me Harder I William Nylander

[Pilot] [Chapter One]

Tropes & Warnings: William Nylander x ofc, fake relationship, no warnings (Language maybe?)

Author's note: So, I'm def excited to share the build-up to the main plot of this story with you – I hope the banter makes as much sense as it did in my head 😉 As always, I hope you enjoy it! 🌺

Word count: 5.1K

➼｡ﾟ

"And I know she'll be the death of me, at least we'll both be numb. And she'll always get the best of me, the worst is yet to come"

___

The Blue Bovine Steak and Sushi House exuded a tranquil ambiance on this quiet Thursday evening. The warm, soft lighting cast a serene glow over the polished wooden tables and sleek bar, creating an inviting atmosphere that enveloped the few remaining guests. Samantha, tending the bar, found herself with a rare lull in the evening's activities — the only discernible sounds emanated from a semi-private dining area where a group lingered over their late dinner. Their voices provided a backdrop of contentment, blending with the gentle clinking of cutlery and occasional bursts of laughter that filled the cosy space.

At the bar, Sofie sat perched on a stool, keeping Samantha company as the restaurant slowly approached its closing hours. It was nearing 10:30 pm, and most of the guests had already departed, leaving only a few occupied tables scattered across the dining area. And this pleasant lull allowed Samantha and Sofie a moment to converse uninterrupted.

"Holy fuck! I can’t believe Anthony’s pulling that shit on you," Samantha leaned back against the counter, her arms crossed and her voice edged with irritation.

Sofie sighed, swirling the remnants of her white wine in its glass. "I know… I mean, there’s really no reason for it. We’ve been broken up for what? Over a year now…"

"That piece of shit," Samantha muttered, shaking her head in disbelief. "I mean, after everything he's already put you through?"

Sofie nodded slowly, her expression a blend of resignation and frustration. "Yeah, well, when you’re a cunt, might as well be a cunt through and through, right?"

Reaching out she squeezed Sofie’s hand. "You deserve so much better, you know that, right? Don't let him mess with your head like this."

Samantha Denise Adams was the epitome of a best friend to anyone navigating turbulent waters. Her outgoing nature made forming connections effortless, and her honesty and vibrant personality often elicited strong reactions from others - either adoration or envy. And when Sofie moved out from Anthony’s place a year ago, Samantha's welcoming embrace and spare bedroom became her sanctuary.

A soft smile graced Sofie’s lips as she set her glass down with a gentle clink, meeting Samantha’s gaze with gratitude. "I know… It just… took me by surprise, you know?"

Samantha nodded empathetically, her expression softening. "Well, fuck him."

The two friends shared a laugh, Sofie nodding in agreement. However, their moment was interrupted by sudden loud cheers and boisterous shouting from the back, grabbing their attention. The noise cut through the otherwise serene atmosphere, injecting a burst of energy into the restaurant.

“Wow, sounds like they’re having a good time,” Sofie remarked, a smile spreading across her face as she turned slightly on her stool to glimpse the source of the commotion.

“Yeah, it’s Mitch Marner and some of his hockey teammates,” Samantha explained with a grin. She leaned back against the bar again, her posture relaxed yet attentive. “One of the perks of running a classy place like this, I guess.”

“Hmm, I suppose so. Who knew that much testosterone and cockiness could fit in one room?” Sofie chuckled knowingly, prompting Samantha to burst into laughter and playfully roll her eyes.

“You still have a thing against hockey players, eh?” Samantha teased.

Sofie chuckled and raised her hands slightly in mock defence, her eyes wide with feigned innocence. “What, no. I mean, it’s not like I dislike them…”

“But?” Samantha prodded, crossing her arms.

Sofie sighed lightly. “But… Nick has always been pretty clear about how his hockey buddies behave. And unfortunately, despite being eye candy, most of them have proven him right.”

Samantha grinned mischievously, the dim lighting casting a playful gleam in her eyes as she leaned closer to Sofie across the bar counter.

“Nick’s your brother, Sof. Of course he’d say anything to keep you away from his hotshot teammates and friends,” she teased, earning a chuckle from Sofie.

“Hmm, you’ve got a point there. But it’s not like you’re the greatest fan either, I mean let’s not forget about your ex… he was a piece of shit as well.”

Samantha’s playful demeanour softened slightly at the mention of her ex. She sighed and shook her head ruefully, her expression tinged with both annoyance and resignation. “Yeah, guess you’re right about that.”

The noise from the hockey players swelled briefly, punctuated by laughter and the clinking of glasses, before settling back into a comfortable background murmur. Samantha glanced over her shoulder towards the group, a fond smile crossing her lips.

“But you know,” she then began, turning back to Sofie with a thoughtful look, “sometimes they surprise you. Underneath all that boyish charm and competitiveness, some of them are actually pretty decent guys.”

Sofie arched an eyebrow dubiously, a smirk playing on her lips. "Decent, perhaps. But trustworthy?" She paused, her gaze narrowing slightly. "I've seen enough to know better."

"Fair point,” Samantha nodded. “But hey, Mitch Marner isn’t too bad. He’s actually a kinda cool off the ice."

Sofie’s smirk softened into an amused smile. "I’ll take your word for it." She glanced at her watch, noticing the late hour. "Speaking of nothing, looks like it’s closing time soon. Think they’ll finish up anytime soon?"

Samantha shrugged casually. "Probably not. You know how these guys are when they gather."

"Well, at least they keep things lively around here," Sofie remarked, taking another sip of her wine.

Samantha chuckled softly. “That’s for sure. And speaking of lively, I think I’ve got just the thing to perk you up after dealing with Anthony’s shittyness today.” She disappeared briefly behind the bar, returning with a small, beautifully crafted shot glass.

“What’s this?” Sofie asked, curiosity piqued as Samantha placed the drink in front of her.

“Trust me, you’re going to love it,” she replied with a wink, a mischievous sparkle in her eye. “Consider it a special treat from your favourite bartender.”

Sofie simply smiled, raising the glass in a toast. “Alright, Sam. Here’s to surviving exes.”

“To surviving them,” Samantha echoed with a grin, clinking her own glass against Sofie’s before both women downed their shot.

And as the two continued chatting and laughing, one of the hockey players from the group suddenly strolled up to the bar, his confidence evident in the smooth rhythm of his steps. Approaching the bar, he positioned himself next to Sofie, casually leaning on the counter - a subtle display of his muscular physique beneath the high-end yet casual attire that effortlessly complemented the upscale atmosphere of the Blue Bovine.

Samantha, always the consummate professional, greeted him with a warm smile. "Hi there, what can I get for you?"

"Could we get four more beers and some water?" His voice carried a hint of familiarity, his eyes briefly flickering to Sofie before returning to Samantha.

"Absolutely," Samantha replied warmly, already reaching for the tap.

Meanwhile, Sofie finished the last drops of her wine and caught a glimpse of the man's familiar face in the mirrored bar backdrop. She turned her head, meeting his confident grin head-on, her eyes narrowing slightly in recognition.

He was unmistakable - the slight wave in his semi-slicked back blonde hair, his tall and broad figure exuding an air of quiet authority, and, of course, that familiar smirk that hinted at both mischief and confidence. It was none other than William Nylander.

And immediately, he recognised her too. How could he not? Her long, styled blonde hair cascaded down her back in gentle waves, framing her piercing blue eyes and soft pink lips. Her makeup was subtle, and her outfit blended casual with a touch of professionalism.

"Oh, it’s you," he remarked with a grin, turning his head.

Turning hers to meet his gaze, Sofie replied coolly, "Good eyes you’ve got there, huh.”

"I knew you were stalking us," William teased playfully, leaning in slightly closer.

"What? No way… I’m just here, chatting with my friend," Sofie retorted smoothly, unruffled by his playful banter.

William raised an eyebrow with a mischievous smirk. "Is that so?"

"Yes, that is so," Sofie affirmed, her voice steady as she maintained eye contact with him.

Curiosity then piqued and Samantha couldn’t help but interject, “Do you two know each other?”

“No,” both Sofie and William replied simultaneously.

“We just bumped into each other one evening by the hotel - I believe I’ve mentioned it,” Sofie explained to Samantha, subtly emphasising the word ‘bump’ which earned a knowing smirk from the hockey player.

“Yeah, it was quite the bump,” he added with a grin, mischief dancing in his eyes, as they each had their own versions of the encounter.

"Ah, got it," Samantha nodded, recalling Sofie's mention of an encounter yet without specifics. But then as she poured the first pint of beer, she noticed it was starting to run low. "I’m sorry, but I need to quickly head to the back and change the keg."

Sofie glanced at Samantha curiously. “Didn’t Jerry just do that an hour ago?”

"Uhm, nope, don’t think so," Samantha quipped swiftly before darting off, leaving the two strangers momentarily alone.

Sofie and William exchanged a brief glance, silently acknowledging their unexpected second encounter. But then Sofie let out a light sigh, absentmindedly toying with the stem of her wine glass as she spoke softly yet firmly. “You know, I’m sure Sam will bring you the drinks, so you don’t have to stand here and wait.”

William chuckled softly, “I don’t mind waiting. Need a break from the guys anyway.”

“Right…”

Yet, as William continued laughing softly, curiosity flickered in Sofie's eyes. “What’s so funny?” she asked.

“Nothing. Just didn’t realise you were this afraid to be alone with me,” he teased.

“Well, maybe I’m just afraid you’ll bump into me again,” she retorted sharply, her tone holding a hint of lingering annoyance.

William's expression tightened slightly. “Don’t worry. You're not blocking a door. Besides, I didn't push that hard,” he said firmly.

Sofie let out a huff. “Sure you didn’t.” 

There was another brief pause, but then she decided to speak again, her voice softer yet tinged with hesitance. “I am… sorry though…,” she added, looking down at the glass in her hand. “I’m usually not like that. I just… I needed to step away from the engagement party, get some air - and I guess I just wasn’t paying attention.”

William couldn’t help but flash a satisfied smirk at her apology. “Wasn’t so hard, was it?” he said. “To say you're sorry.”

“I suppose not,” Sofie chuckled, unimpressed. “But at least I meant it. Not like your half-hearted apology; but I guess that's all one can expect from a Starboy like William Nylander.”

William frowned slightly. “You know who I am?”

“Of course I do,” Sofie chuckled lightly, again rather unimpressed. “I haven’t been living under a rock.”

“Well, I thought maybe you didn’t, considering how rude you were to me,” William pointed out, before adding, “Or maybe you were just pretending not to recognise me just to impress me.”

Sofie raised an eyebrow, meeting his gaze with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. “And why the fuck would I pretend not to recognise you just to impress you? That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Oh, you'd be surprised what girls would do just to get my attention,” William grinned confidently, prompting Sofie to roll her eyes.

“You certainly do have confidence, Starboy.”

“Maybe. But at least I have a reason to,” he responded simply, his grin widening slightly, which earned another chuckle and eye roll from Sofie.

However, interrupting their casual banter, Samantha then returned with a satisfied smile, having successfully changed the keg. "There we go, all done. Now, four beers?" she confirmed.

And as she poured the last pint, Mitch Marner suddenly approached the bar as well. "Hey man, what’s taking so long?" he asked his teammate.

William shrugged with a grin. "Oh, just something about changing the keg," he replied, earning a nod from Samantha as he picked up two of the beers and the water.

"Alright, well let’s head back then," Mitch said with a wide smile, grabbing the last two beers before leading the way back to their group.

And as the hockey players walked away, Samantha glanced at Sofie with a raised eyebrow. "Well, that was interesting," she remarked with a hint of mischief.

Sofie looked genuinely puzzled. "What was interesting?" she inquired, tilting her head curiously.

"Uh, just you and William Nylander?"

Sofie rolled her eyes unbothered. "What about me and William Nylander? Come on, he’s just as overly confident and obnoxious as the rest of them."

But Samantha just chuckled knowingly. "Doesn’t mean he wouldn’t be one hell of a fuck."

"Yeah, I’m sure he is," Sofie replied dryly, her tone tinged with amusement, "but I’ll let the rest of the girls of Toronto be the judge of that. Or boys… or whatever.”

Samantha laughed, shaking her head as she returned to her duties behind the bar. The two girls then continued to chat for a little longer, agreeing that Sofie could just wait back home since Samantha didn’t know when she’d get out of there. So, before heading out Sofie then excused herself to use the restroom. And to her great amusement, as she stepped into the small hallway, there stood William, busy fixing his blonde locks in front of the mirror.

"Careful there, Starboy. Cracking the mirror gives you seven years of bad luck," she teased as she walked by him.

William smirked at his reflection. "Maybe I’m willing to take that risk," he replied, his tone laced with playful defiance. Yet, a subtle smile played on his lips. As much as he hated to admit it, there was something intriguing about this girl. Perhaps it was the way she challenged him, a refreshing change from the attention-seeking behaviour he was accustomed to. Or maybe he just found her genuinely amusing.

"Oh really? Seven years of bad luck just for a perfect hair day?" Sofie countered, raising an eyebrow.

"Life's too short for superstitions," William shrugged casually. “Besides, I’ve always got good hair.”

"And here I thought all hockey lads were superstitious. But I suppose you're not like the rest of them, are you, William Nylander," Sofie remarked sarcastically, playfully accentuating his name with a hint of Swedish intonation.

William chuckled again. "And you're not like most girls I meet."

"Is that meant to be a compliment?" Sofie tilted her head, a mischievous sparkle in her eyes, earning a wink from William.

"Take it however you like," he replied simply, his smile widening as he started to walk away.

Sofie let out a small laugh. "Well, thanks... I think."

As she entered the women's restroom and closed the door behind her, Sofie couldn't help but ponder the encounter. There was something about William that was undeniably intriguing, despite his self-assuredness. Sure, he was good looking and she knew he was a good planter too. However, shaking her head, she quickly brushed it off, reminding herself that he was just another obnoxious hockey player.

And as the swede rejoined his teammates who were gradually preparing to depart, a thought suddenly crossed his mind; Could Sofie be a potential candidate for his plan? Firstly, she didn't seem particularly interested in him, which was crucial. Secondly, he wasn't particularly interested in her either. And thirdly, she didn't appear to crave attention from hockey players, unlike many others in his life.

While William pondered this idea, Sofie returned from the restroom and exchanged final words with Samantha, who was just finishing her shift. And with a smile and “you’re welcome” for being her company, Sofie headed out, leaving Samantha to close up the bar.

However, just as Samantha completed the last tasks - cleaning the soda machine, drink mixers, and washing the final load of glasses - she turned around to find William standing there, suddenly grinning at her.

"Oh, hey there, William. What can I do for you?" She asked politely, aware that hospitality extended to close friends and teammates of Mitch's even after closing time.

William paused, considering how to approach the topic before speaking. "So, that friend of yours," he began, leaning casually on the bar counter. "She single?"

Samantha was slightly surprised but couldn't suppress a smile. "Sofie? Yeah, maybe. Depends on your intentions," she replied, curious about where the Swedish forward was going with this.

There was a brief silence as Samantha finished closing up the bar and William just stood there, deep in thought. And sensing the awkwardness, Samantha decided to break the silence. "So... did you need anything?"

William shook his head slightly. "Huh? Um, no... not really," he cleared his throat. "I just thought your friend was... interesting."

Raising an eyebrow, Samantha looked at the hockey player with curiosity, meeting his gaze. "Oh, she's definitely interesting. Just... maybe not for you." 

Her protective instincts surfaced. While part of her was intrigued by the idea of playing wingwoman, she also restrained herself to avoid overstepping any boundaries she knew her roommate might have.

"Hmm," William replied with a chuckle. "Maybe I could... persuade her," he added playfully, prompting Samantha to chuckle lightly.

"Yeah? Good luck with that," she said, her tone sceptical.

But William only took it as a challenge. "Maybe it’s worth a shot."

There was another pause, and Samantha pressed her lips together, considering her next move, before she finally decided to take a small risk. "You know, she'd probably kill me if I ever gave her number to a stranger, but... if I were to show you a photo from her Instagram and you happened to notice her name, you could do whatever you'd like with that information."

William chuckled again, nodding as he found the idea smooth and harmless. "Guess so."

Samantha then took out her phone, finding a photo she thought William might appreciate. 

"Maybe you see something you like," she said softly. "I mean, she's not like Amy over there," she chuckled, nodding towards a tall, slim brunette with heavy makeup and long, thick false lashes. She was a waitress there, someone she knew some of the hockey players had spent private time with.

But William just nodded, biting his lower lip. "Oh, definitely. I've seen what I need to see." 

And with a final chuckle, the hockey player left the restaurant with the others.

As Samantha headed home from work, she felt a small pang of guilt. She knew Sofie wasn't particularly interested in dating at the moment, especially not a hockey player. However, she did like Mitch Marner whenever he was around. So, she reasoned that whoever he decided to spend time with must at least be as friendly as him. So, as she walked towards the metro station, she convinced herself that her actions as a wingwoman were justified.

___

Friday, October 11th

"Oh, she's perfect, bro!" Alex chuckled from his perch on a high stool by the kitchen counter, watching as William rummaged through the fridge, searching for something to eat before heading out for training. The morning sun streamed through the window, casting a warm glow over the sleek countertops.

"Hmm, I'm not so sure," William replied thoughtfully, grabbing a carton of almond milk and a tub of protein powder from the pantry as he started making his protein shake.

"Why not? She's fit, not some crazy fangirl, and definitely not one of those waitresses at Mitchy's restaurant you’ve hooked up with too many times," Alex pointed out, grinning as he placed William’s phone on the counter.

William had shown him Sofie’s Instagram profile; a woman who seemed genuinely indifferent to the fact that he was an NHL player. Which, according to Alex, made her perfect for their plan.

But William sighed, shaking his head slightly as he poured the protein powder into the blender, adding a handful of fresh berries. "Yeah, but I’m not sure if she’s really what I’m looking for. She’s kind of… annoying."

Alex's laughter filled the kitchen. "Come on, man, you’re overthinking it. She’s cool, grounded, and not desperate for attention like the others. If you don’t make a move, I will!"

William paused, considering Alex’s words as he pressed the button on the blender. "Hmm, I guess she did seem kinda cool," he admitted, thinking back to Sofie's sharp wit and how she didn’t act starstruck around him.

"Exactly," Alex encouraged, taking a sip from his pre-workout drink. "Just give it a shot. What’s the worst that could happen?"

William took a sip of his protein shake. "Alright, I’ll think about it," he said finally. "But I’m not making any promises."

"Fair enough," Alex replied with a grin. "But trust me, you won’t regret it."

Glancing at the clock, William realised it was time to head out for training. So, he quickly finished his shake, grabbed his gym bag, and made his way to the door. As he rode the lift down to the car park, thoughts of Sofie lingered in his mind. Maybe Alex was right. Perhaps she was worth taking a chance on.

___

Sunday, October 13th - WSH 2 @ TOR 3

It was a vibrant autumn evening at Scotiabank Arena, where the Toronto Maple Leafs faced off against the Washington Capitals in their much-anticipated home opener of the season. Samantha and Sofie, nestled among a sea of fans donning the iconic blue and white jerseys, soaked in the electric atmosphere from their prime seats—a birthday gift from Samantha to Sofie for her 29th birthday in early September.

As the puck dropped, the arena buzzed with excitement, sparking a rapid exchange of plays between the two powerhouse teams. From the very first period, the game was nothing short of gripping, with both sides showcasing their offensive prowess through relentless attacks and sharp defensive manoeuvres. The crowd erupted with every shot on goal, each save by the goalkeepers, and every breakaway attempt, fuelling the players on the ice with unwavering support.

And as the game unfolded, goals were traded between the Leafs and the Capitals, each score met with either raucous cheers or disappointed groans, depending on which team benefited. The Capitals, known for their aggressive style, tested the Leafs' defence to its limits, while Toronto's talented forwards seized scoring chances with finesse.

Yet, in the third period, with the score tied, the Leafs cranked up their offensive pressure. The crowd reached a fever pitch as Toronto broke the deadlock with a decisive goal, sending the arena into a frenzy of cheers and applause. Despite the Capitals' best efforts to equalise in the closing minutes, Toronto's defence held firm, securing a hard-fought 3-2 victory.

As the final buzzer reverberated through the arena, signalling the end of an exhilarating match, Samantha and Sofie joined the crowds streaming towards the metro station, still buzzing with excitement from an incredible first home game of the season.

Meanwhile, near the Leafs' locker room, William was still riding the high of adrenaline, replaying the key moments of the game in his mind. Despite the intensity of the match, he managed to find a few moments to catch up with his best friend, Rasmus Sandin, who now played for the Capitals.

And after such a performance, William had a post-game routine that included cooling off and some rehabilitation, often with an ice bath. So now, sitting alone in the empty locker room with only a towel around his waist, he reached for his phone. And with a quick swipe, he opened Instagram, ready to unwind and catch up on social media after the intense match.

Yet, as he scrolled through his feed, a thought struck him. Though not usually one to snoop, he couldn’t resist checking Sofie's profile, and to his surprise, she had posted a story. Giving in to his curiosity, William tapped on the colourful circular icon and watched the video unfold. Where he then saw Sofie, seated in the stands next to Samantha, surrounded by cheering fans, clearly enjoying the game.

A grin spread across William’s face. The idea that Sofie had been at the game amused him more than he expected. And as he continued to watch her story, taking in the snippets of the match she had captured and the infectious energy of the crowd, he noticed something peculiar—her jersey number was 31. 

William’s grin widened. “So she’s a Freddie fan,” he thought, recognising the number as that of former Leafs goalie Frederik Andersen. It was a small detail, but somehow it added to the intrigue he felt towards her. Shaking his head in amusement, he put his phone away, the image of Sofie at the game lingering in his mind as he headed off to the ice bath.

_

Later that evening, after a peaceful walk with his beloved dogs, William returned to his condo, where the soft, ambient light of the lamps cast a warm glow over the living room. He sank into the comfort of his couch, the events of the day still buzzing in his mind, yet his quiet moment was interrupted by a message notification from his brother.

Alex: Great game tonight, bro! How’s the love game coming along? 😉

William sighed and typed back.

William: Nothing’s happened yet 🤷🏼‍♂️ Alex: What? Why not? William: Just didn’t know what to say, I guess. Alex: Oh come on, bro! Just slide into her DMs 😉 William: Alright, chill bro 🧘🏼

With his brother's words echoing in his mind, William opened Instagram once more and navigated to Sofie's profile. And as he scrolled through her posts, a smile played on his lips, as he then tapped the message icon and typed out a quick message.

williamnylander: Did you enjoy the game? 😉

With that, he sent the message, leaning back into the couch, a mix of anticipation and curiosity swirling within him.

-

Across the city, Samantha and Sofie were chatting on either side of the kitchen counter in their small shared apartment, where Sofie was whipping up some late-night pancakes when her phone suddenly buzzed with a notification.

"What the fuck," she exclaimed in surprise.

"What's up?" Samantha asked, leaning over the counter, intrigued.

Sofie stared at her phone, stunned. "William Nylander just messaged me on Insta…"

"No way! What does it say?"

"He’s asking if I enjoyed the game tonight," Sofie explained, her voice tinged with disbelief. "How did he even know I was there? Did he see my story or something... wait, how the fuck did he find my account?"

Samantha tried to conceal any signs of prior knowledge, but Sofie quickly picked up on her roommate's subtle cues.

"Did he... say something the other night at the restaurant?" Sofie asked, her curiosity piqued, narrowing her eyes suspiciously at Samantha. "After I left."

"Oh... um..." Samantha hesitated, trying to find the right words.

"Oh my god, he did!" Sofie exclaimed. "What did he say?"

"Nothing, really!" Samantha protested. "I mean... okay, he asked if you were single... and then," she paused, gathering her thoughts.

"And then what?"

"Well, I told him you were single, but I also mentioned that you probably weren't his type... so he shouldn't bother trying anything," Samantha confessed, exhaling deeply.

Sofie was momentarily speechless. "Oh, okay. But how did he find my Instagram then?"

Samantha let out a defeated sigh, realising she couldn’t avoid the truth. "I might have... possibly, maybe, shown him a picture where he could have seen your name..."

"Sam!"

"What? I didn't think he'd actually message you! I was just... I don't know, trying to help?"

Sofie sighed again. "Hmm... Well, he did message me. So now what do I do?"

"Well, you reply, of course," Samantha suggested with a chuckle.

"No, I mean... what should I reply?"

"I don’t know, maybe say you had the most amazing time ever?" she teased.

Sofie considered the suggestion for a moment but decided on a different approach. carefully composing her response, her fingers hovered over the screen.

bochy.lacour: Oh wow, so who's stalking who now! 😂

Letting out a sigh, Sofie flipped the last pancake as she waited for a response. Yet, William's reply came quicker than expected.

williamnylander: You, of course! You came to see me tonight 😉

With Samantha’s curious eyes on her, snacking on a pancake, Sofie replied simply.

bochy.lacour: Oh, right I went to the match just to see you 🙄 williamnylander: Hah, knew it! bochy.lacour: 🙄🙄🙄

Once again, Sofie let out a sigh.

"What's up? What's on your mind?" Samantha asked, grinning widely.

"It's just weird, isn't it?"

"Well, if you're unsure, just ask him what he wants. Be bold, Sof," Samantha said confidently, taking another bite.

bochy.lacour: Did you seriously message me just to say you're stalking me now? williamnylander: maybe 😉 and to ask you out for coffee

Sofie nearly choked on her pancake when she read his message.

"What? What's happening now?" Samantha asked quickly, stepping around the kitchen counter to peer over Sofie's shoulder. "Oh my goodness!"

Sofie gasped nervously. "What the fuck is wrong with this guy?"

bochy.lacour: What? Why? williamnylander: 😂  williamnylander: as an apology for bumping into you with the door 😉

Sofie sighed again as she glanced at Samantha, who was clearly enjoying this more than she was.

"What? Don't you trust him?" Samantha teased.

"Well, I don't know... should I?"

But Samantha, in a playful mood, simply snatched the phone from Sofie’s hand. "Of course! Let’s do it, it’ll be fun for you," she giggled, returning to her seat across from Sofie and responding on her behalf.

bochy.lacour: Alright then 🙂 when and where?

William, surprised that Sofie had agreed so quickly, smirked as he thought about his schedule for the next few days.

williamnylander: Tomorrow at 9? bochy.lacour: I’m at work at 9 - how about 7? Or 6:30? williamnylander: That's early! 😅 bochy.lacour: Well, sorry Starboy, but some of us have regular work schedules 🙄

William chuckled at the nickname, deciding he liked it even if she was being sarcastic. Glancing over at his beloved doodles lounging beside him and after a moment’s thought, he realised he’d need to take his dogs out early anyway.

williamnylander: Alright then 7. I’ll send you the location of a spot I know 😉 bochy.lacour: Sure 🙂

Sofie turned to Samantha with a resigned expression as she retrieved her phone. "I can’t believe you just did that."

"What? You mean helping you score a date with hockey starboy William Nylander? Come on, give me some credit for being a wingwoman!"

Sofie couldn’t help but smile slightly, though she rolled her eyes and sighed. "Fine, you get the credit—but just so you know, this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind."

"Of course it was, babe—seriously, if this was primary school, you two would be running around and he’d be pulling on your pigtails," Samantha said playfully before adding, "besides, maybe this is good for you—getting out there and not thinking about Shitface and his stupid wedding."

And Sofie could only agree to that sentiment. So, nodding slightly, she took another bite of her late-night snack. "Maybe you're right... but still, let’s not get ahead of ourselves, it’s just coffee, and it’s still super weird."

[crabs-with-sticks]

Six Song Soundtrack

Was tagged by @megthemariner so enjoy my problematic fave, Electra :D

Rules: If you're tagged, make a post with links to music and/or lyrics describing six things/ events about your OC/story.

Event that defines your character’s past: All You Wanna Do by SIX

"All you wanna do, baby / Is touch me, when will enough be enough? / See / All you wanna do / All you wanna do, baby / Squeeze me, don't care if you don't please me / Bite my lip and pull my hair / As you tell me I'm the fairest of the fair."

Electra was forced into specialising in seduction contracts, which she was not happy about. She's good at it, and if she really wanted to she could stop (though that would mean loosing Viago's support), but she is used by the men she is sent to kill who only ever seem to care about themselves

How your character sees themselves: Unsweetened Lemonade by Amelie Farren

"I fucked the reaper 'cause I knew my time was coming, can't you see? I was either gonna die at twelve or ninety-fucking-three / I'd do anything for 20 bucks, I'd sell my sour soul / 'Cause lemonade is bitter 'til you sweeten up the bowl"

Electra is a bitch and she knows it. She is ambitious and knows there are very few limits on what she would do to achieve her goals. She just kinda embraces it and the image it brings her.

Their closest relationship (romantic and platonic):

Lucanis Dellamorte (Platonic): Soft Universe by AURORA

"Speak to me, speak to me / With love in your words / Make for me, make for me / A soft universe"

Lucanis and Electra really support each other in a way that makes them an excellent political powerhouse duo. They fill in the other's gaps and help them move beyond their trauma. Power political and battle couple but make it platonic arranged marriage

Viago de Riva (Romantic): Motion Sickness by Phoebe Bridgers

"I have emotional motion sickness / I try to stay clean and live without / And I want to know what would happen / If I surrender to the sound."

These two are like on and off, they simultaneously would trust the other with their life but also hate their guts but also love them dearly. Its a lot to deal with in one relationship.

A major fight scene: Three Men Hanging by Murder By Death

"Get on with it / Put off the fuss you chickenshit"

This is the song for the infamous Viago murder scene where Electra kills him for being a threat to her leadership of the Crows. The lyrics are from the pov of Viago who has just been stabbed

End credits song: Blood Sweat & Tears by Sheryl Lee Ralph

"I can use who I want / And taste what I please / In this world I get all my fantasies / There's a hand on my throat / And a child at my feet / But the weight of the world / Won't bend my knees"

Electra's story ends... pretty much with her getting everything she wanted for herself. But, her ambition hasn't been without consequences.

Tagging on to...... @wishforhome @mishwanders @skinwalkingxana and @pennabeast (no pressure ofc)

[cramberry24]

I Am No Mother, I Am No Bride, I Am King

I'm late! I also lowkey hate this chapter, but it's out there and we can move on to bigger and more exciting things

Chapter 21: I'm Just A Ghost Out of His Grave

Pairing: Robert Zussman/OFC

Tags: 18+ Minors DNI, Explicit Language, Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Period Typical Attitudes, Historical References, Historical Inaccuracy, War, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, Medical Inaccuracies, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff, Friendship, Period-Typical Sexism, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Implied/Referenced Sexual Harassment, Period-Typical Racism, Period-Typical Homophobia, Feminist Themes, Queer Themes, Survivor Guilt, Self-Esteem Issues, Blood and Gore, Graphic Description of Corpses, Protective Robert Zussman, Trauma, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Choking, Buried Alive, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Denial of Feelings, Misunderstandings, Yearning, Mutual Pining, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, no beta we die like, well you know, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Panic Attacks, Anxiety Attacks, Suicide Attempt, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Non-Consensual Touching, Attempted Sexual Assault, Angst with a Happy Ending, there is a happy ending i promise, Protective William Pierson

Summary: The New Year brings changes to the Bloody First.

Tiny tidbit under the cut, not from the beginning bc I posted that yesterday so a random snippet, full chapter on ao3 and linked above

Evelyn is not okay.

It’s so obvious, so why is Drew Stiles the only one who sees it?

Sure, everyone had been a little worried when she first came back - from the dead, from Bastogne, wherever - but when she didn’t explode into tears or break down, when she didn’t faint or swoon because of her head wound, they all miffed and frowned and moved on.  The vets all grumble about how it seems she must not have ever really cared about her friends anyway, and the replacements gawk at the Reaper who brushes off death like an annoying bug, seemingly unfazed.

But this isn’t Evelyn.  This is the ghost of Evelyn, for lack of a better expression.  Or maybe just a vacant shell.  Her body’s here, trudging through snow, leading the platoon with her new promotion, but her heart is just gone.  One night, when the two of them were sharing a foxhole, she had been so still and silent after she fell asleep, Stiles had reached out to feel for her pulse, visions of finding her death-like body strewn across the pavement of the airbase filling his head.  He still swears to this day that he hadn’t been able to find her heartbeat in that foxhole, but her chest had been rising and falling, so he had chalked it up to numb fingers and moved on.

He tried talking to Aiello about it once, in that first week or two.  Frosty and bitter, Aiello was angry, pissed that Eve was moving on, unaffected by their recent losses.  That she didn’t seem to care.  Stiles argued back - something’s wrong, something’s really wrong - but it wasn’t until Evelyn had Aiello sent off the line to act as a runner that the New Yorker started to thaw, peering through his own grief to see what Stiles has been seeing.

Stiles still doesn’t know exactly why Evelyn sent him off - something about a red bird - but he does know Aiello needed it.  The constant shivering, the bitter remarks, the faraway look in his eyes, how it was taking longer and longer to drag him back into conversations and out of his own mind.  He argued with her about it, but when he came back, there was an undeniable lightness to his shoulders, his eyes a bit more clear.

“Thanks, princess,” Stiles heard him mutter to the still-then sergeant when he checked back in.  She reached out, squeezing his arm tightly.

“Gotta get ya to the end, Aiello,” she said back, something vulnerable peaking through her mask. “I’m not losing anybody else.”

So now Aiello sort of agrees with Stiles, and will occasionally keep an eye out on their newly appointed lieutenant, trade glances with the bespectacled man whenever she does something worrisome.  If Pierson is keeping an eye out as well, Stiles can’t tell.  He’s just as abrasive as ever, arguing with Evelyn whenever he can, and it’s a coin flip over whether she argues back or not.  Sometimes, she snarls and snaps right back, both of them with raised hackles like feral dogs, and sometimes she doesn’t rise to the bait, instead just refusing to argue with him, leveling him a glare.  Sometimes, still, she’ll stop, pausing enough for Pierson to quiet down, and then she’ll agree with him, let him continue on with his idea or plan as long as he isn’t barking it at her.

While Pierson gets a varied response from Evelyn, Dickson and the new lieutenant from third platoon are not so lucky.  Whatever patience Evelyn had before is long gone and she’s blunt as ever when dealing with Dickson.  He’s started containing himself solely to second platoon, to Aiello’s relief.  Stiles just rolls his eyes as the New Yorker talks about being free of that “brown-nosing bag of dicks”.

The lieutenant from third platoon, however?  Stiles and Aiello both have a bet on how Evelyn is going to injure him first.  Aiello’s torn between a broken nose or a kick to the balls - both very typical of their friend.  Stiles has a pack of Lucky Strikes down for a bite.  With how much she’s been snarling lately, he wouldn’t put it past her.

[indigo-constellation]

❤💛🖤 for patho?

❤: Which character do you think is the most egregiously mischaracterized by the fandom?

The healers, I could go off about all of them really, I'll leave Artemy for the last question though.

Daniil is really easy to mischaracterise, he's so easy to stereotype as the asshole scientist who doesn't care about anyone. But it is just so untrue. He can be a dick ofc, but also he is stuck in this town, trying to save people who will not let him and he is trying his best, also all three of them can be on the same level of shittiness, so saying that Daniil is uniquely worse is unfair.

People also put him as the character driven by logic and reason and he really isn't. He is an optimistic guy who is trying to kill death, he is driven by his emotions, especially past a certain day, it's part of why on day 12 Artemy tries to convince him by appealing to him emotionally rather than rationally. Daniil isn't driven by his rationality, he is trying his best to help everyone, but he is tired and he is bitter and his life is falling apart.

Clara is also incredibly mischaracterised by the fandom, and that is fully because no one PLAYS HER FUCKING ROUTE Clara my baby she is a miserable child forced to be a saint, she literally just got born and everyone expects so much of her already. her dialogue choices are a mix of "HERETIC" and really heartbreaking things, and it's so important to me that she does fall for the Humbles cult, which hurts me emotionally, and that is why I care so much about her relationship with Daniil because he treats her like a teen and she can't really handle it.

💛: What is a popular ship you just can't get behind, and why?

I'm not a multishipper so uh, any ship with Artemy/Daniil that isn't Burakhovsky, sorry, this ship reached into my chest, took hold of my heart and squeezed.

I guess I don't like Andrey/Daniil because I really can't see them in a relationship at all, they've only met in 1/3 dialogue lines when they meet, and despite only having that one meeting Daniil has been holding a grudge this whole time, which I think is funny but I really can't see them together.

Oh and Stakh/Artemy too because they're almost brothers in p1 and I just don't like that even when that's not the case in p2

🖤: Which character is not as morally good as everyone else seems to think?

ARTEMY

Artemy Burakh I love you and I would let you kill anyone forever, however, he has so many issues and problems. I did mention this in my last ask for this ask meme, but a lot of it comes from p2 presenting him in a more palatable way (which I hate) and downplaying his title as Ripper (and Warden)

His whole thing is that he sees himself as the hero when he really isn't. This is so especially clear in Changeling route where he still acts like the healer in charge when he isn't, and that's so fascinating to me. Artemy isn't morally good, and that's what makes him so interesting and fun to me