#but i also know if i wait until i'm ready i'll never do it

[cetoddle-archive]

i'm sooo tired but i got to pick up my new sleep meds today hopefully they help me tonight zzz

[shirogane-oushirou]

no promises anymoooooreeeee i'll appear online when i appear online 😭 every time i say "ooh i think life is almost done being overwhelming!" it. becomes even more overwhelming in the dumbest ways. all i can manage rn when i'm not stressing myself into a shut-down state is staring at the wall while listening to youtube essays + mindlessly crocheting.

i might queue up ppls art and fics w/o commentary in the tags... i want other ppl to see what all of my cool friends have made, but i genuinely can't think right now with this monstrous brain fog. i'm really sorry, just. yeah. maybe i'll think of some way to make it up later!!! once the dust has settled!!!! but until then i wuv u and miss u. smiles.

[venting in tags including familial manipulation and ableism. i. didn't mean to write all of that, thiss was originally going to be a main blog post but. aaaaaAAAAAA!!!!!

also no need for replies or anything, i'd turn them off for just the one post if i could kjsndkn, i just needed to get things out and go eep jsjndsfdn ok bye bye bye bye!!!!]

[ladysharmaa]

My miracle

Anthony Bridgerton x reader

summary: Anthony’s wife is in labor and it’s not looking good

warnings: mentions of death

“Where is she?” the loud voice of Anthony was heard in the entire mansion. The door he opened slammed into the wall but he couldn’t care less as he saw some servants running his way to take off his coat. “Tell me where my wife is!”

“My apologies, my Lord.” the poor man trembled under the Lord’s menacingly glare, that were just a cover for the worry and fear that was running though his veins. “The Viscountess is in your chambers. The midwife and your mother are already present with her. Shall I inform your brothers to come and wait with you until the child is born?”

Anthony didn’t bother to respond. He quickly climbed the stairs, two steps at once, seeing with wide eyes as the maids ran to his room with towels in their hands. He doesn't even settle for knocking, immediatly opening the bedroom door. None of his mother's stories could have prepared him for the sight that lay ahead.

His darling wife was drenched in sweat, dressed in her nightdown. One hand was on her round belly protectively while the other was in his mother’s hands, who was whispering words of comfort. Her jaw was clenched in pain and it was only then that he noticed the midwife between the Viscountess legs. 

“You!” Y/n screamed accusingly, managing to point a finger at Anthony with hatred. “You did this to me! You will never ever put your hands on me again!”

“I-” Anthony was at loss of words. He knew that his wife was in pain, and looking like she was ready to kill, so he just nodded his head in agreement. He took slow hesitant steps towards the bed, hoping to comfort her without dying. “I��ll never touch you again, my love. How are you feeling?”

“How do you think I’m feeling? I’m pushing your child that inherited your big head out of my lady parts! So tell me, my dear husband, how am I feeling?”

“Like you are giving birth?”

“Anthony...” his mother whispered while shaking her head in dispair. “You should leave the room. Your brothers must be coming to keep you company. We shall call you when the child is born.” 

“I’m not leaving my wife.” was the only thing he said with firmity, holding Y/n’s hand and kissing her soft skin gently.

She turned to him, a change in her demeanor, eyes full of tears of terror. “I’m scared, Anthony. It hurts.”

“I know it hurts. It’s okay, love. You will be alright and then we will have our child with us.” he whispered. A feeling of guilt washed through him. How could he have made his wife suffer through childbirth? “You are the bravest person I know. So so much braver than me and everyone else. I’m so proud of you.”

"I can't do this. It hurts too much. Make it stop, Anthony, please." Y/n cried.

It was only then that Anthony saw the look in his mother. She was worried, exchanging looks with the midwife. And as much as the Viscount would like to also show his anguish, his first priority was to comfort Y/n. "It's going to be okay, my love. Just a little longer, you're being so strong."

But she no longer had the strength to respond. It was getting harder and harder to keep her eyes open and she just wanted to sleep to escape the pain. Between her legs, an increasingly larger pool of blood was forming. Anthony's eyes were wide and there was enormous pressure in his chest. It felt like I was running out of oxygen, and it only got worse when Y/n finally gave in to unconsciousness.

"What's happening?" he whispered, looking in alarm first at Violet. Afterwards, he turned to the midwife furiously. "What's wrong with her? Help her! Do something!"

"Anthony, you need to leave." Violet advised, trying to remain calm for everyone's sake. Anthony was becoming more and more desperate, tears falling from his eyes as he grabbed his wife's hand tighter and brought it to his lips.

"I'm not going anywhere!"

"Viscount Bridgerton, the baby is in pain. You won't want to see what I'm going to do. I promise I'll try to save both of them." the midwife said, taking a small knife and flying it over Y/n's stomach.

"If you need to choose, save my wife's life." Anthony begged, now more desperate as his mother called his brothers to take him out of the room.

"Anthony..."

"No, mother, you save my wife's life!" Benedict and Collin grabbed the man by the arms and began to carry him outside, despite Anthony's struggle. "You hear me! My wife is going to survive! Let me go! Mother, save Y/n!" he shouted before the door closed in his face. 

The last thing he saw was the woman making the cut on Y/n's stomach, who woke up with a jolt. She then let out a scream that would torment Anthony for the rest of his life.

With a cry of anger mixed with sadness, Anthony broke free from his brothers' grip and put his hands to his face. He didn't want to think about the possibility of losing the love of his life. He simply couldn't take it.

"Wow, Anthony, calm down." Collin whispered when Anthony, in a rage, threw a punch against the wall. "The Viscountess is a fighter. If anyone is capable of overcoming this, it's her."

"You don't tell me to calm down, Collin. Not when my wife is in that room fighting for her life over something I did." he cried, jaw shaking and eyes red that only showed the immense pain he was in. He sat on the floor, leaning his head back and looking at the ceiling. "I need her to live."

"And she will live, brother. I will bring a drink, and we will wait together for news." Benedict said, rushing to bring the alcohol when Y/n's screams became louder.

On one hand, each scream was like a stab in the heart of Anthony, who was increasingly pale and looked like he was going to vomit at any moment. On the other, it was the only way to know she was alive.

Moments passed. The Viscount didn't know if it had been seconds, minutes or hours. Things seemed to be getting mixed up in his mind. Nothing made sense, not when the love of his life was in the next room in pain and he was away from her. He had to protect her, it was his obligation as a husband. And he failed.

And then came the moment when Anthony's heart stopped. A baby's cry was heard, and he allowed himself to smile a little. He had a son or daughter. A mini version of his wife. And then he burst into tears when Y/n stopped screaming and everything became too silent.

It was uncontrollable. He cried without being able to stop, making it even difficult to breathe in. Anthony refused to believe that he would have to raise this child without Y/n. Without her affection, her kindness, her love. He didn't want to open his eyes and realize that all this wasn't a nightmare, but reality.

Benedict and Collin didn't know what to do. But one thing was certain, they would be there to help Anthony with whatever he needed and never let that child forget the wonderful mother he had. Then, Violet left the room holding a pile of blankets that held the baby.

"You have a daughter, Anthony."

He just cried more. His body was shaking and he couldn't even look at his mother and the baby. "Y/n... Is she...?" He took Violet's silence as a yes. "Oh god..."

"Enter the room, Anthony. She is waiting for you."

Anthony had never stood up so quickly in his life. He quickly opened the door, stopping momentarily when he saw the amount of blood on the sheets, but the most important thing was Y/n's half-open eyes. She was alive and looking around the room in confusion.

"Anthony? Where is my baby?" her voice was hoarse and extremely weak.

The man fell to his knees at the edge of her bed, and lowered his head to rest on her chest. A feeling of relief spread throughout his body when he felt the rising and falling movement of her chest, indicating that she was breathing and that it wasn't just his imagination.

"I love you so much." he cried, feeling her hands start stroking his hair. "I'm sorry. You were so brave and strong. I'm so proud of you, my love."

"Where is my baby?" Y/n didn't want to seem like she didn't appreciate Anthony's words because that was a lie. He was the most important person in her life. But at that moment, Y/n just wanted to know where her baby was.

"She's right here, dear." Violet reassured with a smile, announcing her presence.

Very carefully, she passed the child into the arms of her son's wife, her smile widening as the little family was finally together again. The new parents had a gentle smile as they looked at their creation, a new love emerging for this fragile human being.

Anthony kissed Y/n's temple. "We have a daughter."

"She is beautiful."

"She takes after her mother." Anthony quickly said, never feeling so much love as he did in that moment. 

He was extremely proud of Y/n admiring her strength and courage. Now, he was going to protect his two girls until the end of his life. Nothing was more important than his family.

[ccsainzleclerc5516]

Try Me

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Warnings: suggestive

"Lan, c'mon..please don't go." You whined tightening your grip on Lando's shirt. "Stay with me"

"Baby, I want to, believe me, I do, but I told you I promised your brother to go out with him tonight. Why don't you come along with us?" He asked holding your cheeks between his hands and leaving a kiss on the tip of your nose.

"Because I want to spend some time alone with you. Why can't he go out with Charles or anyone else?"

"Charles is not feeling well, and besides, it will be suspicious if I turn him down for the second time today." He explained trying to get some sense into you, but you just decided to be a brat today because, well, you just felt like it. You wanted his attention. You needed his attention.

"Fine. Go with him then. I don't care." You pouted crossing your arms and turning your gaze away from him.

"Y/n.." He sighed turning your chin with his finger making you look at him. "I'm trying my best to spend as much time as possible with you here. If Carlos knew I spent the whole day with his sister in her hotel room I'd probably be a dead man right now. So if you want me alive, you gotta let me go now okay?"

Everything Lando said made sense. It's true that Carlos would haunt Lando for the rest of his life if he knew that he had been seeing his 5 years younger sister for over 6 months now. It's also true that Lando is a bit torn between the two of you. He doesn't want any trouble with his best friend, but he also doesn't want to even think about having to stop seeing you.

Lando and you were not in a relationship, well, not officially, you didn't call it a relationship because you were forbidden to him. You had been seeing each other for half a year and both of you knew that there was something more between you, more than just sex although you never put a label on it. The more time passed the more you liked each other and wanted to spend more time together so it got harder to keep it a secret.

"Give me a kiss" He said leaning down to your lips. You hesitate for a second, but give in rolling your eyes which Lando doesn't take very well. "No, no, don't do that."

You ignore him and head towards the bathroom not wanting to wait until he leaves your room. You just wanted to show your dissatisfaction with all your might.

"I'll talk to you later okay?"

"Whatever" You muttered before slamming the bathroom door shut.

Later that night, Lando was texting you just to check up on you, to see what you're doing, to see how you're spending your time without him and you decided to continue being a brat for the rest of the night. Because you just felt like it today.

'Just took a shower. Think I'm gonna go check up on Charles since he's not feeling well'

You replied smirking knowing that you mentioning Charles would completely push his buttons with you tonight. Ever since Carlos introduced you to them, both Charles and Lando have been trying to flirt with you. Only Charles has been doing it directly and Lando was more subtle with it. Lando was always more mysterious about it, that's probably the reason why you were attracted to him and not Charles.

So ever since he got his eyes on you, he hated that Charles was trying to get your attention. He hated that he was still doing it and yet he couldn't do anything about it because you two were a well kept secret.

'Oh really? Carlos and I saw him. He's just fine so you don't have to do that.'

He was replying back to your messages within seconds. You knew he was going crazy about it.

'Well, I'm gonna go check anyway'

Of course you weren't gonna go. You were all ready for bed, but since you didn't get what you wanted tonight, you decided to play with his head a little.

'Y/n..You have nothing to look for in his room'

'I mean it's not like I have a boyfriend if you really think about it. So..I don't think it would be inappropriate, no? '

'I can hear the attitude through the text. Fix it, before I fuck it out of you.'

His text sent shivers through your body. You threw your head back against your pillow sighing and reminiscing the way this morning the bed was squeaking beneath you two.

'I don't think you're gonna do anything about it'

'Oh, try me then'

[justwinginglife]

Can I please request Soshiro using Weapon 10 for the first time in front of his secret girlfriend (that is also in the Defense Force) and the kaiju read his thought and announces the secret to everyone to hear?

Wingman

Soshiro was stuck in place. Like actually, physically rooted to the ground.

He had been ready for a fight, ready to use his secret weapon, ready to clean up the battlefield in a few minutes flat and be home at a decent enough time to cook you dinner.

But 10 was not having it.

The second that Soshiro had synced with him, all his little secrets went flooding into 10's consciousness. Including the one where he was dating you, which was a secret to the entire Defense Force, and the one where he wanted to propose to you, which was a secret to you.

Soshiro had desperately wanted to show off in front of you, show you what he was capable of in this suit, show you just how much he could protect you, but 10 didn't give a flying fuck what Soshiro wanted.

10 wanted to tell everyone that you belonged to Soshiro. 10 wanted Soshiro to propose to you now, in the middle of a battlefield. And the fact that Soshiro kept the engagement ring on him always in case he found the perfect moment to propose did not help the matter. 10 did not care about the perfect moment, 10 was all about the now.

And it didn't help that when Soshiro had first put on the suit, you had complimented how attractive he looked. 10 took full credit for that compliment and he immediately began liking you. If he could not do this one thing for you, if he could not get Soshiro to steel his nerves and ask you the damn question already, he would have failed you. He would have no honor as a Kaiju.

So there you were, in the middle of a fight, guns blazing, organs flying, and suddenly you noticed Soshiro dropping to his knees, planting them firmly on the bloodied ground. You run over to him, concerned that he might have injured himself.

"Sosh- Vice Captain! Are you... are you okay??"

His face is pained and he's gritting his teeth but you can't find a single injury on him.

"What's wrong, what's going on?"

His head snaps up to you, the movement sudden and seemingly against his will. He bites his lip so much it bleeds and you take a sleeve and start to dab at it worriedly.

"This... this is not... how I wanted... to do this." The words come out strained as his trembling arm reaches for his pocket. He yanks his arm back with his other hand but it's to no avail.

"Do what?" You're starting to get more anxious, wondering why your boyfriend is acting so strange, especially in the most dangerous of places.

You shoot another kaiju away from him as he pulls something out of his pocket.

"I... fuck... fuck, fine. I know, I know, shut up, I'm getting to it. Baby, I love you. This is absolutely not how I wanted to do this, I wanted to be significantly more romantic, but this fuckhead won't let me leave this spot until I do this. So please, love of my life, will you make me the happiest man in the world and marry me? Feel free to say no so that I can propose again in a better place at a better time."

Your eyes widen as he flicks open a ring box and gazes up at you, waiting for your answer.

Then you start laughing. "I think this was the most perfect proposal ever, I'll definitely never forget it now."

He blushes but he lets you continue.

"Yes, baby, I will marry you. There's no doubt about that, there was never any doubt about that. I'll marry the hell out of you. Now please, 10, will you let my fiancee up so I can kiss him?"

You shoot another kaiju out of the way as 10 allows Soshiro to pull himself to his feet.

Finally in control of his own limbs, he pulls you to him, sliding the ring on your finger before devouring your lips in a passionate kiss.

All at once, your comms start to blow up with the voices of your fellow officers ringing loudly in your ears; the thing you hear the most is, "WHAT THE FUCK JUST HAPPENED? DID YALL JUST GET ENGAGED IN THE MIDDLE OF A FUCKING BATTLE?"

Soshiro face palms.

"I'm gonna kill 10."

[ama0310]

Bubblegum Bitch

Character: Aaron Hotchner

Requested: No

Type: Song Fic, Angst/Fluff

Summary: Hotch never thought he'd fall in love again—until he met Y/N.

Author's Note: Based on Bubblegum Bitch by MARINA

***************************

Meeting the Unit Chief should have been terrifying, but for you, it was exhilarating. Strauss had recently transferred you to the BAU from the Counter-Terrorism Division.

You suspected she added you to the team to ruffle the Unit Chief's feathers. It might have bothered you if it hadn’t come with a nice bump in your paycheck.

The moment Hotch saw you, he knew you were trouble. He just didn't realize how much trouble until your very first case.

Got a figure like a pin-up, got a figure like a doll Don't care if you think I'm dumb, I don't care at all

You stood before the mirror in a dingy motel bathroom, applying the finishing touches to your makeup. The skin-tight leather mini dress hugged every curve, transforming you into the perfect bait for the unsub who had been terrorizing local nightclubs.

Hotch's reflection appeared behind you, his face etched with worry. "Y/L/N, I really don't think you're ready for this."

You turned, cocking an eyebrow as you placed your hands on your hips. "And why is that, sir?"

Hotch's response was immediate and brutally honest. "You're still new, never been face-to-face with an unsub, let alone undercover. You're reckless, difficult to control, and frankly, a loose cannon. Need I go on?"

I'll chew you up and I'll spit you out

A smirk played at your lips as you sauntered towards him, invading his personal space. The scent of your perfume mingled with the tension in the air. "Look, Hotchie," you purred, noting how he stiffened at the nickname, "I was transferred here for a reason. I know what this job entails. So be my boss and let me do it."

You could see the internal struggle playing out behind Hotch's eyes. His professional concern warred with something else – an attraction he was clearly trying to suppress. You were a walking danger sign, and part of him was drawn to that fire.

"First," he said, his voice low and controlled, "don't call me that. Second, I'm not trying to offend you. I simply think Emily might be better suited for this operation. You can take points next time."

You scoffed, taking a step back. "Next time? With all due respect, sir, I fit the victimology perfectly, and you know it. I've spent the last hour transforming myself into exactly what this creep is looking for. If I don't do this, he'll likely claim another victim before we can catch him. So again, Hotchie," you emphasized the nickname, watching him bristle, "let me do my job. Don't make me have to disobey orders."

Without waiting for a response, you slipped on your stilettos and brushed past him, the warmth of your body tantalizingly close for a moment before you were gone.

Hotch watched you go, a mix of admiration and trepidation swirling in his gut. You were brilliant, fearless, and undeniably effective. But you were also unpredictable, pushing boundaries at every turn. As he followed you out, preparing to oversee the operation, one thought echoed in his mind:

Definitely trouble.

Candy bear, sweetie pie, wanna be adored I'm the girl you'd die for

Over the past few months, you had become the team's radiant beacon of positivity, your presence a cure for the often-dark nature of their work. Even the usually stoic Hotch, though he'd never admit it aloud, had fallen under your spell.

It was impossible not to be drawn to your infectious energy. Each morning, you breezed into the bullpen, a whirlwind of warmth and enthusiasm. Your greetings were accompanied by compliments, tailored to brighten each team member's day. After particularly grueling cases, the aroma of your famous blueberry muffins would fill the office, a comforting reminder that there was still sweetness in the world. You even patiently endured Spencer's lengthy tangents, sparing the others from information overload.

As the team prepared to head out for a new case, you sprinted across the parking lot, your laughter echoing off the concrete walls. "Shotgun!" you called out triumphantly, playfully shoving past Spencer to claim the coveted front seat next to Hotch.

Your friendship with the young doctor had blossomed quickly, bonded by your shared status as the "kids" of the team. While the others sometimes found his endless stream of facts overwhelming, you delighted in his knowledge, often engaging him in spirited debates that left the rest of the team both amused and bewildered.

The unit chief's lips twitched, fighting back a smile as he watched your antics. Spencer, mock indignation coloring his voice, appealed to their leader. "Hotch, come on! She rode shotgun last time. It's my turn, isn't it?"

Hotch cleared his throat, his tone stern but his eyes betraying a hint of amusement. "Y/N, you know the rules. It is indeed Reid's turn to sit up front."

You turned to face Hotch, unleashing the full power of your most irresistible puppy dog eyes. Your lower lip jutted out ever so slightly as you pleaded silently. Behind you, Spencer let out a resigned sigh, already knowing he'd lost this battle. Your ability to wrap Hotch around your finger was legendary among the team, even if the man himself was loath to acknowledge it.

Hotch held your gaze for a moment, visibly wavering. With a barely perceptible shake of his head, he started the engine, tacitly allowing you to keep your place.

Victorious, you twisted in your seat to face Spencer, sticking out your tongue in a childish display of triumph.

"Y/N!" Hotch's voice held a note of warning, though it lacked any real heat.

You straightened immediately, your voice dripping with faux innocence. "Sorry, sir!"

The apology was hollow, and you both knew it. As Hotch pulled out of the parking lot, you caught the barest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Your sunny persona had once again melted the ice around the unit chief's heart.

Oh, dear diary, I met a boy He made my doll heart light up with joy

The realization hit you like a thunderbolt – you were hopelessly, irrevocably in love with Aaron Hotchner. For the first time in your life, you felt a fear that chilled you to your core.

How could someone like him ever reciprocate such feelings? The cons seemed endless: a decade age gap, your extroverted nature clashing with his stoicism, your wild spirit at odds with his controlled demeanor. Not to mention the professional boundary – you were his employee, AND  he was still navigating the aftermath of his recent divorce.

Your newfound awareness of your feelings for Hotch led to a desperate attempt at avoidance. It was hard, given how intertwined your lives had become over the months. For a week, you'd been dodging his texts, offering only cursory greetings, and maintaining a physical distance that felt painfully unnatural.

Hotch noticed the change immediately, and it gnawed at him. Your vibrant presence had become a constant in his life, a source of warmth he hadn't realized he'd come to depend on until it was suddenly gone.

He found himself missing the little rituals that had naturally developed between you. The morning car rides, once a practical solution to your car troubles, had evolved into a cherished start to each day. Your habit of bringing him a piece of candy during lunch breaks, with the excuse of "sweetening up his day," never failed to bring a smile to his face. Most of all, he missed the casual physical contact – the way you'd unconsciously place your hand on his arm when standing close, a gesture that grounded him more than he cared to admit.

As the week progressed, Hotch's concern deepened. Had he unknowingly offended you? He wracked his brain, trying to pinpoint any misstep. Perhaps the latest case had affected you more than usual, or maybe you were simply exhausted. Whatever the reason, he was determined to lift your spirits.

During his lunch break, Hotch made his way to your favorite café. The aroma of freshly baked goods enveloped him as he ordered your usual – a ham and cheese croissant and your preferred coffee blend. Back at the office, he noticed your empty desk and quickly left the bag before retreating to his office.

When you returned from the restroom, steeling yourself for an afternoon of paperwork, the sight of the familiar bag on your desk stopped you in your tracks. With trembling hands, you opened it to find the still-warm croissant and perfectly prepared coffee. Atop the container, a piece of candy was taped to a note that read: "To sweeten your day up! – Hotch"

Your heart swelled, a mix of joy and ache flooding your chest. Looking up, you caught Hotch watching you from his office window. Despite your best efforts to maintain distance, you couldn't help but offer him the radiant smile he'd come to cherish.

In that moment, the truth was undeniable. You were completely, utterly, and hopelessly in love with Aaron Hotchner. As your eyes locked with his, a flicker of something – hope, perhaps? – passed between you, hinting that maybe, just maybe, these obstacles weren't quite so impossible after all.

Oh, dear diary, we fell apart Welcome to the life of Electra Heart

Aaron Hotchner never imagined falling in love after Haley left. His life revolved around his job and Jack. He didn't need anyone else. That is, until you entered his life.

You were the first to sense something was wrong when he didn't answer his phone. Racing to his apartment, you found it covered in blood. With Penelope's help, you tracked him to a hospital, learning he'd been stabbed nine times.

When he opened his eyes and saw you, Hotch thought he'd died and gone to heaven. You looked angelic - an angel he couldn't bear to see harmed.

So when George Foyet shot him in his own home, Hotch realized he needed to end whatever was blossoming between you before you got hurt.

But you made it difficult.

The moment he was released, you were there every day, before and after work. Groceries, cleaning, anything to ease his burden. You knew how hard it was for him to send Haley and Jack away, how alone he must feel. You were determined to show him the team - and you - were there for him. For anything.

Driving him home after the Darrin Call case, where he'd recklessly entered a house without backup, your anger finally boiled over.

"What the hell were you thinking, Aaron?" you demanded, following him into his apartment. "No gun, no vest, no backup. Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

Hotch turned, his face a mask of stone. "I knew the profile. I had it under control."

"Under control?" you scoffed. "If it were anyone else, you'd have suspended them! This isn't you, Aaron. What's going on?"

His eyes flashed. "What's going on is I'm the Unit Chief, and I don't answer to you. I think before I act, unlike some people."

The barb stung. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," he said coldly. "Just find it ironic you're lecturing me on recklessness."

"I've never walked into a hostage situation alone and unarmed!" you countered.

"I don't have to explain myself," Hotch snapped. "Especially not to you. Get out."

Your eyes widened. "No. We're talking about this. You're spiraling, Aaron. This obsession with Foyet-"

"Stop. You have no idea what you're talking about."

"I know you're not alone in this!" you pleaded. "The team needs you. I need you."

Hotch laughed bitterly. "If you haven't noticed, I am alone. My son is gone. I have no one. And I won't rest until Foyet is dead."

Tears welled in your eyes. "You have us. You have me. We can figure this out together."

"There is no 'we,'" Hotch said, his voice cold and final. "There never was."

The words hit like a physical blow. "Don't say that. You know that's not true."

For a moment, his mask slipped, revealing the pain beneath. But then it was back, harder than ever. "I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong impression."

You stared at him, hurt turning to anger. "Go to hell, Hotchner," you spat, before storming out, leaving him alone with the wreckage of what might have been.

I'm Miss Sugar Pink, liquor, liquor lips Hit me with your sweet love, steal me with a kiss

Your relationship with Aaron had crumbled to dust. Since that night you stormed out of his apartment, you'd made it your mission to avoid him at all costs. Difficult, considering he was your boss.

You understood he was facing unimaginable challenges - the loss of his ex-wife, becoming a single parent. Part of you ached to support him, but you both needed space.

That space stretched into a year.

You'd left transfer papers on his desk days ago. Despite your love for the team, staying had become impossible. It wasn't fair to you or Hotch. Counter Terrorism Division beckoned - a fresh start.

You hadn't told the team yet, dreading their reactions. You'd become their wild, sassy, overdramatic little sister. But tonight wasn't about goodbyes. It was Spencer's birthday, and Derek had chosen a club to celebrate. You wouldn't miss it for the world.

Arriving in a hot pink mini dress and matching heels, you spotted the team immediately.

"Happy birthday, Boy Genius!" you exclaimed, hugging Spencer tight.

"Please," he whispered, "get me out of here. Derek's trying to set me up with his friend."

You laughed, ruffling his hair. "No can do, Spence. It's your night. Go crazy. I promise not to film anything too embarrassing."

Turning to greet the others, you froze. Hotch was there. You hugged everyone but him, pointedly avoiding his gaze.

"Damn, girl! You're on fire!" Penelope gushed, clearly tipsy.

Emily nodded appreciatively. "I'm borrowing those heels."

"You know how to make a girl feel special," you winked. "First round's on me!"

An hour later, you were dancing with Penelope and Spencer, the alcohol buzzing through your veins. Suddenly, Spencer spun you – right into Hotch's arms. You glared at Spencer, who mouthed 'Karma' with a smirk.

The tension was strong as you and Hotch swayed silently. You wanted to escape, yet craved his touch.

"You requested a transfer," he stated, his voice low.

You quirked an eyebrow. "Did you sign it?"

"No."

You pulled back, stunned. "What do you mean, no?"

"We need to talk first."

Anger flared. "You're unbelievable," you spat, pushing past him and out of the club. He followed close behind.

"Y/N, please-"

You whirled to face him. "There's nothing to say. It's been a year, Hotch. Whatever we had is dead."

"You don't mean that," he insisted, his eyes burning into yours.

The alcohol amplified your emotions. "I do. I'm over it. Over you. There's nothing left to talk about."

"Then I'll talk, and you listen," he said firmly, gripping your shoulders. "There was a 'we'. Everything I said that night – it was a lie. To keep you safe from Foyet. He was targeting everyone I loved. I couldn't risk losing you."

Your heart stuttered. "You... loved me?"

"I still do," he breathed, cupping your face. "This past year has been hell. Not having you by my side – our carpool chats, sneaking candy, just... you. It was torture. I'll do anything to earn your forgiveness."

You wanted to resist, to make him suffer longer. But the alcohol, the longing, the raw emotion in his voice – it was too much. You threw your arms around him, burying your face in his neck.

You both exhaled, tension melting away. It felt right. It felt like coming home.

"I love you too," you murmured, then pulled back with a stern look. "But you've got a lot of making up to do."

He pressed his forehead to yours. "I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if I have to. You deserve the world, Y/N, and I intend to give it to you."

Your lips met in a soft, tentative kiss, full of promise and the weight of a year apart.

As you parted, you whispered, "This doesn't mean I'm not still furious with you."

A ghost of a smile touched his lips. "I wouldn't expect anything less."

I'm Miss Sugar Pink, liquor, liquor lips I'm gonna be your bubblegum bitch

Again, you were trouble. Even after two years together, you definitely kept him on his toes. Not transferring and working alongside your boyfriend made for an interesting way to live.

“What you did was stupid and reckless, Y/N.” Aaron's voice was stern as the team boarded the jet to head back home. The case had been a success, but it came at the cost of you getting into the unsub’s car without any weapons. Fortunately, you had your team.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at him. “Don’t you roll your eyes at me, Y/N. I’m serious.”

“Ooooo, Mom and Dad are fighting,” Spencer teased from across the jet.

“Shut up, Spencer,” you snapped, making him raise his hands in mock surrender. Then, you turned to Hotch. “You know damn well I needed to get into his car. If I didn’t and you caught him, he would’ve acted like he was just trying to get with me.”

Aaron rubbed the side of his head. Migraines. You gave him migraines. “The plan was for you to walk down the street, and the moment you were alone with him, we would get him. You went rogue.”

You rolled your eyes again. “Well, technically we were alone, and you did get him.”

He was about to argue again, but you wrapped your arms around his neck, giving him your infamous puppy dog face. “Aaron, I’m okay. You know I did what I had to do to catch him. I’m sorry I worried you, but I’m not sorry for helping bring him in.”

He sighed, knowing you were right, and he could never stay mad at you. “I hated every second of it. My heart stopped the moment you got into that damn car.”

You smiled and pecked him on the lips. “Hey, you always said I was going to give you a heart attack.”

It was his turn to roll his eyes before he kissed you. “You have, and you most definitely will again.”

“Hey, that’s what you love about me.”

“That is true.”

[uravitypng]

tsukishima kinks?

or choso kinks?

or aizawa kinks?

(sending a few options cause i’m sure you’ve already gotten these suggestions <3)

i've already got a tsukishima one i need to write but .... choso !!! aizawa !!! oh my god!!!! i've never written anything about either of them and i am sooo ready for this♡

choso

mommy/mummy kink- choso is a switch but leans more over towards sub. choso is very whiney in bed and is someone who becomes pussydrunk very easily when he's sleeping with you. during one of these pussydrunk moments he calls you mummy. he always has had the urge but resisted, worried that you won't like it but when he said it and you held onto him even tighter, wrapping your legs around him, a strangled groan came out of his mouth and he speeds up. as he comes he calls you mummy again, "gonna cum, gonna cum! fffuck mummy."

mutual masturbation- loves watching you touch yourself and will commit every gasp, touch and movement you make to memory for if he's ever alone for the weekend without you and most importantly for future reference with you, 'so touching her there makes her moan even louder huh' 'oh that made her toes curl' 'her body's shaking so much'.

choso loves watching your body writhe and squirm as you make yourself come while he's stroking his cock with rapt attention. he's inexperienced but his confidence about how good he is in bed gets boosted while mutually masturbating when you beg for more. beg for him. "please choso, please baby, i need more. want your cock s'bad. need you to touch me."

overstimulation- you milking him multiple times in succession without stopping?? yeah he likes that. he likes when you have control over his orgasms. he simultaneously wants more and wants less. bucking his hips up to meet your touch one second and the next trying to shuffle away, overwhelmed in the best way. tears filling his waterline, fists grabbing onto the sheets tightly. "t-to much!"

"i think you can take it cho"

edging- i mentioned before that he likes you having control of his orgasms so that also involves controlling when he gets to come and how many times you will deny him. "i can't anymore baby, please let me come. i've been good!"

aizawa

bondage- uses his binding cloth during sex!! tying you up in the bedroom and then leaving you there for awhile to do something else just to keep you waiting in anticipation. aizawa ties up your whole body and will also tie up just your arms and wrists on occasions too. he loves restricting your movements and watching you struggle against the binds. "there's no use struggling, you're not getting out until i want you too and before that i'm going to make you come on my tongue again."

daddy/sir kink- aizawa has an authorisation kink in general. loves taking charge and having you call him sir and daddy (sometimes even master) he will also sometimes call you kitten in response to your names for him. "sir please let me touch you! i'll be good! just let out of these binds."

choking kink- whenever he sees your eyes roll back and your breathing becoming gasps it makes him harder than he already was. his large hands wrapped around your throat, keeping you on the edge of consciousness. "so beautiful like that kitten, keep clenching around me."

somno- it's not a surprise that this is one of his kinks is it? all consensual of course but being woken up by you during sex is the best way to wake up. he also enjoys waking you up too but prefers it when he wakes up to you, especially when you're sucking his dick. his tired gravelly voice startling you as well as he gentle but firm hand on your head guiding you up and down. "fuck sweetheart, keep going just like that." you hum around his cock, letting you know you heard him. becoming wetter at the sound of his voice.

dry humping & thigh grinding- loves you being half clothed, only having underwear on, as you desperately hump and grind on him. it's a real power trip to watch you try and orgasm without any help as you frantically and pathetically rub yourself against him while he's still fully clothed and has no intention of changing that

[thinkinonsense]

Francesca

old!logan howlett x fem!reader

cw: angst, mentions of death, sad logan, a bit of fluff

wc: 800+

a/n: not sure if this will be the last part of the mini-series or not. i think i'll only add more if im inspired. i have a new mini-series idea for old man!logan so be on the lookout for that in a week or so.

hozier mini-series masterlist

-ˋˏ ༻❁✿❀༺ ˎˊ-

Logan had lost a lot in his life. He watched people he cared about die right before his eyes; the ultimate curse of living such a long life. Everyone he loved had to go at some point, and for the most part, he accepted that until you entered his life.

He did everything he could to ensure your safety, and for the most part, it worked. The only place where you weren't protected was in his nightmares.

Ever since you two met, the nightmares appear less and less but they also never fully disappear either. Logan still wakes up in cold sweats and haunting images of your bloody body dead in his arms.

"Hey! Hey! I'm alright, honey." You whispered in an attempt to bring him back to reality. "I'm here. I'm right here."

The only thing that helps him calm down is when you place one of his hands over your heart; skin to skin, feeling your heartbeat pulse and knowing that you are indeed alive and lying next to him.

Logan's heavy breathing eases after a few moments. He carefully wraps you into his arms, placing you on his chest. You knew in times like these that Logan needed to feel you.

"No one's going to hurt me." You assure him.

"We don't know for sure..." He sighs. "and I can't risk that."

"I know for sure. You know how I am so certain that no one will hurt me?" You don't allow time for Logan to answer. Your fingers lace themselves with his, bringing this hand up to his and softly placing kisses over the slits in between his knuckles. "Because I feel safest with you and these claws are part of the reason why."

Logan wasn't one to blush or feel all mushy deep inside himself but those little kisses amazed him. He admired your kindness and patience towards him. It took him forever to understand how you did it.

"Sorry for waking you up, princess." He says, trailing his fingertips up and down your back. "Didn't mean to scare ya'."

"Do you honestly think I scare that easily?" Your light giggle almost makes Logan smile.

"Guess not." He shrugs, admiring how a sliver of moonlight catches on your face. "But in any other normal relationship you wouldn't have to deal with this bullshit-"

"Hey!" You whisper, springing up to fully face him now, soft hands holding each side of his face. "This isn't bullshit."

"It is, sweetheart." Logan sighs. "I'm selfish."

"How are you selfish?"

"Because you deserve to live a long life with someone who won't damn you."

"I don't care if you damn me!" Your voice raised, not in anger but in passion. "I love you. I love all of you. When they cut me open someday that's all they will find; my love for you pouring from inside of me."

Logan pulls you impossibly closer, afraid of you slipping away. His heart pounded with love; beating solely for your existence.

"Heaven couldn't house a love like ours."

There's a heaviness in your heart as you look into Logan's hazel eyes. even after all these years, it broke your heart that Logan always felt like you were made of sand. sure, you weren't a mutant like him but you wouldn't go down without a fight. he's always afraid that someone from his past will come for revenge and you'll be the one to pay for it.

"I don't want you to be so worried, lo.." you whisper, thumb soothing the salt and pepper beard that's bloomed over the last few days. "when my time comes, I don't want you to feel responsible for it."

Death was always a sensitive topic for both of you. your death, more specifically because someday it will come no matter if either of you is ready or not. Logan doesn't think he can live without you; you tell him that he's survived before you and will survive after you. he doesn't believe you.

"I've waited all my life for you. every agonizing, torturous moment brought me to you." his voice starts to strain. "now, you are all I have left to live for... so, when you're gone, babydoll, I won't be far behind you."

Tears roll down your cheek. overwhelmed with love and fear because you can't stop Logan from taking his own life if you die. he lays you back down on his chest carefully.

Logan had seen everything the world had to offer him; most of it was utter shit until he was graced with your presence. all he wanted to do with the rest of his life was shield you from all of the horrid darkness he had seen. you were too pure and he intended to keep you far away from it all, for as long as the two of you walked this earth.

[doumadono]

hiiii Douma, I love your writing! I'll take a chance and submit a Sinful Sunday request (maybe my request will get some votes if I'm lucky ha!) - Boothill being seduced by Reader

Warnings: smut w/o plot, smut, cunnilingus, missionary, creampie, fem!reader, fingering, metal fingers & cock

A/N: this request got the highest number of votes during the third Sinful Sunday poll. Thank you to everyone who voted!

SINFUL SUNDAY OTHER FANDOMS

The dimly lit bar was the kind of place where secrets thrived, and tonight, you were ready to add one more to its repertoire. You sauntered in, your eyes scanning the room until they landed on him — Boothill. 

His rugged features were softened by the dim lighting and the swirling smoke that lazily danced around him. 

You felt a pull, an irresistible urge to get closer. As you approached, your heart pounded, but you steadied yourself, exuding confidence. You slid onto the barstool next to him, your thigh brushing his ever so slightly.

He glanced your way, a curious glint in his eye. 

"Evening," you said, your voice smooth and inviting.

Boothill tipped his hat. "Evening, ma'am," he replied, his voice a low, gravelly timbre. There was a polite distance in his tone, but something in his eyes told you he was intrigued.

"You look like you could use some company," you continued, leaning in just a bit closer, letting your shoulder brush lightly against his.

He raised an eyebrow, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Well, I reckon I ain't opposed to some pleasant conversation."

You smiled, your gaze locking with his. "What brings a man like you to a place like this?"

He chuckled softly. "Just passin' through, same as always. Got business here and there, people to see. And you, ma’am?"

"I'm here for the same reason," you replied, your voice dropping to a sultry whisper. "Though I think I've found something far more interesting than what I was looking for."

Boothill's eyes narrowed slightly, a playful glint in them. "Is that right? And what might that be?"

You let your fingers trail lightly over the rim of your glass, your touch tantalizing. "Someone who stands out in a crowd. Someone unique."

His smile widened. "Well, ain't you a charmer? Not often someone calls me unique in a good way."

"I mean it," you said earnestly. "There's something about you, Boothill. Something... irresistible."

Boothill's eyes narrowed further, a spark of curiosity igniting in them. "How do you know my name, ma’am?" he asked, his voice tinted with suspicion.

You leaned in a bit closer, your lips curling into a mysterious smile. "Word travels fast around here," you replied, your voice smooth and confident. "A man like you tends to leave an impression wherever he goes."

Boothill raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "I suppose I can't argue with that. But it makes me wonder what else you might know about me."

You let your fingers graze his arm. "Just enough to be intrigued," you said, your voice dropping to a sultry whisper. "And eager to learn more." You moved your hand down back on his muscular thigh.

Boothill's breath hitched, his eyes darkening. "Well, well," he murmured, his hand covering yours, pressing it against his thigh. The cyborg chuckled, a deep, resonant sound that sent shivers down your spine. "You're quite somethin', you know that?" He said, his eyes sparkling. "Ain't often I meet someone who can keep me on my toes like this."

You smiled. "I can also be quite... diverting," you whispered, your fingers tracing slow, lazy circles on his leg.

Boothill's breath hitched, his eyes darkening with desire. "Is that so?"

"Why don't we find somewhere more... private, and I'll show you?" you suggested, your voice dripping with promise.

He stood, pulling you up with him, his grip firm and possessive. "Lead the way," he growled, his eyes never leaving yours.

The night was just beginning, and you couldn't wait to see where it led.

The tension between you crackled, each step heightening the anticipation. 

You led him to your quarters, your heart racing with anticipation. As the door slided shut behind you, you wasted no time in pressing your body against his, your lips seeking his in a passionate kiss. 

He responded  eagerly, his tongue dancing with yours as your hands roamed over his chest, feeling the hard muscles beneath his shirt. After the kiss, his keen eyes scanned the room before settling back on you. "Mighty cozy, darlin'."

You smiled, a slow, seductive curve of your lips. "Just the right kind of place for what I have in mind."

Boothill's eyes darkened with desire as he stepped closer, his hands coming to rest on your waist. "And what would that be, cutie?"

You reached up, sliding your hands around his neck, pulling him down until your lips were just a breath away from his. "Why don't you find out, cowboy?" you whispered seductively.

Boothill needed no further encouragement. He captured your lips with his, the kiss searing and demanding. 

You responded eagerly, your hands tangling in his long hair as you pressed yourself against him. 

His hands roamed your body, exploring the curves and planes with a desperate hunger. 

You shivered under his touch, your own hands tracing the hard lines of his cybernetic enhancements. The contrast between metal and flesh was intoxicating, a reminder of the unique being that was Boothill. 

A mischievous thought crossed your mind, and you decided to act on it.

Slowly, you turned around in his arms, your movements deliberate and seductive. As you shifted, your back pressed against his chest, your curves fitting perfectly against the hard planes of his body. You felt his arm tighten around your waist, a subtle acknowledgment of your actions.

Boothill’s breath hitched as you started to grind your ass against his crotch, your movements slow and teasing. The friction was tantalizing, a promise of the pleasure to come. You could feel the hardening length of him against you.

He groaned softly, his hand sliding down to grip your hip, guiding your movements. His lips found your nape, pressing a series of hot, open-mouthed kisses to your skin. Each kiss sent shivers down your spine, the sensation electrifying.

“You’re playin’ a dangerous game,” he murmured against your skin, his voice rough with desire.

You smiled, your hips rolling against him in a slow, deliberate rhythm. “I like living dangerously,” you replied, your voice breathy with anticipation.

Boothill’s hand slid from your hip to your belly, pulling you even closer. His kisses became more urgent, more insistent, as he peppered your nape with affection. His lips traveled up to your ear, his tongue flicking out to tease the sensitive skin.

You moaned softly, your movements becoming more urgent as you ground your ass against his crotch.The feel of his lips on your neck, combined with the pressure of his hardening cock against your ass, drove you wild. You reached behind you, your hand tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. “I want you,” you whispered, your voice a plea.

His response was immediate, his grip on you tightening. “You’ve got me,” he growled, his voice low and filled with promise. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer against him. 

You resumed your grinding, the sensation even more intense.

Boothill’s hand slid down between your legs, right under your dress, his fingers finding your pussy, unclothed and eager. “Look at you, sweetheart, such a naughty girl you are.” He teased you with slow, deliberate pets, his other hand tangling in your hair, pulling your head back to expose your neck. His lips returned to your nape, and he trailed your pulse point with the tip of his tongue.

The combination of his touch and his kisses drove you wild. You ground against him with renewed urgency, your body begging for release. 

"This is what you wanted, isn't it?" Boothill asked, and you found yourself nodding again in thoughtless compliance. His cold, metal fingers slid into the slick channel between your labia and began to push their way inside your tight, soaking cunt. Boothill’s cold, metal fingers moved with expert precision, driving you higher, pushing you closer to the edge. He took his time to finger your pussy. “You’re so fudgin’ wet,” he murmured against your skin, his voice rough with desire. “I can feel how much you want this.” Boothill’s thumb found your clit, circling it with deliberate strokes that had you gasping. 

You were bucking your hips up against his cold, thrusting hand and squeezing your own nipples until the tingling was almost painful. 

With a final, precise flick of his thumb and a deep thrust of his fingers, he sent you over the edge. You shattered in his arms, a cry of pleasure escaping your lips. Your body convulsed, waves of ecstasy crashing over you as Boothill continued to guide you through your orgasm. Even as you came, you knew you would need to cum again soon.

His lips trailed soft, soothing kisses along your neck and shoulder, grounding you as you came back to yourself.

“There,” you pointed your head to another door on the side of the chamber.

Boothill's grin was wicked as he swept you into his arms, carrying you with ease to the adjoining room. He put you down next to the bed, and groaned into your mouth as you nibbled on his bottom lip, your fingers tracing a path down his stomach to the waistband of his pants. 

You deftly unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants, letting them fall to the floor. His cock was already hard and sprung up after being freed, and you couldn’t resist giving it a teasing squeeze.

He unzipped your dress and let it fall to the floor, leaving you in your lacy bra. Boothill groaned appreciatively as he took in the sight of you, his hands cupping your breasts and teasing your nipples through the fabric.

You moaned and arched your back, your hands reaching behind you to unclasp your bra. 

He took over, freeing your breasts and taking one in his mouth, sucking and licking your nipple until you're writhing with pleasure. He then laid you gently on the bed, his eyes devouring the sight of you sprawled out before him. "You're a sight to behold, sugar," he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

You reached up, tugging him down to you. 

With a growl, Boothill claimed your lips again, his hands working to divest you of your dress.

You reciprocated, eager to feel the chill of his metal body against yours. 

The cool metal of his enhancements contrasted sharply with the warmth of your flesh, heightening every touch, every caress.

Boothill's lips trailed down your neck, nipping and kissing. 

You arched into him, your hands clutching at his shoulders, urging him on. 

His mouth found your collarbone, then your breasts, lavishing attention on each peak until you were writhing beneath him.

"Boothill," you moaned, the sound of his name on your lips spurring him on.

He moved lower, his lips and hands mapping every inch of your body, worshiping you with a reverence that left you breathless. 

When he finally settled between your parted thighs, you gasped, your hands fisting in the sheets. "You're such a tease, Boothill," you managed to say, your voice trembling with anticipation.

He kissed and licked his way down your stomach until he reached your wet folds. He teased you with his tongue, licking and sucking your clit until you were crying out with pleasure. He looked up, his eyes blazing. "Only for you, darlin'." He quickly snaked out his tongue, swiping it at your pussy lips, making contact with your swollen clit, causing you to involuntarily jerk and shriek. Then he put his flexed tongue inside your tiny vagina, swirling around your opening, inhaling the scent of your drenched cunt and tasting your sweet nectar. His cold hands roamed over the soft skin of your thighs, your stomach and your breasts. 

Due to being overstimulated already, you cried out his name, your body arching off the bed as you found your second release, shuddering with the intensity of it.

Boothill crawled back up your body, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. "You taste like heaven, sugar," he murmured against your lips.

You smiled, tasting yourself on his lips and tongue, your hands sliding down to grasp his metal cock, guiding him to where you wanted him most. "Then come join me in paradise."

The slit of your vulva was glistening with moisture from your arousal as he rubbed the head of  his metal cock against it.

He easily slid into you, a groan escaping his lips as he did. 

You squeezed his cock in your tiny cunt, your muscles working on the shaft of his dick, making him groan with every thrust he made.

Boothill kissed you and you wrapped your arms and legs around him. He marveled at seeing every feature of your beautiful body. Your pussy lips were swollen and glistening with your juices. Your clit was standing tall and brushing against his cock as he fucked you hard. He pounded into you, increasing his pace, growling like an animal. 

You responded to his forcefulness, rolling your hips to meet all of his thrusts. You clung to him, your bodies moving in perfect sync. Each thrust sent you spiraling higher, the pleasure almost too much to bear. "Boothill," you gasped, your nails raking down his metal back.

Boothill’s cock shone with your slick juices as it moved in and out of your needy hole.  "Darlin'," he growled, his pace quickening. "You're gonna be the death of me."

You smiled, your lips finding his ear. "Then die happy, cowboy."

With a final, powerful thrust, you both shattered, the pleasure crashing over you in waves. 

He exploded inside you, flooding your insides with his surprisingly warm, oleaginous seed. “Holy… Oh, yeah, take it, take it,” the cowboy growled lowly, spilling all of his cum deep within you.

You rested your weight on your elbows, looking directly between your parted legs. Your cheeks flushed harder as you saw a bit of his semen dripping out around his cock that still stuffed into your cunny that was convulsively clumping down on his iron shaft. “Fuck, oh God…. Oh God!” you whined, biting your lower lip and rolling your head back.

Boothill pulled out of you slowly, rolled to the side, pulling you with him so you were nestled against his cold, metallic chest. "That was fudgin’ amazing, cutie," he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction.

You smiled, tracing lazy circles on his chest. "It certainly was, Boothill. And there's plenty more where that came from."

"Hey, sweetheart," Boothill murmured, his breath still heavy from your passionate encounter. "I realize I never caught your name. Mind sharing it with me?"

With a smirk, you cockily responded, "Maybe, if you're a good boy and earn the prize, I'll consider telling you."

[kkvqwrites]

Bedside Manner

Reader goes into labor while Simon's away and calls the first person she can think of. The task force (and some other friends in high places) rally around the couple on the most important day of their lives.

Word Count: 2,587

Characters (in order of appearance): fem!Reader (no use of y/n), Capt. John Price, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Simon "Ghost" Riley, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish, Kate Laswell

CW: childbirth, hospital setting, medical procedures

A/N: Am I a Ghost girlie? Absolutely. Am I also a sucker for the found family trope? Til I die. This idea wouldn't leave me alone and I'm so glad I stuck with it. I love the way this came out and hope you like it!

"Dear? Everything okay?"

The captain's voice on the other end of the line sounded worried. Both he and Simon had drilled it into you to never hesitate to call Price if you needed anything while your husband was away, but you couldn't help feeling a bit guilty.

"Um, I think so," you began, willing your voice to stay level and upbeat. "I think I just - oof.." Another contraction hit, stealing the air from your lungs. They were coming more consistently now, and hard enough to stop you in your tracks.

This could not be happening.

"What's wrong? Are you alright? Are you hurt?" You could hear movement in the background, him gathering his things to be out the door and on his way to you.

"I'm fine, John. I just didn't know who else to call. I think the baby might be coming?" The words came out pinched as you worked through the tail end of the contraction. The captain swore loudly.

"Stay put, love. I'm on the way - everything will be alright. Want me to stay on the phone with you?"

"No, no, that's fine. Stay safe and I'll see you when you get here." You hung up before he could argue and fuss like a mother hen.

______________________________________________________________

The knock at the door startled you. You looked at the clock - surely that couldn't be John already. The man lived across town. Not trusting yourself to make it to the door, you called out.

"It's open!"

Turns out it wasn't Price, but Gaz, who stepped into your living room and began taking in the scene. It was a sight to be sure: you, doubled over sitting on your yoga ball, rocking back and forth to try to alleviate some of the pressure in your hips, towel around your neck because you were sweating like a pig, ambient white noise filtering through the bluetooth speaker to keep you calm. For all his usual swagger and poise, Gaz looked a bit frightened.

"Kyle, did John call you? I'm so sorry - I'm sure you were busy-"

"Not at all, I rushed over as soon as I got word." The sergeant came to your side and knelt until he was eye level. "The captain's on his way but I was closer. We didn't want you to be alone any longer than necessary."

"You and your task force are worse than a quilting circle." The jab came with a joking smile, but the smile was cut short by the stab of another contraction. At the sight of your face screwing up in pain, Kyle's eyes got big.

"Can I do something? Do you need anything?" He wrung his hands as he fussed, seemingly unsure whether to touch you or whether you'd bite him if he tried. Admittedly, you weren't too sure yourself.

"Need you to reset - the timer." The words came out through clenched teeth as your muscles tensed and screamed. "Contractions - need to time them."

"The timer - right." He sprung into action, undoubtedly happy to have a defined task to accomplish. As he was fiddling with the device, Price stormed through the door, his demeanor all-business.

"Gaz? What's the situation?" The sergeant hopped to attention as if he was at roll call.

"Got here not long ago myself, Cap. Just reset the timer for contractions."

"Where are we at?"

"Thirteen minutes, sir."

The captain turned to you, assessing you from top to bottom. His expression and his voice softened considerably as he spoke.

"Ready to get to the hospital, love?"

"Can't - they told me to wait until they're five minutes apart." The man looked bewildered.

"And just let you sit here and suffer? Not on my watch. Gaz, grab my keys - "

"John," you interrupted. "I already called. They won't admit me yet. We just need to wait it out."

"Nonsense, love. You wait til I get someone's ear over there. Five minutes my arse." He moved to help you stand, but stopped in his tracks as he took in your face, your lip trembling. "Is there something else?" As if on cue, a fat tear rolled down your cheek, the first of its kind since the pains began.

"This isn't supposed to be happening," you squeaked out. "Not for a few more weeks. Simon's supposed to be here."

The men shared a glance, looking stricken. Price leaned down next to you, a broad hand gently squeezing your shoulder. His voice was soft when he spoke, a renewed slowness replacing his prior rushed pace.

"I know, love. I know it's not ideal, and I know you're scared. I know Simon would give anything to be here, that he'd split heaven and earth to be with you right now. But I also know he'd want you and your little one taken care of, yeah? He wouldn't want you to wait."

You nodded, despite more tears threatening. "Doesn't change the fact they won't admit me yet."

The captain's mouth quirked defiantly. "You let me worry about that. Gaz, help her up. I'll drive."

______________________________________________________________

Simon was tired down to his bones, feeling like a wrung out rag after the most recent mission. Despite that, the man was a ball of energy as he hopped off the plane, desperate to get back to you.

"Someone's antsy," Soap drawled, taking a more leisurely pace. He slid his sunglasses on as Simon switched on his cell phone anxiously. "Got somewhere to be, LT?"

"'Matter of fact I do - home." Simon impatiently hiked his duffel bag higher on his shoulder. "See my wife, eat a real meal. Finally build that godforsaken changing table. Who knew a baby needs so much furniture?"

Soap barked a laugh, but Simon tuned him out as he put his phone to his ear. He'd gotten a voicemail from you, and everything else ceased to matter.

"Hey babe, it's me. I'm not sure when you'll get this, and I hate to worry you. I'm sure it's fine. It's just... I've been feeling some contractions-"

Simon didn't hear the rest, nearly dropping his phone as he broke into a run.

______________________________________________________________

True to his word, Price argued with the hospital staff until you were taken up to a room. You were sure he must have pulled rank, threatened to call people, but he refused to let you worry about it.

The ride had been smooth, despite John driving like a bat out of hell. Gaz stayed in the back seat with you, clinging to your hand and fussing. Later, you'd think it was funny how he seemed to need more encouragement and support than he offered, but at that moment very little was funny.

You had been able to stay in denial for an admirably long time. The past few days, you were able to tell yourself it was just Braxton-Hicks contractions, not the real thing. That even when it became evident the real thing was starting, that it wouldn't progress quickly. That even though it was progressing, that Simon would walk in the door just at the right moment and sweep you into the car and off to the hospital and all would be well. Even when your gut told you to pick up the phone and call the captain, you had managed to make yourself believe that you were wrong, that it was a false alarm, that you still had more time.

Now, here you were, connected to monitors and being poked and prodded by nurses. Medical history, allergies, birth plan, you felt like you were in interrogation rather than a patient receiving care. And if it wasn't the nurses it was the two men standing off to the side, one wringing his hands in worry and one watching the nurses like a hawk and barking questions. The contractions were closer to eight minutes apart now, progressing quickly. Now the situation was very real, and as thankful as you were from the support from Price and Gaz, your heart threatened to shatter at the absence of the one person who mattered most.

______________________________________________________________

"Bloody fuckin' hell, no one will answer their phone!" Ghost barked, ready to throw his out the window. He'd had radio silence other than a second voicemail, this one from the Captain:

"Simon, Price here. Just got word from the missus that the baby's on the way. I'm headed there now. I don't want you to worry about a thing, I won't leave her side. I'll update you as I'm able."

"She knew to call the captain; he's probably with her now," Soap offered from the driver's seat. He'd practically had to arm wrestle Simon for the keys, but ended up convincing him that he'd be able to call for updates if he wasn't worried about driving. Silently, he thanked the saints Simon had agreed; who knows what carnage he'd unleash on the roads as worked up as he was.

"He better be, or I'll - not now, Laswell!" Simon rejected the third call from the station chief since landing and tried Price again. He was sure he'd hear about it for skipping debrief and jumping in the car, but right now he couldn't bring himself to give a shit. When Price's phone again went to voicemail, he was about to go nuclear when the car's Bluetooth lit up with Laswell's number.

"Shite; let me answer it LT." Soap pushed the button. "Laswell, it's Soap. Here with Ghost."

"I know," she said impatiently, her voice filling the space. "I've been trying to call all afternoon. I know what's happening and I'm here to help."

"What? How do you know?"

"Price called me as soon as he got word, asked me to find you. Anyway, you're wasting time heading in that direction; there's a lane closure ahead and you're about to be neck deep in traffic. I've mapped an alternate route for you. Take the next left."

The two men looked at each other in confusion before both starting to speak at the same time.

"Left? That takes us the wrong way-" "How do you know where we're at?"

"Boys! Boys, listen," she continued, exasperated. "Don't worry about how I know, just do as I say. We're gonna get you there as fast as possible. Now turn left!"

Soap cut the car to the left, ignoring the indignant honks of other drivers as he began to cut through the city under Laswell's watchful eye.

______________________________________________________________

"The doctor says you'll be ready to start pushing soon. How are you feeling?" The nurse was genuinely trying to be nice, so you bit back on your retort of how the fuck does it look like I'm feeling? My insides are exploding! and instead chose a weak smile and a head nod.

Once the nurse whisked away, Price was back at your side. You could tell by his expression he wanted to give you a pep talk like you were one of his soldiers about to head into battle, but he was searching for the right thing to say. You broke the silence first.

"I'm scared." Your voice sounded small, the words escaping almost of their own volition. The captain took your hand, blessedly avoiding sugarcoating the situation.

"I know. But you're doing great - a real trooper. Even with the needle in the back! Simon's gonna be so proud of you, love. And Gaz and I are gonna be right here. Right Gaz?"

"Right, Cap." The sergeant slid back into the room, cup of ice in hand. While the captain had taken point and begun advocating for you with the hospital staff and asking a million questions, Gaz had been dutifully making sure you were comfortable. Anything from getting you an extra pillow for your back, to helping you tie your hair back, to getting you ice chips since you couldn't have food or drink during labor, he was on it. If either man was uneasy about what was about to happen, they dutifully kept it under wraps and maintained their game faces.

One by one, the care team took up positions around you to get started. Price and Gaz got next to you, each taking one of your hands, ready to offer what support they could. You shamed yourself, one last time, for being ungrateful for their presence. A lot of people give birth with less, you tried to tell yourself. He’d be here if he could. 

 The doctor walked in, donning gloves and getting a quick status update from one of the nurses before meeting your eyes. “Evening, ma’am. We’re going to-” 

Her words were cut off by a commotion in the hall, a door slamming and what sounded like some raised voices. Everyone in the room exchanged confused glances, and Price motioned for Gaz to go investigate. He poked his head out into the hall for only a moment before returning with a big grin.

“You’re not gonna believe who’s here."

Then your husband was in the doorway, and then he was at your side, and suddenly those honey brown eyes drowned out every ounce of pain and fear you’d been holding onto, and that warm, calloused hand took yours, and you were ready.

______________________________________________________________

You would have thought it would be difficult to fall asleep under fluorescent lights, with monitors beeping and staff bustling around. But you had never known tiredness like this, and wanted to take the nurse’s advice and rest while the pain meds were still working their magic. The delivery had been uneventful once the show was on the road, and Simon never left your side, his steady presence grounding and his voice in your ear keeping you calm. Then there she was, a baby girl, the most precious tiny thing you’d ever laid eyes on. You’d stared at her and cried for hours, stroking her tiny hand and welcoming her to the world until you could barely keep your eyes open. And so, with a squeeze of your hand and a kiss on your forehead from Simon, you found yourself drifting off. You were aware, as you floated off, of his slow pacing back and forth with your newborn daughter in his arms, of his whispers to her that were too low for you to hear. Of the guys popping in, as unobtrusively as possible lest the lieutenant tear them limb from limb for disturbing you and the baby, bringing him food and coffee and admiring the bundle of joy.

“Doesn’t look a thing like you, Simon,” said Soap.

“Thank God for that,” he replied.

“You should have seen it, Simon really - needle this long, right in the spine!” Price remarked, not for the first time. “She didn’t even flinch.”

“I’m just glad you made it for the gross stuff,” mumbled Gaz.

“Kyle, you’re in the military. You’ve seen arms and legs blown off.”

“Completely different, Johnny. Not the same at all.”

On and on they bantered, brothers in arms stepping into their role as uncles for your baby girl with delight. One of the last things you heard was Simon, his voice thick with emotion.

“Thank you, all of you, for being here. For today.”

“Oh come off it Simon,” replied the Captain. “These girls mean something to you, so they mean something to us. That’s what a family is. Now quit hogging her and let Uncle John have a turn.”

You wouldn’t remember this conversation when you woke up, wouldn’t be able to articulate where it came from, but you’d carry with you the bone-deep feeling of connection with this little makeshift family forever.

[ohisms]

✱˚｡⋆ ↪ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍'𝐒 𝐇𝐎𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐄 . ( a collection of fantasy - based dialogue prompts . adjust phrasing as necessary . )

strangers don't last very long around here .

lay down your sword , and i'll lay down mine .

whatever you do , do not stray from the path .

try not to get yourself killed .

the magic here is old and wild .

quiet ... do not wake it .

i thought i'd find you here . get up .

the tavern in [ location ] is known for its ale and its rumors .

you are starting the path towards your destiny .

is there no end to this accursed forest ?

my sword is yours .

the path to redemption is paved with trials and tribulations .

this forest feels ... sick . as if a disease lies upon it .

you are nothing but damned bones , and a damned soul .

have you ever seen the world beyond [ location ] ?

in the face of overwhelming odds , we must stand united .

please don't let them know that i'm here .

i've heard tales of your exploits . impressive , if they're true .

there's a town three miles east from here .

we have such history , you and i .

go carefully ... there's a camp nearby .

you will not die here , i forbid it .

your reputation precedes you .

i would rather die on my feet than on my knees .

there is no destiny . no born heroes .

you've got a fire in your eyes . use it , but don't let it consume you .

the spirits of this forest are restless .

there's more that you aren't telling me .

you have something that belongs to me .

you shouldn't be here , it's not safe in these parts .

all we can trust are the blades in our hands .

do you believe in fate ? destiny , prophecies ...

i don't think i'll ever get used to having blood on my hands .

wait ! there's traps here . lots of them .

i would die before helping in such a task .

there's an inn just another mile north .

have your blade at the ready .

if you can't already tell , i don't require saving .

have you drank your fill already ?

this isn't just some lark to me .

i'm headed to [ location ] . i could use some company .

your bravery is admirable , but it will also be your undoing .

you're exhausted , [ name ] . we're stopping here .

i will hunt you until the day i die .

i wish you a safe journey home .

as long as i can be of no help , i'm going to hide .

raise your sword . this should be a fair fight .

you're brave to show your face here again .

in this world , you can trust two things ; your intuition and your sword .

i've seen the way you look at the horizon . you're searching for something .

[ administers a healing potion / spell ] is that any better ?

you have no idea of the catastrophe you've set in motion .

there's an ambush ahead , stay quiet .

i want to know your story ... beginning to end .

in the end , we're all just stories waiting to be told .

i've heard tales of a dragon living high up in the mountains . some say it's just a myth , others swear it's real .

the line between friend and foe is often blurred .

try to stay quiet . is the wound deep ?

do not provoke them .

monster ? who's the monster here ?

i forbid you from telling anyone what you've seen here .

are you scared of witches ?

that's a beautiful [ weapon ] . may i ?

you are a valuable ally and a fearsome adversary .

do not tell me you've grown soft over the years .

if our enemy has returned , we must know .

you're a tough one to read , but i can see the kindness in your eyes .

the key to survival is knowing when to fight and when to flee .

i never expected to run into you in [ location ] .

last we spoke , you owed me some coin .

do not fear me ... everybody else fears me .

there is no magic or medicine that can cure this .

you keep questionable company .

every choice has a consequence .

the fate of the world lies in your hands .

so you're the great [ name ] .

remorse will get you nowhere .

you must stay on the path . do not leave it . if you do , you'll never find it again .

i once dreamed of this place . it's real ?

some secrets are best left buried .

the bridge is heavily guarded . we need a plan .

i thought you were returning home .

i would not do this unless i had to .

i need my horse .

it's real . all of the stories , the legends ... and it's real .

don't lose your wit . i believe you'll have need for it yet .

[demonpiratehuntress]

I am actually so mad. I was working on this and for some reason it didn't save correctly and ended up posting a blank draft while deleting the stuff I had already written! I'm so sorry it took so long, @tiaramarijadhkxdyi755, but here it is! i hope this is close to what you wanted, because i wasn't sure how to go about it 🙈

taglist - @kabloswrld

patience with the Straw Hats

featuring - Zoro x F!Reader, Luffy x F!Reader, Sanji x F!Reader, Usopp x F!Reader

summary - the ask above

warnings - mean/careless/neglectful Straw Hats, im sorry, i changed Luffy's and Usopp's because I don't imagine them ever screaming at or getting angry with their s/o 💕

ZORO

Zoro has a short fuse, and that's common knowledge. Everyone knows just how grumpy and aggressive he can be after a hard fight or a difficult day training. He's snapped at everyone more than once, but you seem to take the brunt of it since you're the closest to him, and today was no different.

"For fucks sake just leave me alone!" Zoro could be heard yelling at you all throughout the Sunny. "You're too damn clingy and I don't need your help right now!" He stormed off.

You stood there in shock, having just asked him if he was okay, and taken aback by the response you had gotten. It wasn't unusual for him to be angry, but he was really upset today for some reason. You decided to give him space, but you had to admit you weren't really hurt or upset. More so disappointed that he had once again pushed you away.

"Zoro-"

"What?!" He snapped, glaring at you as you came up into the crow's nest with some food. "I'm not hungry, just leave."

"But-" You started, until he did something unexpected.

He smacked the food out of your hands, sending it all over your face. Your eyes widened and you stumbled back a bit, stunned.

"Okay, I'm sorry," you apologised, giving him a soft smile, "I'll have food in the room once you're ready to eat."

You waited a long time until Zoro finally entered your shared room, looking embarrassed and guilty about his outbursts today. He didn't say anything as he crossed the room and sat down beside you, but when he took your hand in his and brought it to his lips you knew he was apologising.

"It's okay," you smiled gently, "I'm not upset. Just disappointed that you won't let me help you."

"I know I know," he admitted. "I'll work on it, I promise."

"What made you so angry anyway?" You squeezed his hand.

He sighed, "You almost got hurt in our last fight because I was distracted. It's been haunting me, and I just don't want it to happen again. I snapped because I wanted to train harder instead of resting or eating, so I can properly protect you."

You smiled at him again, "But you always do, that was not your fault babe."

He was so grateful to have such a patient, understanding and loving girlfriend.

SANJI

Sanji usually never snapped at or yelled at you. He didn't ever want to, and never had any reason to. He was sweet, loving and doting just like you were, but unlike you he did have his days where he went against his promise to never lash out at you or hurt you in any way. Today was one of those days. Usopp had pulled him away from some girls who were fawning over him, and he was irritated.

"Why did you do that?" He glared at the sniper. "I was having fun."

"You also have a girlfriend," Usopp reminded him, gesturing towards you. He was nervous now, because Sanji looked pissed off.

"So?" The cook scowled. "I can appreciate and talk to other women without cheating on her!" He spoke like you weren't right next to him. "Right, (Name)?"

"Right," you smiled, a bit disappointed but not showing it.

Then he was off, returning to those women to apologise and your crew turned to you, looking at you quizzically. Nami set her hand on your arm reassuringly.

"It's okay," you told them with a smile, "It doesn't bother me."

Sanji then returned, but was quick to notice the disappointed look you had on your face. He was about to ask but you shook your head and kissed his cheek, continuing your exploration of the island.

"Okay what's your problem?" He suddenly asked, annoyed, when you looked disappointed at another interaction between him and a pretty woman.

Your eyes widened, "I'm not-"

He rolled his eyes, "I'm not stupid, (Name). You're obviously hiding the fact that you want to control my every move and stop me from ever talking to other women again."

That claim was so preposterous, you frowned, "I wouldn't-"

He quickly realised what he had said and his eyes widened, "No no no, my love I didn't mean that! I don't know why I said, I-I-" He fumbled for an excuse but sighed when he didn't have any. "I'm sorry, my love. Let me make it up to you, with your favourite dinner."

"Deal."

LUFFY

In all honesty, I don't see Luffy getting angry with or yelling at you. I think he's more of the neglectful type, when faced with certain situations like facing Boa Hancock out on the sea. She claimed she didn't know you guys would be there, but you're pretty sure she was stalking his movements. Luffy wouldn't listen though.

"It's okay, (Name)!" He replied cheerily when you voiced your concerns, "Hammock's really nice! And she has yummy food!"

And then he was off, leaving you to shake your head and sigh. You retired to your shared room, hoping that Luffy would eventually realise her intentions and come back.

He never did, and after a few hours you were starting to get lonely. So you ventured out to find him, only to see him giving her a tour of the Sunny.

"Luffy!" You called, but frowned when he seemingly ignored you as Hancock said something to him.

That was pretty much how the day went. You were ignored entirely by your boyfriend, simply because Hancock wouldn't let him pay attention to you. But you were disappointed in him too, for not telling her that you were dating and for not coming to spend time with you on his own.

When the day ended and Hancock retreated to her ship, bidding Luffy goodbye, the captain finally made his way to you. You weren't upset or sad, but Luffy could see on your face that you weren't feeling anything good.

"Are you alright, (Name)?" He questioned, hugging you.

"I'm disappointed, Luffy," you told him, but hugged him back and smiled anyway, happy to have him back.

"Disappointed?" He frowned. "Why?"

You sighed, "You didn't make any effort to come and see me for even a few minutes today. You spent the whole day with her. I'm not upset, because she helped you a lot, but I am disappointed that you ignored me."

He hugged you even tighter, "I'm sorry, (Name), really. We can spend the whole day together tomorrow!"

You smiled and nodded, not having the heart to tell him that's what you guys did everyday when Boa wasn't around.

USOPP

Usopp is another Straw Hat that I don't see getting angry or yelling easily. He's very patient with you, and he's understanding. He also doesn't have any aggravating circumstances, but the one thing he can be that disappoints you sometimes is careless. He can be very careless when it comes to what he says or does, because he usually acts on emotion.

And today, it seemed, he was missing his old crush Kaya. Because while you were shopping for clothes on one store, seeking to replace your torn and burnt ones, he kept yapping on about how Kaya had this and Kaya had that, and that hers were all real and genuine.

"I'm sorry I'm not Kaya, or as rich as her," you politely reminded him, not upset but starting to feel uncomfortable.

"It's okay!" He smiled, ignoring the subtle hint for him to stop talking about her. "I love you anyway!"

"Love you too," you smiled, but in your disappointment it didn't quite reach your eyes like it usually did. Still, you persevered, hoping he would stop by the next shop.

He did not.

"Kaya had something like this," he looked at the dress you were holding up, "But much prettier."

You frowned, again disappointed that he didn't like it. And that he had once again compared it to someone in his past that should be staying in said past.

Usopp noticed your expression, and his smile faltered, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," you smiled, shaking your head, "It's just not my style."

His eyes widened, "Woah, (Name), I didn't mean-"

"It's okay, Usopp," you kissed his cheek, "Let's go, I think we're done."

"No we're not," he took the dress, "This will look so much nicer on you than Kaya."

You opened your mouth to say something, but giggled when he refused to let you and bought it for you, dragging you back to the Sunny so you could show him just how much prettier you were than Kaya.

[withleeknow]

i think you'll do well with requests bc they seem to be popular in the fanfic side of tumblr! but even if it doesn't take off that quick, at least that'll be less overwhelming bc some ppl can be so demanding....anyways, i hope the best for you in this new journey haha 💝

me personally, i'm not very creative so i'll leave the details to the professionals (aka you) but i'd like to req something from minho's pov. i think those type of stories are SEVERELY lacking in the lee know fics department lol 🥲 it could be a childhood friends to lovers where he is pining for oc but he has a lot of self esteem issues and thinks she's not interested in him. also a big softie and just all around head over heels for her. you can add your magic! (if this is even remotely interesting enough to write lol i just want a minho pov tbh shsjjfjdjdj 😭)

light years.

summary: three times minho bites his tongue, and one time you don't let him.

pairing: minho x f!reader genre/warnings: childhood friends to lovers, fluff, angst; kissing, cursing, so much pining i could hurl. could this have been more edited? oh absolutely lmao but i actually don't hate it sooo this is what we're going with :p word count: 4.2k note: to the first anon, thank you so much for your kind words! :') and i'm sorry that this took me longer than expected. i was trying to figure out what i wanted to write for your prompt but then i got the second request with the song and i thought they would go nicely together hehehehe i hope the both of you enjoy thissss

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / request masterlist / ko-fi

I'm not sure what it means to love But I blink kind of slow around you I'm not sure what it means to love But I'll grow wherever you do What that means, I don't have a clue

I'm Not Sure - Margeaux Beylier

One.

Minho is 18 years old, and he doesn't know what love is, doesn't really care for it at all.

While his friends are out there wrapped in the clutches of young love - the kind that blooms with stolen glances in classrooms and sticky notes passed in secrecy, Minho finds it simply unnecessary. He doesn't understand it whenever Hyunjin whines about not having a girlfriend because they're still young, they've got all the time in the world for romance later down the line. It's not the end of the world like Hyunjin laments it is.

Minho has his own life to prioritize. College is starting after the summer and he still needs to figure out how he's going to cope with the absence of his cats once he moves away. He's got dancing and he's got his other hobbies to keep him fulfilled and occupied.

And above all, he's got you.

You're getting ready for your sister's wedding when it happens for the first time. Or rather, when it doesn't happen.

You step back into the room where Minho is waiting for you on the sofa, his gaze resting idly on the screen of his phone, scrolling absentmindedly through his friends' group chat even though he has no interest in whatever they're talking about. You cough lightly to indicate your return after disappearing into the bathroom minutes prior to change into your dress. He looks up upon your soft announcement, and when his eyes settle on you, he swears it feels like an invisible force has collided with his chest and knocked all of the air from his lungs.

Throughout all his years of knowing you, inseparable from childhood until now, Minho has never seen you like this - all dolled up with your hair falling over your collarbones, cascading over your shoulders in soft waves that beckons him to run his fingers through. The light blue dress hugs you beautifully, the silky material catching the light from outside the window every time you shift on your feet under his steady gaze.

"So...?" you ask, moving your arms awkwardly behind your back like you're not sure what to do with them. "What do you think?"

What does he think?

Minho thinks you might just be the prettiest girl in the world. He thinks he must have been an idiot his whole life, to have spent most of his waking hours beside you and not once has he noticed how truly breathtaking you are. He thinks about the feeling that spreads in the pit of his stomach, sends warmth throughout his body and makes his heartbeat race a million miles an hours.

Your best friend blinks slowly as he savors the warmth that he's never experienced before. It's similar to the feeling you get when you're sitting under the shade of a big tree on a summer's day. It's comparable to the satisfied tranquility you get after you've just finished a hearty meal. A little hazy in your contentment.

It's not until you probe with a pointed Well? that Minho realizes he's been staring at you in silence for a few minutes now. He swallows thickly, willing away the words that he wants to say but they get lodged in his throat. He reckons it's weird to verbalize them, because it's not how the two of you function. You don't often utter that kind of sentiment out loud and he doesn't either. Never have and likely never will.

In the end, he bites his tongue. "You look presentable," is what he settles on.

You roll your eyes, then reward him with a laugh.

Minho doesn't care about love. He only cares about you.

Two.

Minho is 21 years old, and he's gotten used to his heart beating erratically whenever he's in your presence.

Three years flew by in the blink of an eye, and graduation is just around the corner. You've always done well in school, straight A student with a track record that most could only dream to have. You put in the hours, you do the work. You deserve everything that you've achieved.

But it's been a challenging few months for you both, being seniors and all. He's had to watch you struggle to stay on top of your classes while also having to slave over a thesis 24/7 until you were sure it was perfect. It reduced you to tears a few times, and Minho was there to hold your hand through it all.

He held you in his comforting embrace when you wanted to give up. He made you dinner when you were too immersed in your schoolwork to notice that you'd forgotten to eat. He was your biggest support system; if it weren't for him, you don't know if you would've made it through.

It's hot outside today, a little unbearable but not uncharacteristic for June. Minho waits in a familiar hallway, the same hall that he's walked past for hundreds of times over the past few years, the same hall that he won't see again once he holds a degree in his hands in only a few weeks' time.

As he sits on an old wooden bench, he bounces his leg as if he's one of the people in the classrooms that line the hall. He doesn't have to be on campus today, but here he is regardless because you're scheduled for your thesis defense this morning. You're in one of those rooms, probably also bouncing your leg from the overwhelming nerves. Minutes feel like hours; you went in there a while ago after he had sent you off with a pat on the head and an encouraging Godspeed.

He's nervous for you, but he's sure that you'll do great. Years of hard work accumulating in what must be the most important moment of your academic journey. You even stayed up all night last night, refusing to sleep a wink just to revise your arguments and talking points.

Minho's head snaps up instantly as he hears a door creak open, the sound of it reverberating throughout the empty hallway like a gong announcing your return from battle. It takes you a few seconds to step out of the room and into his line of sight. He can't see you very well with all this distance between you, but he can still make out the way your frame is visibly shaking with every step you take. He rises to his feet, and you break into a sprint.

He opens his arms wide - a hug of consolation or congratulations, he doesn't know yet - but he still can't seem to brace himself for the collision. You run straight into his embrace, your warms wounding around his middle tightly. Minho feels your tremors, hears your sniffles from where you're pressing your cheek against his shoulder.

"How did it go?" he asks gently.

You start crying then, and he doesn't know if the tears that his shirt is soaking up are those of joy or of grief, but he holds you through it anyway. He swears he can feel every single beat of your heart, hammering so wildly as you're pressed against him like you could sink into him if only you'd push just a little bit more.

"I passed," you say in between sobs. "I got an A."

Minho heaves out the breath that he's been holding ever since you entered that classroom, but it's not like he had any doubt about it to begin with. He hugs you tighter than he's ever had before, and he loves you just the same.

You two must look so dramatic, all wrapped up together in your own little bubble, but who the fuck cares? Although, when another student passes by and coughs, you do break away from him, a little embarrassed for a second.

Even with your hair all mussed up and your flushed cheeks stained with tears, he still thinks you look the same as you did when you were 18 at your sister's wedding. The prettiest girl in the world.

Minho wipes away the wetness on your face with his sleeves, then swipes with gentle thumbs at the moisture that's gathered along your lash lines.

"Holy fucking shit," you breathe out, your shoulders sagging with evident relief, so much more relaxed now that you've done it. "I can't believe it's finally over."

Your best friend can't entirely agree, because he's always believed in you. He's had faith in you since the beginning, since you were mere children laughing and crying together on the playground. You were meant to do great things, this was always crystal clear to Minho.

I love you, he thinks as he smooths a hand over your hair, his chest swelling with nothing but pride and fondness for you. You did so well.

But it's not what he ends up telling you. He swallows it down, washes it away with a dose of regret and longing. He's still not the type to express sappy sentiments, and he's grown accustomed to adoring you only in secret.

"Let's go," he says softly. "I'll buy you dinner."

Minho is still young, he's still got his whole life ahead of him, but he knows what love is now. He knows that it's you.

Three.

Minho is 24 years old, and he finds it hard to make peace with the fact that you're starting to get out there, that you're finally going on dates now that academics aren't taking up most of your time anymore.

To be fair, none of the guys you've seen have been graced with a second date, and Minho thanks his lucky stars whenever you return from a night out and text him a simple Not it. He knows that it wasn't your decision in the first place, that your mom and your sister have been setting you up on blind dates because they want to see you bring a boyfriend home.

You complain about it all the time, whining about how you're not interested but your family is adamant on it. Minho is well aware, and yet, there's a part of him that's a little shaken, because what if? What if the universe miscalculates and the stars misalign just enough in his misfortune for you to cross paths with someone who's absolutely perfect for you? Someone who's a good man that can give you what you've always deserved to have.

He really doesn't know what he would do if that happens. When it happens?

He doesn't know why you're here tonight either, sitting on a chair on the other side of his kitchen island in a pretty dress when you're supposed to be going on a date in half an hour. The guy apparently works for a big record label, some producer that your sister knows through a friend of a friend.

You look indifferent, kind of bored, as you watch Minho makes dinner for himself. "You seem miserable," he comments, taking a quick break from chopping vegetables to glance up at you. You do look a bit miserable, but you're still the most beautiful in his eyes.

You throw your head back and groan loudly, "Because I am. God, I don't know why they keep making me do this. These guys always give nothing."

"Please elaborate."

"They're all boring suits with tedious routines." you say, and as absentminded as your tone is, it sounds a little pointed to Minho's ears. "They don't make me laugh."

Do they not make you laugh, or do they not make you laugh more than I can?

"Then don't go," he snickers, though there's no humor in his voice at all. "These guys sound like duds. Just tell your sister to fuck off."

"Do you mean that? Do you really think I shouldn't go?"

And there's something in your gaze, something so suddenly expectant in the way you're looking at him that makes Minho wonder. If he says yes, would you listen? Would you stay here with him? Would you stay here for him?

I'm serious. Don't go. You can have this and I'll make myself ramyeon. Just be here with me.

You both stare at each other on either side of his kitchen island for an infinite stretch of time. He feels like your eyes are trying to tell him something that he can't decipher, as if they're sending him signals in a language that he never learned how to read.

For a second there, he indulges himself. He pretends that you're only asking because you want to hear him say it. That you want him to put up a fight and not let you go.

But he bites his tongue because it's become a bad habit. A habit that he can't shake because he simply doesn't have the courage to do so. Because if you stay here tonight, looking like that under the cozy lighting of his living room, he might just spill his secrets and he wouldn't be able to take it when reality comes crashing down and you end up telling him that you've never felt the same way.

"I'm kidding," he musters up the words, and tries to plaster on a smile for your sake, even though he's not sure if you really believe it. "You're dressed up anyway. Go and get a free fancy dinner, if anything."

Minho knows what love is, but his love has always lived in the shadows, his longing has only existed in the dark that it terrifies him just thinking about it meeting the light.

Four.

Minho is 26 years old, and he's been a coward for the better part of a decade.

Maybe he's loved you for even longer, but he has spent the past eight years head over heels in love with you, and not once has he done anything about it. Never been able to gather enough courage to ask you out, never even hinted at his feelings for you. He loves you from his place by your side and yet, you've never known.

He loves you the most, but he loves you in the worst way that a person can love another - he loves you in silence.

You're the prettiest girl in the world, and Lee Minho is a pathetic coward.

All these years, he's kept quiet and for what? There's always a spot reserved for him right next to you and yet, it feels like he can only watch you from the sidelines, far away from where it really matters, because he doesn't think he can fit into your life the way he truly wants. You taught him what love was, and love, to Minho, is unattainable. Something he can spend the rest of his life yearning for but won't ever have.

Love hurts. Sometimes, all love does is hurt.

"I would've taken you to a nice restaurant if you asked, you know," he says, putting a chocolate cupcake on the coffee table in front of you before he sits down next to you on the fluffy carpet of your living room. He pulls out a candle next, placing it right in the center of the sweet treat.

Your gaze follows his hand has he lights the candle, your eyes glinting with excitement as though you're a child again and your favorite day of the year is still your birthday. The tiny flame curves and bends, dancing to a rhythm that looks like only you can hear. You watch the candle like it's magic, while Minho just watches you, thinking the same thing.

He watches as you close your eyes and clasp your hands together for the theatrics, then you blow out the flame seconds later with a swift breath.

You turn to him with a smile, "I don't need a nice restaurant. This is perfect."

He blinks, and there's that warmth simmering in his belly again. He first felt it when he was 18, and he feels it now. He feels it almost every moment that he spends with you, and he reckons it's only reasonable, because you're his home personified and love can still be beautiful even when it hurts. There's his heart racing again, but that's nothing new to Minho.

He muses over your words. Perfect. Just one simple word is enough to get his hopes up in a way that it really shouldn't.

Your definition of a birthday well spent is in your cozy apartment, eating takeout pizza with your best friend. Perfect, to you, is him baking you a singular chocolate cupcake upon your request and being with him within these four walls, where his fingers occasionally brush yours when you sit next to each other.

Oh, Minho would follow you to the ends of the earth if you asked him to.

He clears his throat lightly, breaking away from your gaze that's full of gratitude and childlike wonder. "What did you wish for?"

"I'm not gonna tell you. It won't come true then."

Wishes don't come true anyway, he thinks, but obviously he won't say it out loud to you, and on your birthday no less. Instead, he diverts his attention to the cupcake, subconsciously tonguing his cheek as he takes a small chunk of the sweet and offers it to you.

You let him feed you even though your eyes are narrowed. "What was that look?" you ask.

"What look?"

"You had a look."

"No, I didn't," Minho insists.

"Yes, you did. You wanted to say something, didn't you?"

He shrugs, popping a piece of cupcake into his own mouth. The answer is yes, he did want to say something, but if you want to get technical about it, then he's wanted to say something for years now. He asks you the same thing every birthday, What did you wish for?, and you would refuse to tell him every time.

"Wishes don't come true," he verbalizes it this time, with a voice that's lighthearted on purpose despite knowing that you wouldn't take it that seriously either way.

You roll your eyes. "Now you're just being pessimistic."

"What? I'm speaking from experience."

"You've never had a birthday wish come true?"

"My birthday wishes haven't come true since I was 18."

Minho feels your eyes on the side of his face, and when you remain quiet for a beat too long, he turns his attention back to you. "What?"

"How do you know they didn't come true?"

"Because..."

Because you've been my wish for almost a decade now. I didn't use to believe in wishes but I always believed in you. Every year, I wish for you to look at me the way I look at you, but it never comes true. Every year, I wish that you would love me back, not just as a friend, but you never do. You are my wish, but you're also the very reason why I know wishes don't come true.

Then he's laughing, but nothing is remotely funny about this. It's your birthday and suddenly all he can think about is how much it stings to be reminded that you're the only thing he'll ever wish for, and still, maybe this simple wish is absurd enough that the universe will never grant him what he truly wants.

"Never mind," he says. "This whole thing is silly."

There he goes, biting his tongue again. Coward.

"No, what were you going to say?"

"You're so bossy today," Minho pretends to complain.

"It's my birthday. Tell me," you press on, and suddenly he can't find any appreciation for your stubbornness that he's adored all his life. You keep your eyes fixed on him when all he wants to do is hide from you.

What is he supposed to say to you? What can he even say? That he's spent more than a third of his life hopelessly enamored with you? That the second he utters any of this out loud, he knows it will be the end of your friendship?

And Minho can't afford to lose you. Even if it hurts, he would rather let love hurt than live in the absence of you.

"Eat your cupcake," he says instead. "I'll get some ice cream."

He makes a move to get up, and the bad habit further cements its place in his subconscious. He's always running away from you when you're supposed to be the person he can be the most open with. This is how he knows he doesn't deserve you.

But you reach for his wrist and it makes him still, the feeling of your hand sliding downward to hold onto his fingers. He's used to the feeling of your smaller hand in his, used to how he can hear his heartbeat in his ears whenever you lace your fingers together.

What he isn't accustomed to, is the look on your face this very second, akin to the one you wore two years ago as you sat on the other side of his kitchen island, asking him if you should go.

Expectant and hopeful; you're holding something back too.

The words that slip from your lips are ones that he never imagined you would say to him.

"I've waited for you long enough."

His poor excuse of retrieving ice cream is all but forgotten as he stares at you, doe-eyed and despairingly confused. "What is that supposed to mean?"

You take a breath, and Minho wonders if this is how he looked every time he wanted to say something only to back down in the end.

Then it all comes rushing out.

"For a while, I thought there might've been something between us, something more than just friendship. I don't know why I thought that, I just had a feeling. On the day of our graduation, I thought you would finally kiss me or at least say something, but you didn't. Whenever I went on dates, I wanted you to tell me not to go, that I was wasting my time with those guys that couldn't make me laugh because they weren't you. You never said anything, you never did anything. I waited every birthday just like I waited tonight. You're still holding it over me and I'm starting to wonder if you really love me too or if I imagined everything this whole time."

Your voice gets smaller toward the end, almost as if the uncertainty takes over you the longer he remains silent. He doesn't have the words for it, doesn't really have the mental capacity to process all of what you just professed. Years and years of longing, of hoping that you would come running into his arms the same way you did on the morning of your thesis defense, and it turns out that you were always the one waiting for him to reach you.

If you really love me too.

Your fingers start to loosen around his but Minho doesn't let you get away, not now and not ever again. Not when he finally knows that he's burnt up enough of your time just because he was too stuck in his head to see that you were holding a hand out for him all along.

He pulls you into his orbit and he likes to imagine that somewhere out there in the infinite universe, two stars collide when he kisses you for the first time, long overdue but still heavenly nonetheless.

He's crying but you don't seem to mind the tears. You're kissing him back and it's really all that matters. He can't think straight but he adores you to the point that his lungs ache.

"I love you," he mumbles against your lips. The sentiment comes out clumsy, half coherent but wholeheartedly sincere. "I'm sorry. I love you, I love you, fuck, I love you."

You're the one who breaks the kiss first, with your hand on his chest gently pushing him away. Panic instantly shoots through him like a lightning strike. These are the words he's been holding back for years, did he not even say them right? Did he fuck things up yet again?

You brush the tears from his cheeks, your voice so impossibly soft when you ask, "Do you mean it?"

Minho splinters into a million pieces, of course he does.

Your name falls from his lips, sounding like a prayer, like the most tender plea that's ever been uttered, "I love you the most. I'm so in love with you that it hurts. I've been yours for so long and I never said anything. Fuck, I-I'm sorry. I love you so much. I'm sorry. I-"

You bring his face to yours once more, shushing him with a kiss that makes him putty in your hands. You tell him that it's okay, and you kiss him like you forgive him. The world could be ending right now, and he doesn't think that either of you would even care very much.

Because you're the only wish of his life, and you kiss him as though you want to make up for the lost years. Because Minho feels like he's 18 again and you're the most beautiful girl in the world, wearing a smile that leaves him breathless in the most wonderful way possible.

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 06.05.2024]

[batfam-my-beloved]

AU where Batman has a "no killing" rule but that only applies to Batman

Bruce understands that people have their own form of morality and justice. He's not going to fault a soldier for doing what they have to do to protect people. It's just that he personally would probably never go that far. Not that he can't, mind you, he's fucking Batman! Just that the mental and emotional toll would fuck him up so bad he'd be a danger to himself and society.

So when it comes to his murder happy children his rule for them is: "Wait until you're 18."

Bruce: "Dickie, I know Tony Zucco killed your parents and he deserves WAY worse than a punctured lung, two broken legs, a fractured skull, and a dislocated shoulder. But you're also 10 yrs old and the parenting books say that murder at such a young age is not good for a child's emotional development. So how bout we keep him locked up in jail, good and tight, and if you're still mad about it when you turn 18 then you can have at it. Sound good chum?"

Dick, pouting and kicking rocks: "I guess."

Tim "forever 17" Drake is just counting down the days until his 18th birthday because that mother fucker has a list. He doesn't mind waiting because he god damn knows there are worse things than death one can do to someone.

Damien has been killing since he could walk and hold up a sword, so when he comes to live with his father under the "no killing until 18" rule he is NOT happy about it. Until his brothers start poking fun at him.

Damien, pouting: "It isn't fair! Todd gets to go out and kill people!"

Bruce: "Jason is over 18 yrs."

Jason: "Yeah! And besides, its not my fault you're just uncreative in how you beat up bad guys!"

Damien: "What is that supposed to mean!"

Tim: "It means that there are worse things than death but you're just too dumb to know it."

Damien, furious: "Am not!"

Jason and Tim, teasing: "Are too!"

Damien: "AM NOT!"

Jason and Tim: "Are tooooo!"

Dick, tired: "Guys, stop making fun of him. He's just gunna take it as a challenge."

Damien, determined: "Well I accept this challenge! I'll provide my superiority as a vigilantly by taking out the enemy in non-lethal yet appropriately brutal ways of punishment! Just you watch!"

Bruce, weary yet appeased: "Well at least he's not gunna attempt murder for a while."

Jason didn't come with an automatic kill switch so Bruce didn't really have to worry about it. But then Jason died and Dick got to see first hand as to why Bruce had a no killing rule for himself. The insurmountable destruction, the overall apathy for the harm to others around him, the deep seated rage ready to just destroy everything he comes in contact with. Alfred tells Dick that they need to stop him because Bruce won't just stop at the Joker, he'll go after Jason's mother (in this au I'm making Sheila live for the extra angst factor)and whoever else he deems even remotely responsible for the death of his son. Bruce won't care if it starts wars and conflict across nations, he will NOT stop until he gets his revenge.

So they stop him, practically have to sedated Bruce with enough tranquilizers to put down an elephant 10x over. And then they lock the Joker up in the deepest underground pits of Arkham with a broken spine and enough security measures that it's very much impossible to brake him out least you're the Batman himself. Bruce isn't happy about it at first but Alfred and Dick are there with him through it all and it helps a lot.

When Jason comes back he still doesn't know about the "no killing until your 18" rule, nor does he know the reason WHY Batman doesn't kill. So he's still angry and does his whole thing as Red Hood but when he reveals himself to Batman as Jason Todd Bruce is just so happy to see him again. And Jason is confused cuz like: "I just killed a bunch of people, aren't you disappointed?"

And Bruce is like: "I am a bit mad that you hurt Tim but other than that you are technically over 18 yrs old now so I'm going to assume you understand the weight and responsibility that is put upon you when killing someone."

Jason, softly: "What...the fuck?"

Then Jason quickly snaps back into gear with his plan, demands Bruce to choose between killing the Joker or him and Bruce hits back with: "Oh, I'd like nothing more than to kill Joker but I promised Dick and Alfred I wouldn't after almost starting an international war that one time."

Jason, extremely frustrated that his plan isn't going how he wanted to: "What. The. Fuck!"

So Jason dips and tracks down Dick so he could explain what the hell was going on. And Dick does explain. He explains the absolute monster Bruce almost turned into when Jason was murdered and how Bruce would most definitely not stop at the Joker if given the chance.

Dick: "You don't understand Jay, it was bad! Like really, really bad! He was going to kill your mom!"

Jason, shocked: "The fuck?!"

Dick: "He still has her on a tracker! We found him just before he killed Joker, but he still managed to paralyze him from the neck down!"

Jason, slightly disturbed: "That was him!"

Dick: "He was beating Joker's ass with a crowbar! And even after we managed to sedated Bruce and pull him off the clown we still had to make sure that Joker was locked up good and tight underground because if Bruce even caught a glimpse of him in a photo he'd go into another spiral!"

Jason, horrified: "What....the fuuuuuck???"

[dixons-sunshine]

daryl and wife reader having a mini 3 year old daryl and shes sassy like her mama also shes really smart and daryl just being the best father and husband to be ❤️❤️

Daddy's Little Girl | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

*GIF isn't mine*

Summary: Life in your little home in Alexandria was amazing. You had a wonderful husband and a beautiful daughter you couldn't be more proud of, especially since she brings out parts of your husband you couldn't help but admire.

Genre: Fluff

Era: Alexandria, post Saviour war, post the building of the bridge

Warnings: None.

Word count: 965

A/n: This sucks so bad. I didn't really know where to go with this and scrapped so many attempts, so I'm sorry for the bad quality. I hope this is still somewhat enjoyable at least.

Rick never went missing in this because I'm in my feels after seeing him look for a gift for RJ.

It's not a major plot point, but there are mentions of Rick in this. Also, my default name for any fics involving Daryl having a daughter will be Hazel because I've grown to love the nickname I came up with for my last Dad!Daryl fic, which is Hazelnut.

As always, my requests are open for any TWD requests, as well as Scud Frohmeyer requests.

—

“No, Daddy. You can't.”

“'Course I can,” Daryl retorted playfully, taking the purple crayon from his daughter's hand. “Yer not even usin' the crayon, Hazelnut. Yer jus' holdin' it while yer colourin' with the red crayon. I need the purple more than ya do righ' now.”

Hazel huffed and folded her small arms over her chest, sending Daryl her version of a glare that the archer found absolutely adorable and amusing. “Not fair, Daddy. Gonna use it soon.”

“Until then, I'll use it. Once you need it, jus' ask, alrigh'?” Daryl told her, and chuckled when he saw her huff again and reluctantly continue to draw with the red crayon.

Daryl looked up and locked eyes with you, amused smiles on both of your faces. You were seated on the couch with Dog's head resting on your lap, fixing up one of the archer's favourite shirts while he entertained your daughter as she waited for Michonne to come pick her up for a sleepover with RJ. Daryl looked back down at his piece of paper and continued on with his drawing while you continued on with fixing up his shirt.

You silently listened to Hazel's happy babbling, smiling fondly at the father and daughter duo drawing stick figures and shapes. Suddenly, Hazel huffed again and threw the crayon down in frustration, crossing her arms over her chest.

“What's wrong, baby?” you asked, glancing at your daughter.

“I don't want to draw anymore,” she declared, crawling over to Daryl and clambering into his lap for a hug.

Daryl instantly dropped the crayon in his hand and embraced her, pulling her into his chest. Hazel nuzzled her face into his neck, giggling at the kisses Daryl placed on her face.

“It tickles, Daddy,” she giggled, bringing her small hands up to his stubble.

Daryl smiled and abruptly stood up with Hazel in his arms, eliciting a yelp of surprise from her that was quickly followed by more laughter. Daryl spun her around while placing more playful kisses all over her face, careful not to drop her. Dog jumped up from the couch with a happy bark, circling around Daryl as he wagged his tail happily.

You laughed at the shrieks of laughter that fell from your daughter's mouth. “Don't drop her, Daryl,” you warned him when he stumbled slightly. You turned your head when you heard a knock on the door.

“Never,” Daryl replied, placing one final kiss on Hazel's cheek before placing her down on the floor. He ruffled her hair before stalking over to the door, you getting up from the couch and trailing behind him.

Daryl opened the door and the two of you came face to face with Michonne, who had RJ perched on her hip. She smiled at the two of you in greeting, rubbing RJ's back soothingly.

“Hey, guys. Is she ready to go?”

Daryl hummed and turned around, calling out to Hazel. “Hazelnut! Auntie Michonne's here!”

You grabbed the sleepover bag that you had placed near the door earlier that day and handed it over to Michonne. Hazel's footsteps got louder until she ran up to you, hugging you before hugging Daryl. She then turned to Michonne and took her outstretched hand.

“Bye, Mama. Bye, Daddy.”

“Bye, sweetheart. Be good for Michonne and Rick, okay?” you greeted her.

She nodded and took off with Michonne, happily conversing with RJ while they walked. You closed the door and locked it, turning around to face Daryl. The archer smiled at you and pulled you into his arms, hugging you tightly.

You were confused but soon hugged him back, nuzzling your face into his chest. Daryl placed a soft kiss on the top of your head before resting his chin there, slightly rocking you side to side.

“Not that I'm complaining in the slightest,” you mumbled, pressing a kiss against his chest. “But what's with the hug?”

Daryl remained silent for a moment. “S'jus' 'cause I love ya. And I can't believe how lucky I am to have ya and Hazel in my life.”

“Well, believe it, Dixon. I love you so much. So does daddy's little girl,” you replied, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips.

“I love ya both too. Yer the most important people in my life. I'd die fer ya.”

“Hopefully it never comes down to that. You're dying a very old man if I can help it,” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Daryl wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against him. “Dun' worry. I ain't plannin' on dyin' on ya anytime soon.”

You smiled at him. “Good to know. That's really good to know.”

[dovveri]

the candy man

synopsis: your girlfriend has convinced you to stay in and watch scary movies for halloween

warnings: its fluff but its also halloween so mentions of scary movies, murder, poisoning etc.

w/c: i’ll update this when i get home and on a laptop 😗

a/n: i despise halloween AND horror movies never seen one in my life aside from coraline and that took me like 6 tries to get thru the whole thing and i didnt do it until like… this year but id watch a horror movie for sana i GUESS 🙄

🕸 ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°

"have you heard of the candy man?"

"...no."

"in 1974 ronald clark o'bryan took his son out trick or treating and managed to slip in some sherbet into his son's candy bag. then when they got home and his son asked him if he could have some candy before bed he said sure and picked out the sherbet stick and gave it to his son. instead of sherbet though, it was cyanide and his son died not long after."

sana gives you a look from the tv to where you're bundled up under the blanket fort you've built in your shared living room.

"what?"

"do you think i'm going to poison you?" she giggles, coming to join you and shuffling around so you're sharing the blanket. she pokes your side in fun.

"no... but..."

"but?"

"sanaaaaa do we have to watch this? you know i hate scary movies!"

sana laughs, squeezing in even tighter against you, "it's halloween! show a little holiday spirit!"

"i hate halloween!"

"because of the candy man?"

you pout, "yes..."

"why would he go after you? actually why did he kill his own son?"

"he was in debt and wanted to claim life insurance on his son."

sana hums, pretending to think, "you have life insurance right babe?"

"sana!"

she laughs again, kissing your cheek even as you try and dodge it, huffing. she pokes at your cheek with a grin, "i'll protect you from all the candy men out there don't worry."

"you're a stick you won't be able to protect me from anything-"

"hey!"

"-like if ghostface came after us right now you'd probably trip and fall onto their knife yourself before you could even try to protect me."

"that's it." you feel her hands dive for your sides, tickling immediately, crawling on top of you when you scramble back to try and get away laughing, hands coming down to try and find hers to stop her, but she's persistent, yanking them away and continuing her assault on your sides.

"sana- stop- haha- stop- i can't- sana!-"

"you still think i'm helpless? can you get away from me now?"

"no that's- what are you going to- haha- tickle them to death-?"

"oh you're really pushing it aren't you-"

her hands start sliding down your sides, grabbing your legs and feet and then resuming her assault on the bottoms of your feet. you squirm, kicking trying to move away, still laughing uncontrollably, the blanket fort coming undone.

"stop- stop- yield! i give up- you can protect me- i give up!"

sana finally lets go of your feet, laughing and coming back up to kiss you. you wrinkle your nose and push her away by the shoulders, "go wash your hands you just touched my feet."

"you planning on sucking my fingers or something?"

"what?! sana!" you blush bright red while she runs away, still laughing brightly, the sound filling the little apartment you shared. you roll your eyes at her antiques, cheeks still flushed while you rearrange the fort and snacks, waiting for her to come back.

she grins, jumping on top of you as soon as she's finished, cuddling into you immediately and grabbing the remote.

"ready?" she looks up at you, eyes sparkling.

"no." you grumble, pulling the blanket up to your nose, ready to duck behind it at any moment.

she giggles, kissing your cheek and pressing play.

🕸 ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°

you come to realise that your girlfriend is a terrible person to watch a horror movie with.

it's bad enough that you're scared shitless at every scene, jumpscare or not, but sana was a screamer. for fun.

“is it over?”

“babe nothing’s happening!”

you refuse to peek up from behind the blanket after your latest scare. sana had jumped up from her seat from out of nowhere, nothing had been happening on screen, she had only wanted to scare you. and it worked. you had screamed and clung to her, shutting your eyes and feeling yourself nearly go into cardiac arrest.

she had laughed, letting you down gently and had even taken a picture of your teary-eyed face in glee, saving the photo and cuddling back into you as if nothing had happened.

“i don’t believe you.”

“i’m sorry you’re just too cute not to mess with. i promise i won’t do it again though. pleeeease? come out?”

you grunt, weak to her, slipping the blanket just a little lower so half an eye is squinting at her grinning face.

“yay!” she kisses your forehead, hugging your neck and squishing your cheeks together even through the blanket.

you roll your eyes, “no screaming.”

sana gapes at you, “i can’t control that!”

“control it.”

“i can’t!”

you sulk down, muttering to yourself incomprehensibly, telling yourself there was only an hour left of this, you could do this, you could avoid getting a heart attack.

“i don’t even know what’s going on right now. this movie makes no sense!”

“shh! they’re about to go into the cabin!”

“but why! why would they do that! that’s so stupid oh my god they’re all going to die-“

“shh!”

you sit back after being shushed again, staring blankly at the screen while the college students shove each other trying to get each other to go into the haunted cabin first.

creak.

your heart stops, a cold sweat building up.

“s-sana- sana-“ you poke your girlfriend, eyes flicking around the room in terror.

she shushes you again, completely focused on the tv screen.

“sana- did you hear that?” you’re whispering, tugging on her sleeve, trying to get her attention.

“hear what?” her eyes are still locked on the screen, only giving you half her attention.

okay if your girlfriend didn't hear it than maybe it wasn't anything to worry about. you were just being paranoid. this was exactly one of the reasons why you didn't want to watch horror movies on the night of halloween.

the tv crackles and then goes out.

sana blinks, looking at you in confusion before standing up to go check the tv.

the fairy lights you have strung up around the room go out as well.

you can't help the whimper you let out, cuddling further into the blanket fort.

sana checks the powerpoints as well, humming in confusion, still not completely fearful for your lives like you were.

"it's probably just a power outage in the building babe don't worry." she comes back to the couch and tries to peel the blanket away from you.

"what if it's not?" you squeak out, still speaking in whispers.

sana turns on her phone flashlight and shines it towards you, you squint up at her.

she thinks you're too cute, coming in and pinching your cheeks, "are you scaaaaaaaared?"

"yes sana! because you decided you wanted to watch a horror movie on halloween!"

sana laughs, plopping down next to you, "i can protect you."

"we already established you can't."

"uh i'm pretty sure you conceded actually."

"whatever can you just call the neighbours? see if they're having the same problem?" you curl into her side as she laughs at you, turning off her flashlight to conserve battery and opening her call logs.

you keep your attention on your surroundings while she dials the neighbours' numbers.

"-alright thanks again! yeah you too haha happy halloween! okay babe it looks like it might just be our apartment but don't worry, i'll get the electrician to come in tomorrow and we should be fine. it can even be kinda romantic if we light some candles and all!"

"romantic or ritualistic?"

"well what kinda ritual are we wanting to perform?" she wriggles her eyebrows obscenely and you can't help but giggle, poking her forehead.

"as long as you don't summon a demon."

"not even a succubus?"

"sana!"

she laughs, standing back up to go and get the candles, "do you wanna come with? or can i leave my little baby for 2 seconds and come back with the candles?"

you honestly would've preferred to go with her but after that comment you pout, slinking back into your fort, "i'll be fine." you say curtly, not bothering to look at her and making it known you weren't happy with her teasing.

she only laughs and kisses your forehead again, which you try and dodge, before walking out of the living room to grab the matches and lights.

you shiver a little when you feel a wind breeze through as soon as she leaves, drawing the blanket closer towards you.

there's another creaking sound and you freeze.

"sana?" you call out, praying it was just sana walking around the apartment.

then there's a loud crash and you're up on your feet, heart pounding, "sana!" you call out again, maybe she just fell over something. yeah it was dark, she couldn't see, she was naturally clumsy, that made sense, she probably just fell over something. but why wasn't she responding?

you're deciding between following her into the kitchen or staying put when you feel a brush of... something on the back of your calf.

you yelp, jumping up onto the couch. this was fine, it was probably just a bit of the blanket blowing in the wind.

wait. the wind? why was the window open?

you gulp, nervously looking towards the window at the end of the hallway towards your bedroom, seeing that it was in fact wide open and the night's breeze was flowing in.

"sana if this is you it's not funny!" you huff, jumping back off the couch and stomping towards the open window, slamming it shut. if there were any ghosts or whatever, not that you believed in ghosts, surely the sound would scare them off.

you march back towards the living room, still draped in the couch blanket, determined not to let anything else scare you. it was all the cheap horror film aftereffects anyway, if this had happened any other night you would've been fine. absolutely fine. except tonight was halloween... and halloween was the one night of the year that it was okay to dress up as serial killers and creepy supernatural things and no one would bat an eye if someone was drenched in real blood running from a real murder or whatever. but it was fine! you were in your apartment, with your girlfriend, and you were totally safe. it was fine. everything was fine. why was sana taking so long?!

"sana?! are you okay?"

there’s no response again so you have no choice but to check on her. the apartment wasn’t big enough that you could shout and she wouldn’t be able to hear you.

you pull yourself up, treading towards the kitchen, mindful of any noises and squinting in the dark, trying to see if you can make out your girlfriend.

“sana?” you try call out again, frowning. maybe she just went over to the neighbours to ask for candles, she certainly wasn’t in the apartment if she wasn’t responding. you decide to go back to your phone and try call her, when you hear a creaking sound again.

you freeze, adrenaline spiking, body moving before you can think, stepping towards the sound in the hallway towards the entrance to your apartment.

you can hear your own breaths, heavy, feel the sweat on the back of your neck.

“BOO!”

you scream, flinging yourself towards the door in an attempt to run away when arms wrap around your waist, pulling you back. you continue screaming and kicking against them, tunnel vision locking onto your front door and nothing else, your fight or flight mechanism going haywire.

“-n y/n it’s okay it’s me it’s me!”

your girlfriend’s voice confuses you, but gets you to come to your senses quickly, ears taking in more sound, eyes taking in more light.

“s-sana?” your voice is shaky, on the verge of tears.

“i’m here baby i’m here.”

“w-what- w-where are you speaking from?”

“um… look up.”

you pause, tilting your head up towards the ceiling, where your girlfriend is strung up like spiderman in the dark. you’re so confused. you can make out her sheepish smile when the arms around you loosen.

“um… why are you- what are you doing?”

“um… this is- uh- this was all momo’s idea!”

the person behind you gasps, “no it wasn’t!”

you spin, taking in sana’s best friend who was dressed like a burglar, the person who had jumpscared you.

“okay it was mine but i didn’t think you would get that scared!”

you gape, mouth opening and closing, dumbfounded.

“a-are you okay? i didn’t break you did i? are you mad? i’m sorry baby i’ll make it up to you!”

“no i- just- what are you doing on the ceiling?”

“uhhh… i was going to spiderman rescue you and spiderman upside down kiss you… it was meant to be romantic!”

“how did you get on the ceiling?”

“momo helped.”

you look at the other girl who shrugs, smiling awkardly.

“do you- can you get down from there?”

“yeah! watch!”

she loosens something around her hips and comes swinging down from the ceiling, almost smacking right into you before she’s pulled back.

she turns on the light with a grin, looking absurd in a harness (not the sexy kind) and elastics she must have stolen from that free trial rock climbing session she suspiciously went to on her own and refused your company for.

“can i go now?”

sana laughs, undoing herself from the contraption she’s set up in your front entrance hallway, “yeah momoring thanks for the help. pick the restaurant and it’ll be my treat next week like i promised.

momo brightens immediately, popping a candy into her mouth and waving goodbye before skipping out the apartment to steal more trick or treat candies laid out in the apartment block.

you’re still stuck on the spot, staring at your impossible girlfriend as she struggles collecting the metres of elastic on the floor.

“sana…”

she looks up at you brightly with a smile, “yes?”

“sana i’m going to kill you.”

she frowns, standing up fully, “why?”

“sana!”

“what?!”

“you know i hate halloween!”

“i wanted to make it a better holiday for you!”

“and you nearly gave me a heart attack!”

you feel the adrenaline leaving your body as you slouch, tears coming forward from all the stress and anxiety.

sana’s eyes widen, dropping the elastics in her hand and rushing forward, cupping your cheeks, “oh no baby i’m sorry i didn’t mean to please- it’s okay i’m here now nothing’s gonna get you-“

you pout, rubbing at your eyes furiously, not wanting to cry at something that was meant to be fun, “i was worried about you.”

sana wipes your cheeks with her thumbs, “i know baby i’m sorry i won’t do this again i promise, next halloween we’re gonna stay in with all the lights on and watch my little pony okay?”

you nod, feeling very much like you deserved the baby treatment right now, “promise?”

“i promise i promise.”

you bury your head in her shoulder, squeezing her against you and breathing in her comforting scent.

after a little bit of calming down, you slap her shoulder, “i still hate you. you’re gonna have to make up for trying to pull this prank. it was so not funny!”

“ow! okay okay i will! and please don’t say that. can i get an i love you now? you can’t hate me baby…”

you pout into her neck, hitting her again lightly, “only if you don’t tease me anymore for being scared.”

“i won’t!”

“and get us ice cream from that store across town.”

“…like… right now?”

“they do delivery.”

she sighs dramatically, “fine, fine, can i hear it now?”

you pull back, smiling, “i love you even if you’re a terrible girlfriend who tried to fake rescue me from my worst nightmare.”

she beams brightly at your face again, devoid of tears, kissing you sweetly and knocking her forehead gently against yours, “i love you too my big scaredy cat.”

“sana!”

“i’m sorry no more now i promise!”