#but when I checked back it was just gone?

[pucksandpower]

Malfunction

Franco Colapinto x physician!Reader

Summary: Franco’s concussion has come and gone, but his desire to see the angel of a physician who likely saved his life has only gotten stronger … it’s just a shame that he tends to lose any semblance of composure when you’re around

Note: this is the much requested second part to Malpractice … but even better than the first part if I do say so myself 🫣

The Las Vegas Grand Prix is a distant blur in Franco’s memory. The crash. The pain. The disorientation.

But there’s something else that lingers, too. Something soft that refuses to leave him alone.

It’s the image of you, kneeling in front of him, your hands steady even as his world spun. Your voice cutting through the haze, your gaze sharp and intense, demanding his attention. The way you pushed him to stay alert, to pay attention, to focus on something other than the chaos in his head.

Franco knows he owes his sanity, maybe even his life, to you.

It’s been a week since the crash, and he’s been cleared by the medical team to race again in Qatar, despite a lingering headache that’s been stubbornly hanging on. But it’s not the headache that’s bothering him. It’s the fact that you’re not here. You’re not at the track. Not in the garage. Not hovering over him like some kind of guardian angel.

He wants to see you again. Needs to.

He’s sitting in the Williams debrief room, surrounded by engineers who are talking a mile a minute about tire wear and lap times. But Franco is barely listening. He keeps checking his phone, hoping for some sort of miracle: a text, a call, anything that might tell him you’re here. That you’ve returned to the paddock.

But the screen stays empty.

“Franco, are you with us?” James Vowles’ voice cuts through his thoughts, snapping him back to the present.

“Yeah, sorry,” Franco mutters, rubbing his eyes. “What were you saying about tire strategy?”

James raises an eyebrow. “It’s fine. Focus on your recovery. We’re just going over the data from today’s practice. You’ve got time. But-” He looks around, making sure no one else is listening, “-don’t be distracted during qualifying tomorrow. We need every bit of performance we can get from you this weekend.”

“Right.” Franco nods, but his mind drifts again, his gaze slipping back to his phone. It’s like the rhythm of the weekend has been broken without you here, without the sharpness of your voice telling him he’s being an idiot, without your soft, steady presence making everything feel a little more manageable.

A soft knock sounds at the door, and Alex steps in, his casual smile immediately making the room feel a little lighter. His eyes flicker over to Franco. “How’s it going, mate?”

Franco immediately perks up. “Alex! You’re a sight for sore eyes.” He straightens up in his chair, suddenly interested in the conversation.

Alex raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Is that because you’ve missed me, or because I bring good news?”

“Both,” Franco grins. “But seriously, I’ve been thinking about something, and I need your help.”

Alex folds his arms, giving Franco a knowing look. “Uh oh. What have you gotten yourself into now?”

“It’s about Y/N,” Franco says, leaning forward with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Alex’s eyebrows shoot up, but he doesn’t seem too surprised. He sighs, already knowing where this is headed. “Ah, I should’ve known.”

“No, listen,” Franco presses, his voice a little more serious. “I need her to come to Abu Dhabi. She has to be there. I-” He pauses, trying to put his feelings into words. “I’ve been thinking about her all week. I just … I need to see her again.”

Alex raises both hands in mock surrender. “Whoa, whoa. Slow down. You want me to convince her to come to a race just so you can see her again?”

Franco shrugs, looking entirely unapologetic. “Yeah. Pretty much.”

Alex shakes his head, a bemused smile tugging at his lips. “You really have it bad, don’t you?”

Franco hesitates, his smile faltering just slightly, then nods. “I do.” His expression softens. “She helped me when I didn’t even know what was happening. I’ve never had someone take care of me like that.”

Alex takes a moment, studying Franco’s face, then lets out a long breath. “Look, I can’t make any promises. Y/N’s a resident physician. Her schedule is insane. She barely has time to breathe, let alone fly out to the Middle East for a race. But-” He hesitates, as if weighing his next words carefully. “But I’ll ask her. I’ll see what I can do. But no promises, okay?”

“Just ask,” Franco says urgently. “I don’t care if it’s a long shot. I need her there.”

Alex chuckles, shaking his head. “Alright, alright. I’ll ask. But you owe me a beer if this works.”

“You got it,” Franco grins, already feeling the relief of having put his request into motion. “Thanks.”

***

It’s late by the time you’re wrapping up your shift at the hospital. The weight of your scrubs feels heavier than usual tonight, your body aching after hours of rounds and consultations. You’ve barely slept all week, the demands of your residency taking up every last ounce of energy. All you want to do now is crash into bed and forget about the world for a few hours.

But then your phone buzzes in your pocket, and the familiar name on the screen makes you stop in your tracks.

Alex.

You sigh, glancing around the empty hallway before answering. “Hey, Alex. What’s up?”

“Hey,” Alex greets you, his tone casual but there’s a hint of something else in his voice. “How’s it going?”

You roll your eyes, leaning against the wall. “You know, same old. Patients, paperwork, more patients. I swear, I’m starting to see people’s illnesses in my dreams at this point. What’s up?”

“Well, funny you should mention that,” Alex says with a chuckle, “because I’ve got a bit of a favor to ask.”

You brace yourself. “What now?”

“I need you to come to Abu Dhabi.”

There’s a beat of silence. “What? No. I can’t just drop everything and fly to Abu Dhabi. You know how insane my schedule is right now.”

“I know, I know,” Alex says quickly. “But listen, it’s not for me. It’s for Franco.”

You blink, unsure if you heard him right. “Franco? What does he have to do with this?”

“He, uh, well, he’s been asking about you. He really wants you to come. He … he kind of needs you there, Y/N.”

You frown. “Needs me? What, like for a medical emergency?”

“No, no,” Alex quickly reassures you. “It’s not like that. He’s just — he’s been a bit, you know, off since the crash. He keeps talking about how much you helped him, how much he needs to see you again. He’s … kinda, well, taken with you.”

You pause, processing the unexpected request. “Wait. You want me to go to Abu Dhabi just to … see Franco?”

Alex sighs. “I know it’s a lot to ask, and I totally get it if you can’t make it. I just thought I’d put it out there, because he’s really … well, he’s really worried about seeing you again.”

You take a deep breath, staring at the floor. There’s a tug at your chest. Franco’s crash. The way he looked when he stumbled into the garage, his eyes unfocused, his voice thick with concussion. And how you couldn’t help but care, couldn’t help but feel something stir in your chest as you took care of him.

“I don’t know,” you say softly. “I don’t know if I can get time off. I’ve got a million things to do.”

“Please,” Alex pleads, his tone sincere. “Just think about it. I’ll take care of the rest. You don’t have to worry about anything. Just — just come for the weekend. For him.”

You hesitate for a long moment. Your exhaustion is overwhelming, but so is the pull to be there for Franco, to check in on him after everything that happened.

“Okay,” you say finally, your voice quiet but firm. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Alex lets out a relieved breath. “Thank you. You have no idea how much this means to him.”

“I’ll talk to my supervisor tomorrow and see if I can get a couple of days off. I’ll let you know.”

“Great. I’ll keep you posted. Thanks again, really.”

As the call ends, you press the phone to your ear, staring at the blank hospital hallway. Something in your chest stirs, a mix of curiosity and something else you can’t quite name. You promised yourself you wouldn’t get involved with any of these drivers. But Franco … there’s something about him. Something you can’t shake.

You don’t know what’s going to happen in Abu Dhabi. But you know one thing for sure: you’re going to see him again.

***

Franco is buzzing with energy as he walks away from the Williams garage after FP2. The track is alive with its usual Friday hum: team radios squawking, mechanics wheeling equipment, fans pressing against barricades for a glimpse of the action. Normally, this is his favorite part of the weekend — the calm between sessions when he can breathe and think through what’s next.

But today, his thoughts are miles away.

You.

Alex told him you’d agreed to come. He’s spent all week mentally preparing for this moment, imagining what he’ll say when he sees you again. He’d told himself he’d play it cool. That he wouldn’t come off as desperate or weird. That he’d be charming and effortless.

And now, as he walks toward the Williams motorhome, he’s running through those lines in his head like a script. But then, through the glass doors of the motorhome, he spots you.

You’re sitting at a table with Lily, wine glasses between you. You’re mid-laugh, one hand lightly gesturing, the other wrapped around the stem of your glass. The sound of your laugh doesn’t reach him, but your expression — warm and animated — is enough to stop him in his tracks.

Franco stares, frozen. For a second, he’s not a professional driver or a smooth-talking twenty-one-year-old. He’s just a guy, floored by the sight of someone he’s been thinking about far too much.

And then, because the universe has a cruel sense of humor, he walks straight into the glass door.

The sound is embarrassingly loud — a deep, resonant thud that draws the attention of a couple of mechanics nearby. Franco stumbles back, clutching his forehead as the door wobbles slightly on its hinges.

“Oh, come on,” he mutters under his breath, blinking rapidly to clear the stars dancing in his vision.

Inside, Lily gasps, already half out of her chair. But you — you just press a hand to your mouth, visibly trying to suppress a laugh.

Franco pushes the door open this time (successfully, thank God) and steps into the motorhome, trying to salvage whatever remains of his dignity.

“Didn’t know the motorhome was defending itself today,” he says, flashing a crooked grin as he rubs his forehead.

You’re still smiling, but there’s a glint in your eyes as you take a sip of wine. “I see you’re still finding creative ways to injure yourself.”

Lily, standing now, gives him a once-over. “Are you okay? That sounded bad.”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Franco says quickly, though he’s still holding his head. “Just testing the structural integrity of the door. Very solid. Great engineering.”

Lily rolls her eyes, muttering something about grabbing an ice pack before disappearing into the kitchen.

You lean back in your chair, tilting your head as you look at him. “You know, you really don’t have to keep hurting yourself just to get my attention. There are easier ways.”

Franco blinks, momentarily thrown off by the teasing edge in your voice. But then he recovers, his grin widening. “Oh, so you noticed me, huh? Mission accomplished.”

You arch an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Hard not to notice when someone face-plants into a door.”

“Ouch,” Franco says, clutching his chest dramatically. “First my head, now my ego. You’re ruthless.”

You laugh, setting your glass down. “I’m a doctor. I call it like I see it.”

“And what do you see?” He asks, leaning casually against the doorframe (or at least trying to — he slightly misjudges the angle and has to correct himself, which makes him look anything but casual).

“I see someone who might need another concussion test if they keep this up,” you say dryly, though there’s a hint of amusement in your tone.

Franco seizes the opening. “Oh, you’ll give me a test? What, right here? Should I sit down? Or maybe lie down? Whatever you need, angel, I’m ready.”

You roll your eyes, but the corners of your mouth twitch. “I’m off-duty, thank you very much. And stop calling me angel.”

“Why? It suits you,” Franco says without missing a beat. He steps closer, his grin turning just a bit sheepish. “You did save me, after all.”

“From driving with a concussion,” you reply, crossing your arms.

“Still counts,” he says, shrugging. “So … you’re really here. Thought maybe Alex was messing with me.”

You tilt your head, watching him carefully. “Why would he do that?”

“I don’t know, for fun? He likes to mess with me,” Franco says, his grin turning rueful. “But I’m glad he wasn’t. It’s … it’s good to see you.”

Your expression softens, and you glance down briefly before meeting his eyes again. “It’s good to see you too.”

For a moment, there’s a silence between you. Not awkward, but charged. Franco shifts his weight, scratching the back of his neck. He’s been preparing for this moment all week, but now that you’re standing in front of him, he’s at a loss.

Lily reappears then, an ice pack in hand. She tosses it to Franco, who catches it against his chest. “Here,” she says. “For the door-shaped bruise you’re probably going to have.”

“Thanks,” Franco says, pressing the pack to his forehead. He winces slightly but keeps his gaze on you.

Lily looks between the two of you, her lips twitching as if she’s trying not to laugh. “Well, I’ll leave you two to … whatever this is,” she says, grabbing her glass and retreating toward the other end of the motorhome.

Franco watches her go, then looks back at you, his smile softening. “So … you’re here for the whole weekend?”

You nod. “Lily convinced me to stay. Said I needed a break.”

“You do,” Franco says quickly. “Definitely. Big time.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Oh? And why’s that?”

“Because …” Franco hesitates, then decides to go for it. “Because I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since Vegas.”

You blink, caught off guard by his honesty. “Franco-”

“I’m serious,” he interrupts, stepping closer. “I know I’m probably coming off like a total idiot right now, but I don’t care. You-” He gestures vaguely, as if struggling to find the right words. “You’re different. You’re not like anyone else here.”

“That’s because I’m not supposed to be here,” you say, your tone light but your eyes searching his. “I’m a doctor, Franco. Not meant for … whatever this world is.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he says, shaking his head. “You could be anything, and I’d still want to know you. You’re …” He trails off, then laughs at himself. “God, I’m bad at this.”

You laugh too, finally relaxing. “A little, yeah.”

“But I’m trying,” he says, his expression earnest now. “And I’ll keep trying, even if it means walking into more doors. Or walls. Or whatever else gets in my way.”

You shake your head, exasperated but undeniably charmed. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously into you,” Franco counters, grinning.

You groan, but your smile betrays you. “Stop. That was awful.”

“Was it?” Hr teases, leaning just slightly closer.

“Yes,” you say firmly, though there’s a hint of laughter in your voice. “And I’m not letting you use your injuries as an excuse to flirt with me.”

“Then what excuse should I use?” He asks, tilting his head.

You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling now. “How about none? Just be normal.”

“Normal,” Franco repeats, as if testing the word. “Okay. I can do that. Probably.”

“Somehow, I doubt it,” you say, but your tone is lighter now, your guard lowering just a fraction.

Franco grins, sensing the shift. He might not be smooth, but he’s persistent. And right now, that feels like enough.

***

The hospital hums with its usual rhythm: the sharp beeps of monitors, the steady shuffle of footsteps, and the occasional murmur of voices echoing down sterile hallways. You’re halfway through your shift, mentally cataloging a growing to-do list, when one of the nurses finds you near the break room.

She looks far too amused for your liking, a sly smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “Hey, Doc,” she says, her tone conspiratorial. “You’ve got a patient in Room 43. Interesting case. File’s by the door.”

You glance up from your notes, immediately suspicious. “Interesting how?”

“Let’s just say … not your usual trauma,” she replies, her grin widening. “Go see for yourself.”

With a sigh, you grab your tablet and head down the hallway. You’re too tired to entertain the nurse’s cryptic humor, but curiosity tugs at you anyway. When you reach Room 43, you spot the chart hanging by the door. You pick it up and start skimming, your brain automatically processing the medical shorthand.

And then your eyes land on the complaint: penile fracture.

You freeze. Your brain short-circuits for a good five seconds.

Penile fracture. Seriously? You take a deep breath, fighting the urge to laugh or groan. It’s not unheard of, but it’s rare enough to make your day a little more … colorful.

Squaring your shoulders, you prepare yourself for what’s undoubtedly going to be an awkward encounter. Professionalism, you remind yourself. You’ve handled weirder cases.

But all of that resolve shatters the second you open the door and step into the room.

Because the patient isn’t some anonymous stranger.

It’s Franco.

Franco, lounging on the exam table like he doesn’t have a care in the world, scrolling through his phone with his free hand. Franco, the same man you’ve been dating for months, who absolutely should not be in this hospital room right now.

Your mouth opens, ready to deliver your standard introduction, but no words come out.

Franco looks up at the sound of the door, his face breaking into that familiar, devilish grin. “Hey, angel.”

“What the-” You stop yourself, gripping the edge of the clipboard like it’s the only thing tethering you to reality. “Franco, what are you doing here?”

He sets his phone down, looking at you with wide, innocent eyes. “I’m a patient. Clearly.”

You take a deep breath, setting the clipboard aside. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Nope.” He leans back slightly, gesturing toward himself with both hands. “Broken dick. You saw the file.”

Your jaw tightens as you step closer, lowering your voice. “Franco, this is a hospital. You can’t just-”

“I didn’t just anything,” he cuts in, feigning indignation. “I’m here because you abandoned me this morning. And now I’m suffering.”

You blink at him, completely thrown. “Suffering?”

“Yes!” He says, sitting up straighter, though the smirk tugging at his lips betrays any attempt at seriousness. “You left me. Alone. In bed. With …” He lowers his voice dramatically. “An issue.”

Your brain scrambles to keep up. “An issue?”

Franco sighs, as though the weight of the world is on his shoulders. “Blue balls. A raging, unresolved situation. You’re a doctor — you know how dangerous that can be.”

“Dangerous?” Your voice rises slightly before you catch yourself. “Franco, I left because I had to come to work. Like a normal person.”

“Right, but normal people don’t leave their boyfriends high and dry,” he argues, his tone edging into the realm of petulant. “Do you know how much it hurts? It’s practically a medical emergency.”

You close your eyes for a moment, pinching the bridge of your nose. “So let me get this straight,” you say slowly. “You’re here because you have blue balls. And instead of — oh, I don’t know — handling it with your hand and some lotion like a grown adult, you decided to come to my workplace and waste everyone’s time?”

“I don’t see it as wasting time,” Franco says, crossing his arms. “I see it as seeking expert care. From a very qualified, very beautiful doctor.”

“Franco,” you say warningly, but he’s already grinning.

“Besides,” he continues, his voice dropping into a teasing lilt, “don’t you think it’s romantic? I’m literally willing to suffer for you.”

“Oh my God.” You press a hand to your forehead, feeling a mix of exasperation and disbelief. “You are not suffering. And this is not romantic — it’s ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously sweet,” Franco counters, clearly enjoying himself.

You stare at him, torn between wanting to strangle him and laugh. “You know I could get in trouble for this, right? What if someone finds out I’m treating my boyfriend? Or worse, that you’re faking a medical emergency?”

“I’m not faking,” he says quickly, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “The pain in my cock is very real.”

“Franco.” Your voice is flat, and you fix him with your best no-nonsense look.

He hesitates for a beat, then leans forward slightly, lowering his voice like he’s about to confess something scandalous. “Okay, maybe it isn’t a fracture. But it is painful!”

You throw your hands up, resisting the urge to laugh despite yourself. “Unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable.”

Franco pouts, his lower lip sticking out in an exaggerated fashion. “Come on, angel. Don’t be mad. I just wanted to see you.”

“You couldn’t have waited until my shift was over?”

He shrugs. “What can I say? I’m impatient. And in my defense, you looked very cute leaving this morning.”

You sigh, shaking your head. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, you love me,” he says, his grin widening.

“Don’t push your luck,” you warn, though there’s no real bite in your tone.

Franco leans back on the exam table, looking far too pleased with himself for someone who just disrupted your workday. “So … are you gonna examine me or what?”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Do you want me to call security? Because that’s where this is headed.”

“You wouldn’t,” he says, his confidence unwavering.

You cross your arms, raising an eyebrow. “Try me.”

Franco holds your gaze for a moment, then sighs dramatically, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. “Fine. No exam. But only because I value our relationship.”

“Uh-huh,” you say, not even trying to hide your sarcasm.

He grins again, the kind of grin that’s always been your undoing. “You can’t stay mad at me, angel. Admit it.”

You roll your eyes, but a smile tugs at the corners of your mouth despite your best efforts. “Franco, you’re lucky I like you. Otherwise, you’d be on your way out of here in handcuffs.”

His eyebrows shoot up, and he smirks. “Kinky.”

“Oh, for the love of-” You don’t bother finishing the sentence, turning toward the door instead.

“Wait, wait!” Franco calls after you, sliding off the exam table. “I’m kidding! Don’t go!”

You pause, looking back at him. He’s standing there with his hands in his pockets, his expression softer now. “Seriously,” he says. “I just … I missed you. And I thought maybe this would make you laugh. Or at least roll your eyes. Which it did, so … mission accomplished?”

You sigh, feeling your resolve waver. It’s hard to stay mad at him when he’s looking at you like that — like you’re the only person in the world who matters.

“Franco,” you say, your voice quieter now. “You can’t just show up like this. I have a job to do.”

“I know,” he says, stepping closer. “And I promise I won’t make a habit of it. But … can I take you to dinner after your shift? As an apology?”

You study him for a moment, weighing your options. Finally, you let out a small sigh. “Fine. But only if you promise to behave.”

“I promise,” he says quickly, holding a hand over his heart.

“And no more faking injuries,” you add, pointing a finger at him.

“Scout’s honor,” he says, though the mischievous glint in his eye suggests otherwise.

You shake your head, exasperated but smiling. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And yet, you keep me around,” he says, grinning.

“For now,” you say, opening the door. “Now get out of here before someone sees you.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Franco says, saluting playfully as he follows you into the hallway.

As he walks away, you can’t help but smile to yourself. Ridiculous as he is, there’s no denying that life with Franco is never boring.

[rafesweetie]

⋆˚࿔ espresso ꥟ ˚⋆ — sunny!reader x rafe

“ walked in and dream-came-trued for ya! “

i believe the saying goes, “she was like a shot of espresso.” rafe didn’t think that saying could fit a person more than it could fit you.

he’d see you at parties, dancing with his sister or giggling with the pogues. you never could seem to pick a side. this whole pogue vs kook rivalry never crossed your mind, for you were simply friends with everyone in kildare. he’d see you at the beach with your friends, tanning while listening to silly pop music and sipping on a fruity canned drink. you reminded him of the sun.

there was one night where sarah cameron invited you to her place for a start-of-summer party. rafe was dealing some coke, as per usual, and his eyes followed you as you walked in, holding hands with sarah while she led you inside. he’d never understood why girls held hands with each other, but wheezie said that it’s a universal girl thing, and he ‘would never get it.’

topper elbowed rafe out of his trance, laughing about how rafe had a little crush.

“nah, nah,” rafe denied instantly. “isn’t she a pogue?”

topper shakes his head. “nope. she just hangs out with them. her parents own that flashy smoothie shop, she’s a kook,”

“…oh, that’s good,” rafe mutters. he can’t quite avert his gaze from you.

“aw man, you’re desperate,” kelce is on his other side, patting his back, making rafe grunt and shoo him off. rafe can’t relate to desperation.

his night goes on per usual, getting bundles of cash handed to him as he deals. until topper speaks up after a bit. “she just broke up with pope,” he informs rafe. “she’s on the market,”

“yeah?” rafe checks.

“yeah. you should go talk to her,”

rafe hesitates, staring at you again. you’re not a dancer by any means, but both you and sarah are wiggling your shoulders a bit when a good song comes up. rafe would assume you’re drunk, the way your giggles echo through the room and the way you spill your drink when you stumble into sarah. but he thinks that’s just you, drunk on life. he eventually speaks. “no fucking way, she’s with my sister right now. sarah would lose her shit if i talked to little miss sunshine over there,”

“yeah, well, need i remind you i’m dating sarah, so i’ll just get her away, go make out for a bit, she looks drunk,” topper offers.

“…a’ight. yeah, lets do it bro.” rafe agrees, and they both get up off the couch. rafe stands a little bit away as he grabs another vodka pink lemonade for you, maybe a subtle bribe into talking, and a beer for himself. topper talks to sarah for a bit, greets you, then leads sarah away.

rafe’s literally directly behind you, when suddenly you’re already talking to someone else. you’re pretty chatty, it seems. rafe hangs around to catch you after your next conversation. but then he looks away for one second, then you’re gone again. he spots you on the balcony, with jj maybank. then a couple minutes later, you’re with kie carrera. then you’re shotgunning a drink with sofia. holy shit. you’ve got him wrapped around your finger already, and he looks so cute chasing after you. if he’s not pushy, he’ll never get his chance. so, channeling his inner ward cameron, he spots you with ruthie (who he never would’ve assumed you would associate with. maybe you’re just being polite), and he puts a hand on your shoulder from behind, spinning you around. “y/n. right?”

you blink, not expecting the sudden interruption. but you regain yourself quickly, smiling. “hi! yeah, i am,” you say. your voice sounds as sweet as honey. “you’re rafe cameron?”

you know who he is? he shouldn’t be surprised, you seem to know everyone, but he likes that you know, anyway. “uh, yeah, yeah, that’s me,”

“well it’s so nice to meet you,” you smile up at him. “it’s funny, sofia used to mention you a lot, and obviously im close friends with your sister. but i’ve never met you before,”

“..you’re friends with sofia?” is all he can think to ask.

“mhm. i’ve known her since grade 5. we’re not like, super close now, but we were when you guys dated,” sensing his sudden aversion to talking about her, his ex girlfriend, you shut up. “um, wanna go grab a drink?”

“oh— shit, yeah, um, brought one for you, actually,” he hands you the vodka pink lemonade. “saw you drinking one earlier, so..”

“oh my gosh, thank you so much,” you say. is he that sweet? you guess so.

“yeah, ‘course. heard sarah talk about you, and it’s all been good things, so i figured i’d try and meet you myself,”

“well now you have. i’ve heard her talk about you too,” you don’t have the heart to say it hasn’t been very good things.

it feels like this awkward small talk is going in circles. but maybe that’s a good, slow way to start something.

your name is suddenly called by a group of girls a couple meters away. “it was so nice to meet you rafe. i should go, they want me,” you say softly, reaching for his hands. he remembers when you came in holding sarah’s hands. it seems to be your thing. “i’ll see you around?”

“yeah—“ he clears his throat, gaining the courage to hold yours back. “yeah. see you around, y/n,”

you smile. you could swear he’s blushing. “you’re cute,” you say softly, squeezing his hands once more before retreating away.

he feels like he just took a shot of espresso, and now he’ll be thinking of you every night.

[fastandcarlos]

Halfway Round The World For You : ̗̀➛ Max Verstappen

summary: as the two of you find long distance harder, max comes up with a solution that might just solve your problem of being so far away

A groan came from you as once again your call went unanswered, the beep of Max’s answerphone your usual greeting. You looked down at your watch again, sure that he would be awake as you quickly did the maths to figure out the current time difference between you both again. 

Whilst he was getting himself ready for the day, you were ready to see the end of it. As usual, there was one final thing that you needed to do before falling asleep, and that was to speak to Max and catch up. 

Mostly, he agreed to do it as it was his way of checking up on you. When you were so far away from him whilst he was racing, he worried about you. Were you resting? Eating? Not getting stressed at work? He never really knew the answer unless he called you and got to see for himself. 

As you were about to give up, your phone rang, making you jump. You glanced across, quickly picking up. “Hi love.” 

“Hi, I thought you were too busy for me today.” 

“Don’t be silly,” Max grinned, adjusting his phone so that you could see his face. 

Your smile turned up as you sat your phone down on your bedside table to free your hands up. As you glanced at Max though, his usual smile wasn’t there, replaced by a frown that had you worrying. 

“How’s everything going? Are you all ready for the race this weekend?” You quizzed, excited to see Max back behind the wheel for the start of the new season. 

His head nodded, with hardly any expression on his face. “The car is alright, but I’m not exactly confident.” 

His voice sounded dejected, the passion that Max usually spoke about work with had gone. He brushed his hand through his hair as he let go of a sigh which you just about managed to hear. 

“What’s going on Max?” You asked him, “and don’t say nothing, because I know you too well.” 

His heart sunk as his eyes met yours on the screen, noticing just how concerned you were. Although he was halfway around the world, you knew him like the back of your hand, picking up on all the signs that things weren’t right. 

“It’s ridiculous, isn’t it? I managed to spend most of the off season with you and I’m already missing you. I just know I’m probably not going to be able to spend any proper time with you again until summer break,” Max confessed. 

You smiled weakly as he spoke, “I’ll still come to most of your races Max, and when I can I’ll fly out to Monaco to see you, you know we always make it work.” 

“But I’m fed up of having to make it work, this isn’t how I want it to be forever, I’m so fed up of this long-distance thing.” 

You didn’t know what to say as Max’s eyes looked down from the phone, staring down at the ground. You could tell this was something that had been troubling Max for some time as he finally offloaded on you. You gave yourself a moment before responding, trying your best to figure out the right thing to say, not wanting to make Max feel any worse than he already did. 

“It’s not going to be like this forever.” 

Max wanted to believe you, but he just wasn’t sure. It had been two years of back and forth between you both, and it wasn’t getting any easier. If anything, Max found it harder, he wanted to spend more time with you, but he just couldn’t. 

“I wish you could be with me, permanently,” Max confessed. “It’s so strange how weird everything feels without you by my side. All the little things, like how we were constantly bumping into each other trying to move around your flat.” 

“I miss it too,” you assured, staring around your empty flat. “But you’ve got work, another world championship to win, and I don’t have the money to be able to fly out with you every weekend, or ever afford a place in Monaco.” 

Your words caught Max’s attention for a moment as he let go of a hum. You could tell by the way his eyes narrowed that Max was thinking about something, studying him closely as you tried to figure out what exactly was going through his head. 

Max knew that Monaco was an expensive place, and not somewhere that you wouldn’t be able to stay by himself, but that didn’t mean that it was somewhere that you could rule out, not completely anyway. 

“What about if we did something about that? What if Monaco wasn’t a place where you had to live all by yourself?” Max asked you, watching as you looked at him in confusion. 

“What are you trying to say Max?” You enquired. 

The way his smile turned up had you worrying, you knew that Max had plenty of crazy ideas, dreading to think what sort of master plan he had come up with this time. 

“I’m saying why don’t you move to Monaco, but come and stay with me. You spent most of the summer with me anyway, and work would allow you to stay there,” Max encouraged. “Even if I’m still racing, it means each time I’m home we can spend time together.” 

You went to speak, but your voice faltered, struggling to believe what you’d heard. “That’s a huge move,” you whispered, “Monaco isn’t exactly next door, it’s thousands of miles away.” 

“But it’s where I am love.” 

Your head nodded, you knew that Max had a point, but moving wasn’t an easy thing. There would be plenty of things that you’d have to leave behind, uncertain as to whether that was something that you could do. 

“It’s a huge thing Max.” 

“I know,” he frowned, worried that he had put his foot in it. “I’m not saying you need to make a decision now; I just thought it would be nice for us to be together properly. 

Max was beginning to regret his offer as he noticed the panic in your eyes. You didn’t know what you wanted, you loved your home, but you loved Max too. It was a huge sacrifice, and although you loved visiting Monaco, was it the place that you wanted to live forever? 

“You don’t need to agree, or disagree now,” Max insisted, “I’m not saying you’d have to move permanently either. But if you did move to Monaco, I’d help you every step of the way. Moving, sorting work out, finding things for you to do, I’d do whatever it took. The thought of having you there every morning though is like a dream.” 

Your hands ran through your hair, your heart racing as you overthought everything. Every possible situation, good and bad, suddenly seemed to rush through your mind as fast as a race car. 

“Can you just say something? Anything?” Max whimpered. 

Your eyes slowly flickered up to look at the screen again, your heart aching as you looked at Max, knowing that he was so far away from you. 

“I’d love to move to Monaco,” you told him, much to his relief. “It’s not going to be an easy move, but you’re right, we can’t carry on like this forever Max.” 

“Really? And you’re absolutely sure?” Max asked, wanting to double check. 

Your head nodded, sure in your heart that Monaco was the perfect place for you. “If it’s where you are, then it’s where I want to be too.” 

“You’ve got no idea how happy you’ve just made me,” Max chuckled, “I love you, I can’t wait to have you with me, to finally make my place a home for the both of us.” 

“I love you too, Max.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[daisymbin]

hiii!! can I get request #25 angst with wonwoo? thank you so much!! btw you're such an amazing writer 🩷🩷

thank you cutie!!!! 🤍

request your own: full prompt list!

check out my masterlist! // wonwoo's m.list

angst prompt #25: "how could you keep this from me?"

you were sitting on the couch when you heard the front door slam open, followed by hurried footsteps. your heart skipped a beat as you froze, your mind struggling to make sense of the situation. wonwoo. he was supposed to be gone for another two weeks—why was he back so early?

there he was, standing in the doorway with a look of frantic concern etched across his face. his eyes immediately scanned the room before landing on you, sitting there in the dim light, a bandage wrapped around your arm.

“what happened to your arm?” his voice cracked slightly as he stepped into the room, his eyes narrowing as he looked at you. “why didn’t you tell me?”

you looked up at him, startled by his sudden arrival, and the guilt hit you like a wave. "wonwoo, i—" you began, but the words seemed to catch in your throat.

he took a few steps closer, his eyes full of hurt and confusion. “jeonghan told me,” he said, voice steady but filled with an edge. “he said he drove you to the hospital earlier this week. why didn’t you tell me?”

you winced as you shifted slightly, the pain from your fractured arm a dull reminder of what you’d been trying to hide. “it’s not a big deal,” you said quickly, avoiding his gaze. “it’s just a little fall. it wasn’t worth worrying you over.”

wonwoo’s face hardened, his jaw clenching. “a little fall?” his voice was low, but there was an underlying anger in it. “you’re telling me that you—you—broke your arm and didn’t think it was worth telling me?”

you swallowed, trying to hold back the emotions threatening to spill. you hadn’t meant to upset him, hadn’t meant to make him feel this way. but now, with him standing here, looking at you with that hurt expression, it felt like the world was crashing down.

"wonwoo, i didn’t want to make you worry," you said softly, voice trembling. "you were already so busy with work. you had so much to focus on. i didn’t want to add to it."

wonwoo shook his head, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "are you serious?" he asked, his voice rising. "do you really think that’s how this works? that i’d rather not know? that you’d rather handle something this big on your own?"

you flinched at his tone, the sting of his words sinking deep. "i didn’t think it was that big a de," you whispered, guilt washing over you. "it was just a stupid mistake. a fall."

"it’s not about the fall," he snapped, his eyes flashing with a mixture of hurt and anger. "it’s about you thinking you had to handle it alone. alone, when you know i’m always here for you. do you really think i wouldn’t care about something like this? that i wouldn’t want to be there for you? how could you keep this from me?"

you didn’t answer right away. instead, you looked down at your bandaged arm, guilt gnawing at your insides. you didn’t want to make him feel left out or unimportant.

"wonwoo, i didn’t want to burden you," you murmured. "i didn’t want you to feel like you had to drop everything just because of something small. you’ve been so focused on your work, and i didn’t want to be the reason you had to come back early."

he stared at you, his chest rising and falling as he took a deep breath. for a moment, the anger seemed to dissipate, replaced by an overwhelming sense of disappointment. “you think this is a burden? that me being there for you would be a burden?” his voice was softer now, though the hurt was still evident in every word.

you met his gaze, your own eyes filled with regret. "i just thought i could handle it on my own."

wonwoo stepped closer, his expression softening, but there was still a trace of sadness in his eyes. "but you’re not alone," he said quietly, almost like a plea. "you don’t have to handle everything by yourself. not when you’ve got me. and you especially don’t have to keep things like this from me."

the words hit you hard, like a punch to the gut. you hadn’t realized until now just how much he must’ve been worrying about you, even while he was away. he wasn’t just your boyfriend—he was your partner, your best friend, and you’d shut him out when he should’ve been the first person you turned to.

"i’m sorry," you whispered, feeling a tear slip down your cheek. "i just didn’t know how to tell you. i didn’t know if you’d think i was being dramatic or if you’d blame yourself for not being here."

wonwoo sighed deeply, stepping closer to you, his hand gently resting on your uninjured shoulder. "don’t apologize," he said softly. "i’m just... i’m just hurt that you thought you had to hide it from me. you should’ve told me. you should’ve trusted me with it."

you nodded, wiping your eyes quickly. "i know. i know i should’ve. i just... i didn’t want to worry you."

he gave you a small, almost sad smile. "i’d rather you tell me, even if it’s something small to you. because to me, nothing you go through is small."

for a moment, you both just stood there, the weight of everything between you settling in the silence. there was no easy way to fix the hurt you’d caused, but you knew one thing—next time, you wouldn’t keep anything from him.

"i’m sorry," you said again, your voice quieter this time.

wonwoo sighed, brushing his thumb across your cheek. "you don’t have to keep apologizing," he murmured. "just promise me you’ll tell me next time."

you nodded, a small smile breaking through the guilt. "next time," you promised.

[willowed-wisp]

GHOST AS A DAD ( part three ) [ simon riley ]

part one | part two |

- You were surprised when Simon said he wanted to try for another baby when he was hesitant to be a dad before your eldest was born. That was eight year ago…

- he just wants one more, he adores how cute your babies are. And how attracted he gets seeing you pregnant.

- It wasn’t much of a surprise to you when you didn’t feel too great. Exhausted, a bit nauseous but not vomiting and so turned on. Not that Simon was complaining… but he was away, and would be longer than his usual one or two months.

- It would be your little surprise to him- ultrasounds in hand for when he came home.

- Turns out you were about eight weeks gone at the first ultrasound and when the technician started taking a closer look, you started to get unnerved. “Is everything okay with the baby?”

- “The babies are growing nicely…”

- “Did you just say… babies?” Then she faced the screen to you. Two shadows in your belly… “Twins?”

- Too early to tell the genders, but they would be when your Lieutenant returned back.

- You didn’t want to tell anybody before Simon, so you wore baggy clothes- hoping nobody would notice the unusually large belly as you entered your second trimester.

- No birth defects were spotted on your 12 week scan. And you were told a loose guess on what the gender was. But they couldn’t be sure until your 19th week.

- Simon returns back home to his favourite meal. “Where are the kids?” He seemed concerned. You were sat down, no kids in sight and a brown envelope in front of you.

- “They’re over at Tommy and Beth’s, they thought we could do with a night alone,” His face relaxed, though disappointed. He needed his tattoo coloured in again. “I got you something…”

- You took advantage of him opening the envelope to rear your way around the table. In the envelope, was a picture of the ultrasound and the test.

- Let’s just say, he spent a good 20 minutes on his knees hugging your stomach.

- He didn’t care what gender they were just that they were healthy.

- He made sure he was there for the birth. “Mr and Mrs Riley, a boy and a girl…”

- Like what’s been said before… he’s so girl dad coded.

- He had the boys from 141 help decorate the nursery.

- Johnny suggested pink and blue camo wallpaper and Simon nearly hung him from the baby mobile.

- Simon didn’t wish for any of his kids to join the military.

- The amount of medication he takes to get by in the day, he can’t sleep unless he’s at home…

- Simon is perfect for twin duty- holding both on his wings. In his grey fitted T-shirt, a bottle in each hand. Feeding the twins, in that light his eyes were russet undercoated with mauve circles. From the bed, you could feel that heat. The smouldering hearth of fatherly love.

- Simon was born to be a father, he just hadn’t known it.

- Can’t tell them apart and constantly mixes them around when they are younger. Practically identical- peering up to him with his own eyes.

- Simon marvels when the pair just stare at each other. “Are they sizing each other up, or what?” Makes you burst out laughing

- “When I stare at you I’m not planning how to murder you?”

- “Sure about that, love?”

- Simon taught your son to protect his sisters, “you’ve gotta watch our for everyone when I’m here and when I’m not,” and your son definitely listened, because whenever Simon was away- your son would make sure you ate, had put everyone else to bed and would comfort his younger siblings and even your eldest daughter when she started getting bullied and you just knew Simon put him up to it.

- Simon took care of the rest when he was back.

- When your eldest was being bullied and you had to have a parental meeting… Christ on Earth, your husband nearly had the bully’s dad in tears, “Your son ever picks on my li’l girl again… put ‘im in check or I will…”

- You’d never been so attracted to him before. And he gave your daughter a fist bump leaving school grounds, “Get ‘im by the ear next time and drag the bastard to a teacher…”

- Not surprised that the school phoned you the next day.

- You gave Simon an earful, but he wound you down with sweet neck kisses from neck to chest… and ended up riding him on the backseat on the Land Rover waiting for your daughter to finish school.

- That’s how he gets out of most disputes- you’re lucky you aren’t knocked up straight after births

- Your son’s caring and strong attitude stretched into his teenhood- until your son himself started dwelling on joining the SAS. The twins didn’t understand what the SAS were- being 8 at the time your son asked and enquired with his father.

- Simon has never wished for one of your kids to join his career because good men die. He knew that more than anyone.

- But he would train your son to be the best survivor and best trainee he could be

- He turned into a Simon junior, only having a sprinkle of your genetics. Only an inch shorter than his dad but Simon would give him a run for his money

- Simon definitely adapts to different ages very well, he goes all cutesy when they’re kiddos but when they start growing up- he’s more protective and nurtures them.

- He teaches them to look out for each other- like he had with his brother and mum.

- Tells them that if he didn’t come home, to take care of their mumma… but luckily he always comes back.

- He had to, he wanted to see the twins look miles apart from each other growing up.

- Tomboy girl and computer nerd boy.

- Simon loved his family, even when being used as a makeup mannequin and a nail polish model from your youngest daughter when playing dress up with the eldest

- It was different to the war paint he used around his eyes.

- He’d even let her put a bow in his hair.

- BRIGHT PINK BOWs, you’ve never laughed so hard and your military-bound son shakes his head.

- Every birthday that goes around he always whispers to you, “This is what I come home for…”

————

masterlist

taglist:

@thychuvaluswife @foxygirl-4287 @1-800-g00ber

[tracklessreason]

Hi. It's me again.

WHERE THE FRICK IS BUMBLEBEE?! Sorry, let me calm down and retry.

Thank you for answering my last ask, I can't help but notice how no one knows where Bee's ghost is. And Megatron is the one looking into the Matrix... Is he haunting Megatron? Trying to stop him from doing it? Helping him?

Is Optimus's ghost following Ratchet around like a sad puppy?

Also just the pairings- Jazz with Megatronus? THat sounds... like fun.

Do the primes miss the other Primes and ask their host if they can check on the other bots that got shrapeneled? Maybe one of them asks if they can find a way to talk with the others... or maybe they can talk trough the hosts... maybe... (ah ah possessed arc)

(PS I really vibe with Hive's whole deal, he is very cool :D and I'm devastated that I'm the one that discovered how he explodes)

Hug hug!

Hi again!!! Don't worry, Bee is still here!

His spirit is just...struggling. He's weak at first, flickering like a dying light bulb. He hasn't left the fractured core of the Matrix still in his corpse, but his soul signature is so weak no one can find him. He's just sort of trapped there for a while, in the burnt out room he died in. Until Megatron of course.

Megatron breaks into the autobot base, walks past every sleeping mech he could easily have snuffed, and steals the Matrix core, and by unintentional extension, steals Bumblebee. Now at first, Bee is rightfully upset. He hates being at the gloomy decepticon base, he hates Megatron for taking his voice, he's just mad. Time passes as Megatron tinkers with the core, and Bee regains strength enough to....throw things???

It shouldn't be possible. Somehow this unstable remnant of the Matrix doesn't contain him, but merely houses him, and as he grows stronger, he can appear as an apparition to Megatron. He uses it almost solely to hinder him. With no voice (even ghost Bee gets no respite) all he can really do is mess up Megatron's workspace and insult him through pantomime. Really he doesn't understand why Megatron puts up with it, but aside from the occasional fit of rage at his antics, the decepticon leader ignores him as much as possible and puts his all into trying to restore the Matrix.

Before long he starts having one sided conversations with Bumblebee. Its mostly complaints at first, and insults towards him and the autobots and whatever else goes wrong in his life outside of this little workshop Bee cant leave. It soon gives way to more private matters; intentionally or not, Megatron is revealing his very convoluted, very mixed feelings about Optimus Prime.

The war has gone on too long, why couldn't that idiot just see things from his perspective, he deserved to die, he will be brought back, how could his oldest friend just leave him like this...

To Bee it sounds...exactly like how Optimus felt about Megatron, just drowned in molten anger issues. Against his self preservation instinct, Bee decides to work towards putting this whole mess to bed. Nothing better to do.

With what limited knowledge and communication he has, he does his best to try and help Megatron fix the Matrix. They have spats still, and plenty of set backs, but things smooth over when Megatron (begrudgingly) admits to feelings of regret over taking Bee's voice. As an olive branch, Bee explains something to Megatron that he's been dying to know: how Optimus died.

Things sour fast. Megatron is determined to murder Starscream, Bee is frustratedly trying to explain that if he does so, this little partnership of convenience is over, and he will ensure that the Matrix is never restored. The end of the war relies almost solely on Megatron reeling in his damn anger, and Bee doesnt intend to allow any slip ups. He has no idea how this will end when Megatron leaves the workshop that night.

On the other side of things, the Primes are having a real...weird time?? The ones without hosts can communicate with each other, but the other four are basically cut off from all but their hosts. They don't have the ability to take control anymore, and even if they did, their hosts are nowhere near as easy to possess, nor as willing, as Hive Prime was. Ratchet especially has threatened to tear the Matrix metal from his frame and grind it to dust if Prima so much as thinks about trying it. The other three hosts are similarly put off.

Once again the Primes are relegated to giving advice, but it's not advice anyone seems to want, and yeah, it's mostly because of the wild pairings. Megatronus is constantly clutching his pearls over Jazz's laid-back attitude and deliberate ignorance of his wishes. Prima's calm rationality does little to temper Ratchet's snappy demeanor and only really gets on his nerves (how can you be so calm after what you all did?). Ironhide straight up refuses to acknowledge Quintus. Drift is probably the only one feeling alright with all this. Alpha Trion is generally reasonable, and isn't interested in having control over Drift's form, nor was he interested in it with Hive, so they just vibe like college roommates.

It's uncomfortable, but the Primes are used to sharing space. The worst part is actually sharing it with fewer mechs than usual. The Primes all miss each other to varying degrees, but for the most part are either too egotistical to admit it, or think it improper to mention.

Of course, grand prize for worst ghost time currently goes to Optimus. Dying, watching Bee suffer, feeling his friend's life force extinguish...

He might as well be a husk right now, full on silent treatment is all he's capable of at the moment. The other Primes know better than to try and speak with him. This is their doing to begin with, the channeling of their energy that strained Bee so heavily. Optimus follows the elected council around during the days, but at night he sits outside the room where Hive's body rests. He was there the night that Megatron broke in.

It takes immense effort to travel far enough out from the base to go see Megatron, and he needs several cycles to recover after every attempt, but he keeps doing it, knowing he could fade away permanently. When he gets there, he's too weak for Bee or Megatron to detect him. But he can hear their talks. He misses them both more than words can say.

(Sorry the response is so long, lol. This ask really got the gears turning in my head. I hope at least that makes up for being the one to find out that Ending 3 Hive dies bloody. I'm really flattered to hear you like him! For me that's quite high praise coming from you. Hug hug!)

[wrthzell]

hi! Could you write a Vander x male reader where Vander in his werewolf(?)/Warwick(?) form recognizes the reader, and reader also recognizes him, and is so so happy to meet his old lover again

Sorry any mistakes, English is not my first language!

𝐑𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐍 — (Vander/Warwick X Male Reader).

Note: Thank you for the request! No worries; English is not my first language either, and your request was very comprehensible. It turned out a bit short, but I hope it's to your liking.

Summary: The old memories of what could have been and what was haunt you, but after being called to the mines you once used to work on, you find that maybe your life won't have to be filled with regret and longing.

Warnings: Spoilers, don't read unless you've watched Arcane.

Key: (Y/n) — Your name. | (H/c) — Your hair colour. | (E/c) — Your eye colour.

Sickly green neon lights reflect on murky brown water, and a stomach-churning stench rises from the walls of the worn-down building; the grey impregnated itself in any surface it touched, like acrid sulfur. (Y/n) crouched in front of The Last Drop, (e/c) eyes squinting to make out any recognisable feature in what once was a haven to him.

He dusted off the dirt that had collected in the upper part of his pants and inhaled sharply, lungs long accustomed to the poisonous fog of his hometown. He pressed forward. The inside was empty—needless to check; he wouldn't find her inside. The paper felt like lead in his pocket, heavy and foreboding—a reminder of his failures and the grief that followed any Zaunite like a wailing shadow.

He hadn't gone to the mines in years, and he hadn't had to work there in such a long time that he wasn't sure what exactly they looked like after everything. The entrance was falling apart, and wood planks, detached and broken, littered the floor, and glass cracked underneath his shoes. He tightened his jaw and looked down, the pitch-black darkness of the cave illuminating with every step. 

Thump, thump, thump. The impact of his boots against the floor echoed—the caves amplified each sound closer than it truly was—and the faint noises of water dripping reached his ears along with a low rumbling. She was deeper there, had to be. His fingers rubbed the paper note inside his pocket, hope simmering inside his chest.

Thundering footsteps started to come in his direction; something metallic scratched against the walls. He raised his guard, crouching and aiming his gun at the origin of the sound. The walls illuminated in a quick flash, and a dark shadow moved too fast for him to brace himself for it, the thing colliding into his chest and throwing him to the ground.

Mismatched eyes looked straight into his, and a gaping maw with sharp teeth stopped just short of tearing his face apart. Shivers went down his spine, and his lips quivered, tears welling in his eyes as he raised a trembling hand to the creature's face. A sharp set of footsteps entered the place, the light going up again and illuminating the monster's face further. Greyish dark fur coated a familiar face and warped it into something recognisable but not completely. 

“Thought you'd want to see him.” Powder announced, her gun clanking against her belt. 

Vi stepped closer, opening her mouth and closing it before finally settling on explaining it. “It's...”

“Vander.” He held the man's face in his hands, tears falling down his eyes, a thunderous storm inside his heart. The man he loved. The man he loves. He holds him tenderly but strongly, as if afraid that when he lets go, it will all dissolve and morph back into his bleak reality.

Vander softens, resting his head against the crook of the other man's neck. A content sigh leaves his nose and ruffles the hair on the (h/c)-haired man's head. “(Y/n).”

“Sheesh, even he recognised him way faster than you did.” The blue-haired woman jabbed at her sister, the corner of her mouth pulled up in a teasing smirk. Her facade breaks as she sees a hand outstretched in her direction. 

(Y/n) reassuringly squeezes her hand, a wide smile on his lips as he unburies his head from Vander's fur and turns it towards his daughter. “Thank you.”

“You don't have to thank me. You love him as much as we do,” she laughs bitterly. Her hand, albeit hesitant, holds his tighter.

“I do. I don't know how you found him or what happened, but you brought me back to him. I haven't felt like this in so long.” His voice sounds choked, and he looks back at the pair of blue and yellow eyes, his hands caressing the rough skin. He feels Vander's strong arms curl around him, and the fur tickles his neck and arms, warm and comforting. “I love you,” he whispers in the man's ear, loud enough for only them to hear it.

“Love... you.” He answers back.

[cartoon0bssesedb1tch]

“You’ll never lose me..”

Jayce Talis x fem! Reader with abandonment issues

𖦹

Reader has locked herself up in Jayce’s room in hopes of him coming back, not knowing he’s not the same as he was before…

warning: hurt/comfort, doesn’t follow the arcane s2 plot so no spoilers, reader has a mechanical arm , very cute and fluffy!!

A/n: this is kinda short and English is not my first language so pls don’t judge me:(((

Loneliness. A feeling she loathed with every inch of her body.

She never thought she’d fall in love. Falling in love for her meant that the person she was dating would eventually leave her. But it wasn’t like that when she was with Jayce…

Jayce made her feel loved, like she actually matters… until he disappeared. Day after day, she waited for him. She didn’t want to think that he was like the others and left her for no reason but if there’s a reason..? What if it was her that’s the problem…?

All this time she was in his apartment. She lost appetite and doesn’t eat much. She tries to distract herself from overthinking but she couldn’t. Every once in a while she used to go to the lab to continue hextech since no one was there to do it but an incident happened and she had to stay home. Caitlyn used to visit and check on her as well, she used to comfort her saying, “he’s going to come back.” Or “it’s not your fault.” It was nice until she also stopped showing up.

On the other hand, Jayce came back and just killed Salo and Viktor. He needed to relax and cool down his anger… he needed her… the love of his life, the only thing that could keep him sane is seeing her.

He went her apartment, no one was there. He started to get worried, did something happen to her…? No way…

He knew of her fear of being abandoned by her loved one, it was one of the first things he noticed about her. “I’ll never leave you…” he always reassured her but he left her, although not on purpose yet there’s still a sense of guilt in him for doing so. He couldn’t even imagine what she’s going through right now.

He thought of the places he could find her that were her apartment… his apartment… He went there as fast as possible despite his injured leg. He was in front of the door he tried opening it but it was locked so he knocked.

The knock on the door startled her. Who was it? Was it Caitlyn checking on her again? No, she hasn’t heard from Caitlyn in a while either. She slowly went to her door, cautiously opening it. She slightly opened the door and she couldn’t believe her eyes… Jayce… although rugged and injured but it was still him.

“Jayce…” she felt tears welling up her eyes as she went as quickly as possible to hug him. It was actually him, not her imagination but reality. All those days she was thinking that he’s either dead or just didn’t want to be with her.

He put down his hammer to immediately hug her back he nuzzled into her soft hair as he felt himself tear up. “I was so scared…” she said softly. His rough hand went to stroke her hair in a comforting manner. “I know, I know… I am so sorry…” he said.

She looked up to him and moved hair from his face. “What happened..?” She asked. “So much happened…” he answered.

She saw the scars on his face and his injuries. “How about you take a shower then you’ll tell me what happened, okay?” She said softly as he nuzzled into her soft touch. He nodded and stepped inside since they were still in the front door.

After the shower he felt so much better, he went to the living room and saw her on the couch waiting for him. He sat down next to her and started telling her about everything, the hexcore, Viktor.. everything “I’m sorry for leaving you…” he said in the end. “You didn’t do it on purpose…” she said softly as tears rolled down her face again. “When Caitlyn told me you were gone, I thought I did something wrong… I thought it was the same scene that happened over and over again, I was left for a reason unknown to me… I was always thinking about things that might’ve happened to you… but I never thought it’ll be this…” she said.

He wrapped his arms around her in a hug, softly kissing her head. “Shh.. it’s okay, my love… You’ll never lose me, I promise.” He reassured her. She looked up and leaned to softly kissing him. He immediately kissed her back savoring her touch he oh so craved. All those days in the caved, he was alone only think about her.

They slowly pulled away and she looked into his eyes. “I.. I also have something to tell you…” she said. He looked at her a bit confused, “what is it?” She took off one of the sleeves of the sweater revealing a mechanical arm, which was poorly built. Jayce’s eyes slightly widened and touched the arm. “What… how did that happen..?” He asked. “I… I tried building weapons… you and Viktor weren’t there and there was a weapon malfunction and… it exploded… thankfully it was just my arm and not my whole upper body… I tried making myself a new arm but building with only one arm is kind of hard…” she chuckled. He continued looking at her new mechanical arm, “l’ll make you a new one… and I’ll give it cool features to it as well. He softly chuckled and rested his forehead against hers.

“I love you so much…” he said as quiet as a whisper. “I love you too..” she said back. “How about we rest for now? We both need it..” she asked him. He nodded and picked her up bridal style and carried her to the bedroom. He put her down on the bed and laid next to her. He rested his head on hers chest and she ran her fingers through his hair. “You know, I like your new look.” She said playfully. He looked up at her with his eyebrow raised. “Oh yeah?” He asked with same playful tone as hers. “Mhm.. it suits you..” she said. He chuckled and rested his head back on her chest.

He’s finally home…

[cherryspider19]

the child and doll chapter 1 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dear diary, I love my mom. she made me such a pretty doll. i shall call her isha. yes isha is a fitting name. moms not around alot so this doll will be her back up. isha tells me what to where, eat, and the proper time to go to bed. like mama. even though moms not around alot she loves me very much. she hugs me when im sad and checks under my bed and in my closet for monsters. i think shes the best mother in the world. but... she was taken from me. now i only have isha. when the police came. a officer named jim gordon told me. "bruce wayne is your father" i couldnt believe. i was so happy maybe dad would love me just as much as mom. love, {name} ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dear diary, when i came to the home of my father. i expected me and isha to be welcomed be dad. but he left us with the butler, the butler was very kind though his name is alfred. he is very cool. isha tells me when she looks at dad, she feels no love or happiness that we were here. i dont want to believe her. but isha is always right. i really dont want her to be right this time. i have my own room now. i use to have to share with mom. ------- i miss mommy, this is the first night sleeping with out her. the rooms dark and scary at night. theirs no one to check for monsters, when i asked dad, he gave me a look, and told me to go to bed. alfred offered to check for me but dad said i was a big girl/boy, i need to be brave. isha tells me dad is right but coulda worded it better. im going to go to bed now. love, [name] ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ dear diary, i have brothers!! im so happy. the first one i meet was dick. he was so nice. then theirs jason. he's also really cool. hes not scared to go to bed alone at all. i wish i was like that.... Any way i asked dick and jason if they wanted to play. they said they were busy and they couldnt but they'd play with me next time. i told them that was ok and i could wait. i love my brothers. dads ignoring me though. i asked isha how to get his attention but she doesnt know how. love, [name] ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ diary, jason's gone... gone like mommy. dick and dad their not taken it well, its been a week. but i got a new brother now. his names tim and he's really smart. i ask him to play but he's busy. isha say's he'll probably never have time for me. i told her that was mean. but i fear she is telling the truth. like always. their ignoring me more now. except for alfred. he never ignores me. i think he's more of a parent then bruce. love, [name]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

diary.

i have more siblings now. but they ignore me most of the time except damian. jasons back i got him sneaking through the window in the kitchen. sometimes he disappears and reappears like a ghost but the others dont treat him like one. bruce is happy he's back. i dont think jason likes tim. bruce and him argue about him alot. isha says not to worry and to mostly focus on school and getting good grades. ill listen to isha cause she is always right. always is. love, [name] ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

i hate them. i hate HIM. i hate damian. he hurts me. he says mean things to me all the time, and forces his mean animals to chase after me. to hunt me down. i try to talk to bruce about it but he doesnt listen. i try tell dick but he says to get over it cause damians learning, i try to tell jason but he is never here. i dont even try with tim, he never listens. damiain i want to hit him. but isha tells me not too. she so kind about her even when he broke her. isha my mommy isha. she's broke... Damian broke her. i hit him and he stabbed me. thats fine, he hurt isha, no one hurts isha. bruce. BRUCE. he ground me threatened to take isha away. i begged him not too. alfred, dad stepped in. i still got isha taken away but she's with alfred now. from, [name] ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ im taking isha and leaving this house. i cant stand it her anymore. i told dad, he's sad but he accepts it. bruce i dont think he'll notice im gone. good cause i never want to see his face again. goodbye diary. [name]

[dreamscapeee222]

Hi, i stumbled upon your blog and i hope that you could write headcanons about this idea i have.

Basically, reader is a Zaunite, and during the final episode they volunteer to be an enforcer and protect Piltover. Maybe some angst as well, with their reaction to reader getting hurt? And what happens after the war(reader doesn’t die i need some happy endings🙏🏻)

I wish you a good day and thanks!!

A/n: I like this :3

Warning: Angst, Comfort

Vi, Jinx, Caitlyn, Ekko, Jayce, Viktor, Mel

Masterlist

Vi

When you tell Vi you’re volunteering to fight for Piltover, she’s furious.

“You’re risking your life for a city that’s crushed ours?” she demands, her voice rising with every word. “You’re gonna get yourself killed for what? To prove you’re better than them?”

She storms out, but her words hang heavy in the air. You catch her sneaking glances your way in the days leading up to the battle, a mix of anger and worry written all over her face.

During the fight, Vi fights like hell to keep the chaos at bay. When she sees you take a hit, her heart stops. “No, no, no,” she mutters, shoving her way through the fray to get to you. She hoists you over her shoulder with a strength born of pure panic.

Later, when you’re patched up and recovering, she stays by your bedside. “You’re so damn stupid,” she says, her voice cracking. “But you’re also the bravest person I’ve ever met.” She takes your hand, her thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Next time, we fight for Zaun. Together.”

Jinx

When Jinx hears your decision, it’s like a slap to the face.

“You’re leaving me for them?” she sneers, but her voice wavers. “You’re just like the rest of them, turning your back on Zaun.”

You try to explain, but she’s already gone, leaving a trail of chaos in her wake. During the battle, you catch glimpses of her in the distance, her eyes wild as she fights on her own.

When you’re injured, she’s suddenly there, pulling you out of harm’s way. “You’re such an idiot,” she mutters, her hands shaking as she presses them to your wounds. “Don’t you dare leave me, you hear?”

After the war, she shows up at your door unannounced, carrying a bundle of mismatched supplies. She doesn’t say much, but her presence speaks volumes. “You’re still an idiot,” she grumbles, but the softness in her eyes gives her away.

Caitlyn

Caitlyn admires your courage but can’t hide her fear.

“I’ve lost too many people,” she says quietly, her hand resting lightly on your arm. “Don’t make me lose you too.”

She fights alongside you with fierce determination, always keeping you in her peripheral vision. When you’re hurt, she abandons all composure, sprinting to your side.

“Stay with me,” she pleads, her voice steady despite the tears in her eyes. She personally oversees your medical care, refusing to leave your side until she knows you’re safe.

After the war, she’s there when you wake up, her hand tightly clutching yours. “You scared me,” she admits, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I’m so proud of you. Let’s make sure this was the last fight either of us has to endure.”

Ekko

Ekko’s first reaction is frustration.

“You think Piltover’s gonna change because you fight for them?” he asks, his voice full of hurt. “Zaun needs you here.”

But when the battle comes, he fights by your side, using every trick in his arsenal to keep you safe. When you’re injured, he blames himself, his mind racing with guilt.

“I should’ve been faster,” he mutters, carrying you to safety. “I should’ve been better.”

After the war, he stays by your side, his resolve hardening. “No more wars,” he says firmly. “We’re gonna rebuild Zaun. Together. And this time, we’re gonna do it right.”

Jayce

Jayce struggles with your decision.

“You’re brave,” he says, his voice heavy with emotion. “But you don’t owe Piltover this. You don’t owe me this.”

During the fight, he’s relentless, his hammer a blur of destruction as he clears a path for you. When you’re hurt, he drops everything, his hands trembling as he checks your injuries.

“You’re gonna be okay,” he says, more to himself than to you. “You have to be okay.”

After the war, he’s a constant presence, his guilt and admiration tangled together. “You’re incredible,” he says softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “But next time, let me protect you.”

Viktor

Viktor is calm on the surface, but his words betray his worry.

“You are brave, but bravery often comes with a cost,” he says quietly. “Please, do not let it be your life.”

When the battle rages, he fights with quiet determination, his mind calculating every move. When you’re injured, he doesn’t panic—he acts, stabilizing you with precision and efficiency.

After the war, he spends hours by your bedside, his work temporarily forgotten. “You’ve done enough,” he says softly, his voice laced with emotion. “Let others carry the burden now. You deserve peace.”

Mel

Mel’s reaction is one of quiet anguish.

“You’re risking your life for a city that doesn’t see you,” she says, her voice soft but cutting. “You deserve better.”

During the battle, she watches from a distance, her heart heavy with every report of casualties. When she hears you’ve been hurt, she’s at your side in an instant, her composure cracking for the first time.

“You’ve proven your strength,” she says, her hand gently resting on yours. “But please, no more sacrifices. Let’s build something worth fighting for, together.”

See pinned.

[crystallizsch]

jhgnngggn i’m back to thinking about post-nrc yuusha and jamil--- extremely long ramble below prepare for uh angst??? i guess???

i buried some of these lore in the tags somewhere but anyways-

yuusha and jamil exchanged hair ties when they separated and went off on their own post-nrc as a way to "remember each other by".

they both have different plans for their own futures despite wanting to be "together"— whatever that means. yuusha stayed at nrc working as staff and jamil is out travelling.

at this point though they STILL never officially “dated” but oh they were so so close SO many times to putting a label on it.

“what happened then” <- idk man they’re incredibly stupid. yuusha is still horribly noncommittal and jamil is- jamil. (“…the hell does that mean” <- SHHHH i will not elaborate)

they ended as just "really good friends" (something something on they’re on the spectrum of queerplatonic but they didn’t understand that that was the case) .

━━━━━━✦

at first they did well keeping in touch from a long distance—

yuusha never forgets to check in on jamil, texting/calling whenever possible, she was always the first to initiate.

and jamil still would’ve made the same effort of course, but yuusha always beats him to it. he sort of just expected her check-ins every day.

and he looks forward to that 1-15 notifications that he gets as soon as he wakes up. it does get him going knowing that she was specifically thinking of him at the start of the day.

that wouldn't last though. eventually, the more yuusha met more people and cultivated new relationships, the more she felt herself grow further and further apart from jamil.

yuusha thrives on physical relationships and the majority of the time the only communication and contact between her and jamil is through the phone.

and so the messages from her became less and less frequent as yuusha got more absorbed and interested in her work and other relationships.

don't get it wrong, she still cared about jamil. loved him even, in her own way.

he just became less of a priority.

━━━━━━✦

it was bittersweet to think that jamil finally had the chance to initiate the conversation.

because that meant yuusha had been thinking of him less and he had to remind her himself that— hey he's still there, remember him?— although that's not exactly what he would say. that's a bit too antagonistic and petty. surely, she's just busy. right?

yuusha would respond as if everything was normal. but the usual fondness, the usual warmth, they weren't there. her words through the screen felt dry. forced.

she can use the unnecessary punctuations and emojis she wants but she is not getting past him.

they called. it was nice to hear her voice. but. there's the same feeling of detachment. why are they talking as if this was one of their first times?

yuu, what happened?— is what jamil wanted to ask. but he would also respond nonchalantly. as if everything was normal.

jamil still tried to reach out to her. similar to how she did with him.

but it was to no avail.

their interactions felt too far gone from what they had.

eventually jamil also realized that there was No Point.

if she wasn’t going to make the effort anymore, why should he?

━━━━━━✦

professor yuusha tala walks in to her class which her signature braid and feathered hair tie.

it's lovely having gotten used to working at nrc. her students are surprisingly behaved and she enjoys teasing chatting with her coworkers. surely she isn't missing anything, is she?

and the traveler, jamil viper. he's seen most of the sights, experienced a lot of things. it's like he is slowly fulfilling his childhood dreams.

he ties his hair with the same one he's been using for years. it's a surprise it hasn't snapped yet from how worn out it looks. this really belonged to someone so cheap, huh.

he wonders why he's still using it. he had come across fitting souvenirs that could replace it.

waste of money— jamil convinces himself. besides, this hair tie is fit for every occasion and it's still holding up anyway.

he'll just get a new one when this one finally bites the dust.

if it ever does.

it's really stubborn for a hair tie.

[ihrthoney]

you know what the time is, ak!jason thoughts

me when i don’t write fics so i make hcs

i feel like jason will sometimes lose himself, his sanity will be spread thin with planning to take down batman (he planned for like a year then the moments in the game happen in one night)

even though he tweaked your devices and had your full trust, he couldn’t trust you. not completely.

he had a tracker in your jewelry, when he was gone for days to train he could always pull up where you were. 99% of the time you were at the safe house, you respected him enough to stay home and wait for him. granted he got you whatever you wanted to keep busy. whatever you wanted.

you were so compliant that it started to make him doubt. what if you were just taking advantage of him? what if none of this was real? what if batman sent you and you’re working undercover?

thoughts filled his head, drowning him. he couldn’t think straight, it became hard to look you in the eyes, to let you come close to him.

whenever you asked to go out, he let you but always followed. it tugs at him at not trusting you because he wants to so badly, but he can’t get the doubts out of his mind.

he hates feeling obsessive. he hates the look on your face when he denies your request to go out for the day. your face fell before instantly softening and becoming understanding.

of course he wanted you to go out, but his mind was telling him you’d betray him. that you would try to leave him, he was abandoned too many times he can’t.. he can’t have you leave too.

one night, you woke up and found him watching you sleep. he was in bed next to you, sitting up against the headboard. given his build he looked intimidating in the dark room, but he was your jaybee.

without another word, you sat up against the headboard and locked your pinky with his.

nothing is said for a long time, the distant honks of cars and yelling is carried through the wind that filters through the room,

“i don’t ever want you to leave.”

“i’m not going anywhere, jay.”

“what if i ask you to never leave the safe house.”

“not even with you?”

your soft voice frustrates him, you should be mad, irritated, he’s not being rational!

“you could be living a normal life-“

“stop that, jason.”

“it’s true. you’re like a bird trapped in a cage, you should be out there! not here with me.”

“but i want to be here with you. this is my choice. you aren’t making me do anything, you know that right?”

he doesn’t want to look at you. a part of him wants the rage to consume him, to swallow him whole. jason wants you to run only so he could convince you to come back.

he needs you so badly, he wants you more than anything but his own mind can’t let him.

your free hand moves to slowly turn his head towards you, he lets you break himself out of his thoughts,

“i love you, jace. more than your mind could ever comprehend. anything you need me to do to make you feel safe, i’ll do it.”

“but it jeopardizes your comfortability.”

“who said that? i’m perfectly comfortable here.”

“in this cage?”

“in our safe house. we have traps, cameras, and weapons in case anything happens. i have a device i can click just once and you’ll be here in 5 minutes tops”

“3 minutes.”

his correction makes you laugh, “you bought me a whole fucking pc and made some of your workers play games with me. i can promise you, i don’t feel trapped baby.”

“this isn’t normal though, you should be allowed to go out whenever you want to.”

“and i can, you just have to be with me. it’s not like i want to go anywhere without you anyway.”

“we can’t go to the beach, or pools, or hotels, or-“

“we can if it’s another state.”

“but we can’t leave gotham.”

“then let’s build a pool.”

“you always have something to say, don’t you?”

“i’m always here to keep you in check, i always have been.”

“yeah, a pain in my ass you are.”

he wants you so bad omg. he’s still working through his trauma and he hates to burden you, but just the feeling of your hand in his is enough to pull him out of that dark place.

[rebelliousstories]

Rain Check

Relationship: Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Request: No

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Mentions of a Case involving a Child (No Mentions of Death)

Word Count: 1,672

Main Masterlist: Here

Criminal Minds Masterlist: Here

Summary: When the team gets called out of town the day before Thanksgiving, Aaron has to beg for forgiveness from his wife. But the next week they’re home, he learns that he shouldn’t have felt guilty.

Consider Donating: Here

“We should certainly count our blessings, but we should also make out blessings count.” Neil A. Maxwell

Oh, his wife was going to kill him. This is how he went out. Aaron Hotchner, the formidable Unit Chief of the BAU, was slightly panicking as he was packing up his briefcase to take with him on the plane. His phone was out to call his wife, who was preparing for Thanksgiving dinner the next day, to tell her that they had been called out of town.

He sighed as he ran a hand across his forehead, already feeling the stress headache coming on from having to call her. This was going to be their first Thanksgiving as a married couple, and he had just hoped that they were able to have it. But, of course, that was not what the psycho and sociopaths of the world have in store for him.

There was one, two, three rings before her sweet honeyed voice answered with a cheerful, “Mr. Hotchner, to what do I owe this midday personal call? Not that I’m complaining.”

“Hey, honey. I’m uh- notgonnabehometomrrow,” he mumbled as fast as he could, causing her to have him repeat it.

“I won’t be home tomorrow for Thanksgiving. The team got called out to Nebraska on a child kidnapping case.” Aaron heard her take in a deep breath, and release it in a long sigh on the other end of the line.

“I am so sorry, honey. I know we had all those plans made, and you can still go have dinner with your family. I just… the team.” The longer he tried to justify his actions, the worse he felt about himself.

“Do you know when you’ll be home,” came her soft ask.

“No. These things, especially kidnapping cases, we never can predict how they’ll turn out. I’m hoping we’ll be home soon.”

“Okay. I’ll take Jack with me to dinner tomorrow. We’ll be fine, Aaron. Just focus on catching the bad guy.”

How he wished he could have. It had been five days since they touched down in Kearney, Nebraska. Five days, and they were right back to square one. Firstly, this unsub was crafty. He managed to throw suspension off of whomever it was and get another guy arrested. Every lead was turning out to be a dead end. And Aaron was pissed.

He had talked with his wife a little bit every morning and every night that he had been gone, but it did not hold a candle to the need he felt to be home. As he sat around the conference table they had been granted, Aaron pulled a bit on his tie to get it to loosen. A cup of mediocre cop shop coffee was placed in front of him, and an Italian sat next to him.

“I’m not gong to ask if you’re alright, because I know the answer to that. But I will say, it’s going to be fine.” The wisdom in his voice caused the younger man to stare him from where his chair was leaned back.

“I just want to go home, Dave. I want this case over with, and to go home. We never take this long on kidnappings. There has to be something that we’re missing.” The unit chief lamented, turning his face to the ceiling and shielding his eyes with his hands.

“We’ll catch him, Aaron. We always do. Don’t worry. Whether it’s a blessing or a curse, we haven’t found a body which means the kid is probably still alive.” Dave reassured, watching his friend closely.

“I know you were looking forward to spend the holiday with your lovely wife, but this is the job. Besides, she is more than likely not as upset as you think. Just put your head in the game, so we can get home sooner.” Rossi patted his knee, and left, shutting the door behind him. All that was left in the room was Hotch, the evidence board, and his own racing thoughts.

As much as he tried to remain focused, he could not help but think of his wife. And in doing so, he thought back to Hailey. She had only been able to take so much of him as unit chief before she threw in the towel. Would his current wife do the same if he kept having to cancel major and minor holidays for the sake of the team?

That was something that he never cared to think about, but it was a very real possibility. Hotch grabbed the cup of coffee and turned to the board behind him. The girl that had disappeared was the same age as Jack. She needed him now. Aaron really needed his head in the game. But the longer he stared at the evidence board, the more questions he got.

Had this girl been a newborn, he would have thought that this was a female abduction. Like a lightbulb flicking on, he sprang from his seat, and called the rest of the team in. From that point on, it was only a matter of time.

Coming home after six days away was like a breath of fresh air. It was late, almost midnight, when Hotch dragged his tired bones to the front door of his apartment. When he got inside, the sight made him chuckle as he disarmed his security system.

His wife was asleep on the couch with a bunch of laundry spread out around her. It honestly looked like a little nest that she had made for herself. Setting down his briefcase, and carefully stepping over the piles, his hand made contact with her arm and gently shook her awake.

“Aar, you’re home,” she mumbled sleepily.

“Yeah, I am. Let’s get you to bed, Mrs. Hotchner.” Aaron picked his wife up with little difficulty, before turning and making their way to bed. He placed her underneath their sheets, kissed her head, and went to take a shower.

His memory never recorded himself falling asleep, but he knew he did. Purely, for the simple fact that he awoke the next morning in his bed, with his wife already out of it. However, after checking the time on the clock, Aaron rushed to get ready to go into work. He took the fastest shower, put his suit on in record time, and was rushing to lace up his shoes.

“Good morning, dear. Why are you in such a hurry?”

Aaron paused in between doing the laces from tying his left shoe to look up to where his wife was standing in the kitchen. His mug was sitting on the table with some steaming coffee in it. A plate was in front of it filled with eggs, sausage, and toast.

“Um…” he trailed off, “going to work? It’s Tuesday.”

“Dave got you and the team the day off. Go change into something more comfortable, sweetie.” She giggled as she waved him off, back to the bedroom. As he did, he saw the counters filled with different preparations of side dishes. It confused him, but he was just thankful for the day off.

Coming back, Hotch was grateful that he could enjoy his day with his wife. He took his plate and pressed a kiss to her cheek while she went to sit with her own plate beside him. While they ate, she asked about the case they had just wrapped. Normally, this was not something that he liked bringing up, however, it felt nice to get it off of his chest.

Occasionally, when cases are this rough and long, it takes longer for him to decompress after the fact. Figuring out that someone was kidnapping a young girl to protect his wife that could not grapple with the fact that their daughter was dead; it was not something that you could easily comprehend. But, being able to talk to his wife and not a bureau mandated therapist was defiantly preferable.

Being able to go pick his son up from school was a welcomed change. However, his wife made sure to tell the Hotchner boys the second they got home to go get changed. He did not know why. All he knew was that the two adults, and Jack, were grabbing warmed dishes and heading out.

“Where are we going,” came his ask.

“You’ll see,” she replied.

The further they derived, the more he began to recognize the route they were on. Rossi’s mansion was quickly coming into view as they made the final turn into the driveway. Grabbing the dishes, the Hotchner’s went to the front door, and were greeted by their favorite Italian.

“Señora Hotchner, how I have missed you beautiful.” Dave pulled her in and took the dish from her hands with a kiss to each cheek.

“And I have missed you, Mr. Rossi.” Jack and Aaron followed after them. They were also greeted by Dave, and they placed their other dishes on the table outside, where a bunch of other food was already.

However, there was a sight that he never expected. The entire team was outside in the backyard. It was a massive party that he had no idea was going on. Garcia was with Derek and Emily already drinking wine. Will sat with Spencer who was shouting Henry magic tricks in the mean time.

Turning back to look at his wife who smirking an impish smile, he was confused, and knew it showed through on his face.

“I know you were upset about missing Thanksgiving last week. So I talked with Dave about maybe doing a redo.” Before he could stop himself, Aaron swooped down and kissed his wife passionately.

“Well, that is definitely one way to say thank you.” She said with a dazed smile.

“Come on, love birds. Let’s get this started.” Dave guided them to their seats, while Aaron was just thinking how thankful he was to have a wife like he did.

Catherine Pulsifier said, “Give thanks not just on Thanksgiving Day, but every day of your life.”

[fandomnerd9602]

Can you please make Wanda (Earth 838 but in MCU meaning Vision and Ultron were created and Pietro did died) x Y/N Thanksgiving where Y/N congrats Wanda for reminding him how to be human (after Death Of Gwen Stacey Y/N gone Punisher dark) and Y/N presenting Wanda with his gift which is alive Pietro (Aaron Taylor Johnson) ???

Y/N is godson of Mephisto (one from Ghost Rider movie (first one))

The thanksgiving dinner was set for you and the Maximoff clan. You checked your watch, your special gift was bound to arrive on time.

Wanda opened your heart and helped you heal. You wanted to give her a little token of your appreciation.

You weren’t a villain when you met her per se. More a neutral third party, unlike your family.

You and Wanda were hurting souls who found each other. You helped one another heal and now you were unabashedly in love with one another.

The Illuminati, ever the sour sports, did not approve. But you and her were retired so they had no say.

And so that brings you to this Thanksgiving evening.

You made a deal with an old friend of yours and now a gift that would make Wanda’s heart soar was arriving soon.

“Detka” she called out to you “Dinner’s almost ready”

“Not yet, baby!” You answered back. “We’re waiting on one last guest”

“Guest, detka? I thought it was just you and I”

The doorbell rings. You give her a gentle smile before going to answer it. That deal you made was with Mistress Death herself.

Wanda walked in and froze. Standing in the doorway, platinum blonde hair and not looking a day older than when she last saw him was her brother, the Quicksilver, or as she knew him…

“P-Pietro?” She grasped at her chest, her heart fluttering.

Pietro smiled at her, holding up a can of cranberry sauce. “Sorry I’m late, sestra. I had to fight old lady for last can”

She took his face in her hands, tears beginning to stream. “Is this real?”

“It is,” you answered, “I made a deal with an old friend of mine. This isn’t for 24 hours or anything. This is permanent.”

“You got a special detka, you that?” Pietro said with a little smirk.

“Oh detka” Wanda turns to you with a little smile on her face, “my thanksgiving surprise looks lame by comparison”

She pulls out a small cylindrical present. You unwrap it to find a positive pregnancy test.

“What? You’re—?!” You tried to formulate what to say next. Wanda only giggles and nods her head.

The purest form of joy overtakes you as you pick her up and spin her around.

Pietro smiles as he observes you two, secretly happy he was going to be able to see his two nephews.

“This is great and all but I have not eaten for like…ten years. I am starving” Pietro says, slapping you on the back.

Yes yours and Wanda’s thanksgiving dinner went off without a hitch. And subsequent thanksgivings saw your house grow bigger and more full of love.

[iz-star]

About Zayne's nightmares...

The most unrealistic thing about Zayne is that he's a functional working adult that seemingly has put his life together at 27 not because he's young or a prodigy but because he's said to have nightmares since he was 12?? Like... I feel like this theme might be a bit overlooked but just think about it deeply, having constant nightmares fucks your mind like really REALLY bad, I can genuinely say this by experience and also as someone who has had trouble to have a healthy sleeping schedule since I was at highschool (like, for example, right now, I should be sleeping instead of writing this...).

There was a time I would have nightmares almost everytime I went to sleep during a really hard time in my life. Of course, the topic about those nightmares was almost always the same, not like the nightmares repeated themselves but they always revolved about the same things that I was actually working in therapy at the moment. Back then I was jobless and medicated most part of the time, I was pretty dysfunctional.

I suppose that's why when I listened to "Fragmented Dreams" for the first time it was the time I said "Yeah, this is my man". I love how he's always nagging MC about sleeping early because I know by experience that not sleeping properly can mess up with your mind pretty bad, and probably he knows it too. It truly is a showcase of love how he worries about her sleep like that and it also showcases how strong minded he is for enduring too much stress and remind kind constantly.

I love how healthy he is. I like to think that he's overcome all the stressful stuff he's gone thru bc of his discipline and healthy life style, but realistically it would take him some more to deal with all of that.

Yes, all of the guys have been through some very rough stuff and they all need therapy, but my point with Zayne comes with the fact that not having a good sleeping schedule and on top of that having constant nightmares can mess up with your perception of reality and induce you a bad depression or other mental health issues. Everytime I remember Zayne's main story branch when they're trapped in Zayne's dream and MC leaves him alone and he starts listening to Willian, Georgie and his Mom so he has to remind himself "It's not real, it's not real" I deeply feel that and I just want to hug him so bad :(

I think I'd like to see a card where they explore the consecuences of their past in their psyche more deeply. I can't help remembering this post which was one of the first posts you unlock with Zayne:

It was there when I just knew that even if he looked quiet, he had a lot to say but didn't know how to express.

Another thing I'd like to highlight about this is that actually I love the emotional maturity that Zayne displays about dealing with such issues like nightmares, traumatic experiences and literally being exposed to see people dying 24/7 while being someone that feels a lot yet says little. He's dealt with this the best way he can, no wonder why he came to be quite serious and inexpressive or sarcastic. Not allowing himself to express other emotions than seriousness or sarcasm was like keeping himself in check so he wouldn't spill everything he feels and considering how stressing is his job already, it just makes sense, but that didn't mean Zayne didn't feel because he feels too much and too deeply and worries sick about ppl and especially about MC.

Of course, bottling up his emotions wasn't the best way to deal with them but he never used any unhealthy coping mechanism neither, like alcohol, for example (My teetotaler King ❤️) etc. Yeah, his workaholism isn't exactly healthy but not something toxic to his mind and relationships, and I've always had a feeling that he's a big foodie and addicted to sweets to give himself that boost of serotonine he needs so bad.

That's why he compares MC with sweets, being her his favorite dessert, bc she's brought all that serotonine to his life naturally and has helped him let go little by little. When he opened to her about losing Dulcie, I had a feeling that Zayne always wanted someone to listen to him but he didn't know how to ask for it and ppl around him was too afraid to even dare to suggest it. I think even in one of his anecdotes, it is said that sometimes Dr Noah wanted to tell him something but at the end ended up saying nothing.

The fact that Zayne bottled up his emotions didn't mean that he wouldn't willingly share them, he wanted to but wasn't used to it. With MC, he's slowy started to let it go and enjoy life more, allowing himself to be sad in front of her, to express his fears (about losing her) or to express his childish tantrums and indulge in his softest side. That's why also she's not only his favorite dessert but also his best painkiller ❤️

And just to finish, I've always thought this quote by Kafka fits him so well:

"Remember, you should sleep more than other people, for I sleep less than most. And I can’t think of a better place to store my unused share of universal sleep than in your beloved eyes."

[revelboo]

Could we perchance get more Ironhide?

I love your writing btw, and can’t help myself from checking your blog every so often(every single day) for updates:) I live for this kinda stuff

Thank you!

Hold Me Down Pt 2

Ironhide x Reader

• Engine roaring, he accelerates and feels your head smack back against the headrest, getting flattened back into the driver’s seat. And there goes your calm, screaming your head off as he takes a turn too sharply. “I’d put your seatbelt on, darlin.’” He says, struggling not to crack up as you claw for it and fumble until you get it clicked in. Having a complete mental breakdown inside him.

• Feeling your heart racing, you dig your fingers into your thighs, afraid to touch the wheel as it freely spins and turns. This has to be one of those freaky self driving cars. Or it’s possessed by a demon just to punish you for your sins. As it’s deep laughter rumbles around you, you’re betting on the latter. “Please, I don’t want to die.” You moan as you get slung around when it turns again.

• Regretting your life choices, yet? Because this is the most fun he’s had in a long while. Listening to your caterwauling and begging, like music. Up until the blue lights flicker behind him with the angry woop of a siren. “Frag me,” he snarls, spotting the human cop car speeding after him. Because nope. He’s not getting impounded today as much as his little thief deserves to get thrown in jail for a timeout.

• Head craning to see the cop on demon van’s bumper, you almost start bawling as it accelerates again to leave the cop in the dust. And you’re thankful for the seatbelt as you get knocked around when he swerves down a side road. Risking whiplash as the tires scream around a curve and your head bangs against the side window.

• Fragging cop. Fragging human in his driver’s seat, too as you slump forward and he has to cinch down the seatbelt to keep your limp form off the wheel. Because now he’s well and truly fragged himself. He’d planned on just scaring you straight and dumping you on a side street babbling about possessed vans and too scared to try anything like that again. Thanks to that cop, everything’s gone sideways. And guilt won’t let him just dump you on the side of the road out here in the desert sun. Running through every swear he knows until he’s repeating himself, he gives up. Starts heading back to the Ark, hating himself and you, because he just saddled himself with a little thief without meaning to.

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