#glad to get the leg wobble in there though

[boltlightning]

PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN: DEAD MAN'S CHEST (2006): rehearsals v. final film ➢ mastering the blade: orlando bloom

[fingertipsmp3]

Whyyyyyy is my quad lag back

[miniimight]

❝ CAN YOU STOP PUTTING EVERYTHING ON THE TOP SHELVES?! ❞ you finally talk to him after a little argument ( height difference )

with deku, bakugou, rody

IZUKU

he tried to look nonchalant as he responded with a questioning hum. yeah, he was putting stuff on the top shelves. "hmm, what?"

you crossed your arms and glared at him. "you heard me."

he turned to you with the picture of innocence plastered on his face. "i don't know what you mean, i just put things where i put them. it just happens that they're high up."

you raised an accusatory eyebrow.

"for you, anyway." he mumbled, turning back to make his sandwich.

"exactly!" you exclaimed. "for me! you know i can't reach things up there and you do it on purpose!" you found your face was hot as you explained it.

you knew exactly why—you both had gotten into a little fight and you weren't talking to him for a while. this was the first time you had spoken since the argument, and even though you were yelling at him, your voice was music to his ears.

a small smile spread on his face despite his efforts to feign innocence. "on purpose?"

"yes!"

he paused, walking towards you. his disregard for space led to you being crammed against the counter behind you. he leaned over you and asked, "what it is that you need, love?"

your cheeks heated and you cast your gaze to the floor. "the box up there..." you murmured. he stretched to reach it and you flattened your palms against his chest. "izuku! you're squishing me—!"

he chuckled and brought the box down to the counter before kissing your forehead. "i'm glad we're talking again."

BAKUGO

"what was that?" he asked you, a knowing smirk on his face.

you huffed, already on top the counter trying (and failing) to reach the stupid box you needed. "i said stop putting shit on the top shelves. you know i can't reach it."

he shrugged, turning his attention back to his phone. "i dunno what you're talkin' about, princess."

you glared and pointed to the box. "you don't even use it?!"

"aw, don't jump the gun on me now, babe. you know i like to switch things up a lil' bit." he grinned, taking so much joy in your visible frustration. he was just happy you were speaking with him again.

you rolled your eyes, electing to ignore him as you tried your best not to fall off the surface or pull the cabinet down with you.

bakugo eyed you carefully as he threw away the thought of you begging for his help, reluctantly decided your immediate safety was more important. "'kay, that's enough." he walked over, his hands on your hips steadying your wobbly movement. "you'll hurt yourself, y/n. come down."

"i want that stupid box..." you pouted.

he rolled his eyes, his arms now circling around you as he lifted you off the counter. you gasped and curled your legs towards your body, clutching his wrists.

"oh, relax, you know i won't drop ya." he grumbled and set you down next to him. he easily plucked the box from its high perch, handing it to you.

"happy now?" he pinched your cheek. "stubborn brat. could've broken a bone or somethin'."

RODY

"what, having trouble sweetheart?" he snickered.

your face heated and you huffed. "rody... just get it for me, please."

"hmmm..." he pretended he was thinking hard. "i think... no."

you looked at him incredulously. "no? you put it up there!"

"i so did not." he turned up his nose, though pino was smiling and nodding her head.

you narrowed your eyes at him. "you're sabotaging me into breaking your silent treatment."

"whaaaat?" he exaggerated confusion. he held his head and pointed at himself dumbly. "me?"

"you're impossible." you rolled your eyes, moving to climb onto the counter.

"in any case, my plan worked wonderfully," his signature smirk graced his lips as he laughed softly, leaning against the wall to survey your distress.

your fingers just about brushed the side of the box before pino crashed into it, sending it further back and completely out of your reach. you swiveled to glare at the little pink bird. "pino!"

she bashfully twirled in the air before happily fluttering away.

rody's laughter filled your ears and you groaned, resting your head against the shelf. you heard shuffling—when you looked up, rody and his stupid smug smirk was beside you, easily bringing the box down.

"now we both look stupid, yeah?" he pressed a fat kiss on your cheek and softened when you laughed brightly.

© miniimight ! thanks for reading <3

[emmyrosee]

 Hiiii, I have a request. Imagine a highschool AU where reader has a massive crush on Sukuna but she thinks he has a thing with Uraume, but he actually likes her. Ok ok, so hear me out. Reader is childhood friends with Yuuji and Sukuna and she notices how Sukuna and Uraume have been hanging out a lot. So she asks Yuuji if Sukuna is going to prom and he says yes, and that he is probably going with Uraume. So reader is sad and doesn't want to go to prom anymore even after already buy her dress. Buttt, the day before prom, Sukuna and Reader end up talking and she mentions how he and Uraume are going together and he is confused.  Then they both confess and end up going together. Pleaseeeeee make this as angsty as possible, I love me some good angst😫

THIS IS SO CUTEEEE-

Bro this is so long yaLL GET A SNACK- I never had a senior prom this is my venting PFFFFF-

I do want to make a disclaimer! To make this fic work I had to go and use an American based school system, where traditionally seniors are 18, can drive, and eat in cafeterias. For those about to comment my inaccuracies, thank you!

—-

Sukuna has been a little more than preoccupied lately.

He, who once would spend every afternoon driving you and yuuji home, who would blast your favorite music and take you to McDonald’s for a soda, has been more than busy with someone new.

You don’t know where she came from, hell you’ve known the two of them for years, yet this is the first you’ve ever really heard of the being known as Uraume.

“They’ve actually been friends for years,” yuuji had told you. “I’m surprised you never really met her- though she’s pretty shy. Only close with sukuna, honestly.”

Yeah. Real close.

Within just a few weeks, Uraume has snagged your place as Sukuna’s number one. No longer does he stand outside your class to carry your books to the next. Your front seat privileges go to her. He plays her favorite songs. He drops you off at home before taking her to god knows where to do god knows what. And yuuji is blind to this change, merely glad his best friend is sitting in the back seat with him, all the while it tears you up on the inside.

And it isn’t until you catch a beefy hand shift to hold Uraume’s that you realize it’s over. Your heart shatters, your lip wobbles, and you turn your body to face away from the disgusting sight.

“You okay?” Yuuji asks, gently nudging you with the tips of his fingers, and when you look up to peek at Sukuna’s frame once again, you catch his eyes looking at you in the rear view. You sigh and turn your gaze away.

“What’s wrong, brat?” He asks, and you could throw up when Uraume turns in her seat to look at you too.

She looks genuinely concerned, and you could punch her for it.

“Just… take me home, Sukuna,” you murmur.

“But we’re getting pizza!” Yuuji whines. “I don’t want you to miss out!”

You smile and gently pat his leg, “don’t worry about me, yuuji. I’m just getting car sick.”

Car sick enough you don’t car pool with him anymore.

You’re back to taking the bus, curled on your seat to stay out of other people’s way, leaving home about 45 minutes earlier than you would’ve with Sukuna. It makes you skip breakfast and washing your face, barely giving you enough time to get into clean clothes and head off onto the day.

But it’s better than seeing them interact, a crush and potential romance brewing right in your eyesight. You never told him how you were getting to school, either, not in the mood for his attempts to change your mind or force you otherwise.

Until-

“You’ve been taking the fucking bus?”

There’s a loud bark that rings through the halls of school, people moving out of the way for the one and only sukuna to come barreling down it, some looking in worry, others with their eyes rolling in their skull.

You sigh and close your locker, leaning against it, “did yuuji finally tell you?”

“No, and I’m going to beat the shit out of him for not telling me,” he snarls, leaning in close. “Do you know how fucking dangerous the bus can be?”

You roll your eyes, “people take the bus every day, Sukuna.”

“Yeah. Not you. Not anymore. I drive you. You know that.”

“Not anymore,” you grumble. He cocks a brow in challenge and you roll your eyes, “I have no interest in being in a car with you.”

“Who fucking shit in your oatmeal this morning?” He snaps. “You’ve had a punk ass attitude for the past two weeks, what the fuck happened?”

“Maybe im just not into being babied anymore?” You lie. He furrows his brows and licks his lips as the bell rings.

“This isn’t over. We’re not done.”

“I am!” You sing.

You’ve never had a day at school drag like today has.

Classes have never felt longer, teachers have never talked slower, and the clock has never ticked drowsier. It physically causes your head to pound and your stomach to become nauseous, and agony courses though your veins as the lunch bell rings.

It’s only lunch.

You manage to shuffle your way out to the cafeteria to meet your friends, two who cheer happily at your arrival and one who offers you a nod of acknowledgment. You plop down next to Fushiguro and rub your temples.

“What’s wrong?” Yuuji asks, and you flash him a small smile.

“I just don’t feel well.”

“You haven’t felt well in days,” he points out, “I hope you’ll be alright for tomorrow night!”

Tomorrow night.

Prom is tomorrow night.

You scrub your face with your hands, “I’ll feel better once I eat, yuuji. Don’t worry,” you say quietly.

The drumming of Nobara’s nails on the table don’t help the growing migraine in your skull, and you try your best to drown out the noise of so many people and so many thoughts and so many feelings about your argument with sukuna that you feel like you could throw up straight on this table.

Kugisaki grimaces, “I told your brother to be here today to talk about prom,” she says, poking her juice open with a straw. “He’s late.”

“He’s not late,” yuuji says, pointing a finger at a table just a few down. “He’s over there, with Uraume.”

The minute every vowel passes Yuuji’s lips, a shiver trails down your spine, filling your entire being with heaviness and hatred. You don’t dare look over your shoulder, instead you grab a grape from Fushiguro’s lunch to munch on. He nudges the small container closer, and you take another green grape from him.

“Besides,” Yuuji continues, taking a bite of his lunch, “I’m 98% sure Sukuna’s going with her. Something about her friend group and car pooling, I figured we could catch a ride with someone else.”

Your heart stops completely.

The man you’d assumed you were going with, the man you’d been in love with for years, is taking someone else, the day before prom.

“He WHAT!” Kugisaki snaps, and next to you, Fushiguro laces his pinky finger with yours, squeezing softly to keep you grounded. “Oh! The fucking nerve! I knew he was a piece of shit, but THIS?! Oh, Itadori, why couldn’t you have your license!”

“Hey! Why don’t you!”

“Kugisaki,” Fushiguro says softly. “Him being a scumbag is nothing new. But,” you feel blue eyes focus on the side of your head. “Let’s be a little more gentle about this, okay?”

From behind you, there’s a set of laughter that eases its way over the cafeteria, and you wish it was literally anyone else’s, anyone’s other than Uraume’s, and you hate how light and airy it sounds.

How pretty.

“I know for a fact Sukuna’s not that funny,” Kugisaki grumbles, but all you do is pick at your food and silently pretend to agree with your friend.

Sukuna is funny. Sukuna is so funny it hurts, it brings tears to your eyes and your sides and stomach to hurt, and even though you share him everyday, it hurts now to share him with her.

“Man, she’s laughing real hard,” Yuuji says, taking a sip of his water, his head turned to watch his brother interact with his friend. “Wonder what he said.”

“Yuuji,” Megumi warns.

Yuuji chuckles to himself, “it’s almost like they’re feeding off of each other, it’s kinda sweet.”

“Yuuji.”

“-and I mean, Sukuna’s usually not so open and friendly, let alone cracking jokes. It’s cute-“

“ITADORI!”

Megumi snaps hard enough at his friend to make him shut up, and when yuuji finally turns back to face you, your bottom lip wobbles and you play more with your food. Tears pour down your face, as Kugisaki reaches over to rest a hand on yours, sympathy in her gaze. “Yeah,” you sniffle. “It’s cute.” The hand not being cradled by Kugisaki comes up to wipe your tears, and before you know it, your legs stand up and carry you straight to the bathroom, locking yourself in a stall where you’re able to finally let it go. You cradle yourself in comfort, eyes screwed shut as you sob every fiber of your soul out.

Kugisaki calls your name once, twice, then she sighs, “come on. Let’s talk this out, okay?”

“I’m not going to prom,” you confess. “Not if he’s going with her.”

“You don’t know if he is, though,” she argues, leaning against your stall door. “And if he is, and he fumbles the best thing that ever happened to him, he doesn’t deserve your tears.”

There’s another person that enters the bathroom, and you hear Kugisaki scoff. “You’re like, a thousand percent not supposed to be in here.”

“Bite me,” the voice snaps, and it doesn’t take long to decode it as Sukuna’s. Your hand claps over your mouth to silence your tears, not wanting him to hear you. “I thought she was crying, I wanted to check on her.”

“She’s fine. Shoo.”

“Kugisaki-“

“Don’t talk to me like we’re friends,” she snaps, and you close your swollen eyes as she defends your honor. “Because we’re not. Don’t act like you care at all about me or her, or her peace or her business. So fucking beat it, before I snitch you out to the principal, then no one’s fucking happy.”

You hear sukuna exhale in annoyance, “just… text me, okay?” He says, and you know he’s talking to you.

“She’ll think about it,” Kugisaki growls. Once the big footprints are out of earshot, you slowly ease your way out of the stall and straight into Kugisaki’s arms, “I know honey, I know,” she soothes, hugging you tight. “You deserve so much better, babydoll. Fuck him.”

“He led me on for months,” you wail. “And he tossed me to the side like a fucking piece of trash. For her.”

“And that’s why you should go to prom,” she argues, pulling back to look at you, eyes soft in understanding. “You don’t need him to have fun- you’ve got friends who are dying to go with you. And you want to make him real jealous?” She asks, and you quirk your brow in intrigue.

She smirks, “go with Fushiguro.”

You sniffle and shake your head, “I cant do that to Fushiguro. Im not going to use him as a pawn to make Sukuna want me again. It’s not fair.”

Kugisaki nods and clicks her tongue, “why don’t you get a note from the nurse and go home for the day?” She encourages, and you ponder the idea in your head.

Maybe it wouldn’t be such a terrible idea… to go home and process the day, figure out what to do about prom, maybe even return the dress for your money back. You sigh shakily and nod your head before the bathroom door bursts open again, emerging a yuuji whose hands are clasped over his eyes. “Just wanted to bring you your backpack!”

You snort and wipe your nose, “thank you, Yuuji.”

“You’re welcome!” He shifts his fingers to peek at you, lifting the middle one to make eye contact, “so… sorry we didn’t get to talk about prom.”

“It’s okay,” you sigh, ushering them both out of the bathroom. “I’m… I’m probably not going anyways.”

“WHAT!” He whines, his hands coming down to his sides in a saddened pout. “But! It’s senior prom! We have to go!”

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “I haven’t felt up for it since we made the plan to go. Maybe I’m just not supposed to.” When Fushiguro appears from the men’s bathroom and approaches the group, you flash him a sweet smile, “but I want you guys to still go!”

“Well if you’re not going, I’m not going!” Yuuji proclaims.

Fushiguro shakes his head, “if this is about prom, I won’t go either. We can chill at our houses instead-“

“EVERYONE IS GOING TO PROM!” Kugisaki barks, causing more than a few heads to turn in the hall. Then, she sighs, “we’re all old now. This is it. Our last chance of good memories from this shit fuck of a school. Everyone is going. Period.”

“But-“

“We’ll talk it out later,” you say quickly, noticing the duo of Sukuna and Uraume heading to the vending machines together. “I’m going home. Someone take notes for me.”

“Will do,” Fushiguro calls out for you. You feel three pairs of eyes boring into the back of your skull, but you couldn’t care less.

Not when you’re left to pick up the pieces of your broken heart.

Getting out of school was easy enough. Working up an excuse that you’re dizzy and need to be rushed home. It’s getting home that sucked.

Before, Sukuna was your ride home when you were sick, cutting classes to get you back to your home so you could take care of yourself and get plenty of rest. Now, you stand at a public bus stop, earbuds in your ears, and you wait. You’ve done this route plenty of times by now, courtesy of Sukuna’s front seat being taken by her.

The ride is quiet enough, your head resting against the cool glass of the window as your phone buzzes violently.

sukuna 💪🏻 Where the fuck did you go?

No seriously wtf

This shit with Fushiguro taking notes for you? The fucks up with that?

Why’d you even leave?

You think you can ignore me?

This isn’t over. Once this bell rings?

I’m hunting you down.

You ignore his threats and let the bus carry you home, your exhausted legs finishing the trip up and into the familiar confines of your house. You’ve got at least two hours before sukuna makes good on his word, and you decide to take that time to take care of yourself- something your heart has been too tired to do since Uraume came into your life uninvited.

After a hot shower, some skin care and topped with some pretty perfume, you make your way to the living room, stopping briefly for a snack from the kitchen.

You put on a movie, but your phone won’t stop buzzing. It’s Sukuna, it’s always going to be Sukuna, and you merely turn it on Do Not Disturb.

If ignoring his texts wouldn’t get him pissed, that certainly would.

But you don’t care. Not anymore.

There’s a ferocious knocking on the door that snaps you out of your zone, and it doesn’t take you long to render the intense energy as Sukuna’s. You pause your movie and shrug your blanket off, making your way to the front door.

Your hands tingle and your heart pounds at the idea of confrontation, but you figure you have nothing to lose as you open the door, revealing an annoyed Sukuna, foot tapping impatiently.

“You think you can hide from me?” he snaps, and you roll your eyes and try to close the door. Sukuna merely jams his foot in the frame to stop you. “Stop fucking around with me, and talk to me. And what’s this bullshit of Yuuji telling me you’re not going to prom?”

“I have nothing to say to you,” you say blankly, but all that does is aggravate him more, and he uses a big hand to force the door open more. The act would be attractive to you, had your heart not been torn into pieces by him. “Don’t break my door.”

“Don’t ignore my goddamned texts!” He barks. You scoff and step back inside your house, where he swiftly follows you. “You’re acting like a fucking child.”

“IM ACTING LIKE A CHILD?” You screech, loud enough where even Sukuna’s eyes widen. “Me? After this entire week where you’ve picked your new best friend to cling to, IM THE CHILD?”

“Yes!” He snaps. “What, I can’t have other friends?”

“You seemed pretty content with the one,” you chuckle. “Certainly didn’t need me to keep you entertained.”

“It’s not my fault that Uraume’s been hanging out with me more,” he says, crossing his big arms. “You just can’t handle sharing me once in a while? Are you that insecure?”

This, has you wincing back, his words making you nauseous and tears bite at your waterline, stinging painfully as you finally blink a line down. He takes a deep inhale and cards a massive hand through his hair, “I didn’t mean that-“

“Fuck. You.”

“Look-“

“No, you look, Sukuna,” you growl, hands coming up to shove him hard. “You don’t get to gaslight me into thinking I’m being dramatic, after you’ve completely thrown me to the side and neglected me for the week. You don’t get to make me feel like the bad guy after you led me on for months on end, only to chase after another girl. You don’t get to break my heart, and demand me to piece it back together, only to try and guilt me for protecting my peace! FUCK! YOU!”

“Led you on for what?” He asks, confusion replacing annoyance, but aggregation still in his tone. “The fuck are you spewing?” You reach up to shove him again; this time, he grips your shoulders to make you steady, “are you out of your fucking mind? There is no other girl!”

“Oh, yeah,” you scoff, your voice tight with tears. “You just hold every broad’s hand in front of me. You just rest your hand onto every girl’s thigh, clearly. My bad, Sukuna.”

“I never held her hand, I moved her hand from my thigh, you weren’t fucking paying attention!”

“Yeah? What about not walking me to class anymore? Not carrying my books for me? Not sitting next to me anymore, instead going to be with her?”

His brows furrow, and there’s nothing you’d like more than to smack the expression clean off of his face. “Doll, Uraume is a friend. That’s it!”

“Yeah? Then what does that make us?”

“Everything!” He yells, the plates rattling and doors creaking from the force. The tears in your eyes still as you stare up at him, whimpering and shaking in his grip.

“What…?”

He sighs in exhaustion, “are you so dense you don’t notice just how obsessed with you I am? The minute someone else comes into my life, you’re blind to that?”

“Sukuna-“

“I’ve fought Fushiguro over you,” he continues. “I’ve argued with teachers for being late to walk you to your class. I’ve gotten pulled over speeding to your house to be with you. I’ve fucking been here, wanting you, but I was waiting for you to be ready.”

“Well, you’ve sure had a hell of a time proving it,” you snip, and he grits his teeth to ground himself. “Talking to another girl, taking her to prom-“

“I’m not taking her to prom, I’m taking you!”

“Then why have you been ignoring me!”

Your words are silenced as he grabs you by the chin and pulls you in for a kiss, the broken bits of your soul and heart snapping back together. Your brain stops and your stomach swirls, but your arms instinctively wrap around his neck, keeping him close. He tastes like orange soda and feels comforting like a freshly washed blanket, his band tee getting fisted in your hand as your other one plays with the hair of his buzz cut. He shivers, his arms hug around your waist, panting into your mouth before hesitantly pulling back.

He leans down to your ear, “listen carefully. I’m not taking Uraume. I’m taking you. Uraume is a friend. That’s it. Once I tell her we’re together, she’ll back off, and we’re going to be fine. I’ve been ‘ignoring you’ because I figured you wanted space, but I couldn’t deal with it anymore. Got it?” You sniffle and burrow your face in his chest, letting his big arms wrap around you and keep you safe. He presses another kiss to the crown of your head, and you feel your mind go fuzzy at the moment he cradles you close.

“Missed my annoying brat of a crush. Driving to school was so fucking boring,” he says, and you scoff against him and wipe your nose on his shirt. “Ugh. Ew.”

“You’re supposed to find me pretty no matter what,” you sniffle. “Even if I use you as a tissue.”

“Maybe, just don’t use me as a tissue?” He snickers, and when you loosen and laugh yourself, he gently pulls back to look at you.

“C’mon. Show me your dress. Need to know what color tie I’m getting.”

“You want to match with me?” You whimper.

He smirks, “Kugisaki already hates me. You think she’s going to let us not matching slide?”

“You’re so right.”

[luveline]

Hotch request w Jack and new baby!!! Coming back from the hospital and reader is in bed with new baby and Jack while Aaron is in another part of the house (maybe making food in the kitchen) and reader starts crying because she’s in pain and jack is all concerned and sweet and goes to get Aaron??

thank you for requesting, sorry I messed up where everyone was! fem, 1.3k

“He’s gonna stab him!” 

You blink from the spot you’d been staring at, pain momentarily forgotten. “What! Where’d you learn that word?” you ask in surprise. 

Jack leans back against his big velvet pillow, blue with silver stars, looking as though he’s in the lap of luxury. “At school.” 

The cartoon mouse on the TV raises his fencing sword high in the air. 

“He’s not stabbing anyone, they’re fencing,” you say, reaching for his hand to hold. “Stabbing… that’s pretty scary. How did that make you feel?” 

“Well, I’m not gonna stab anyone,” Jack says. 

He’s confused that you’re making a fuss, just old enough to realise you’re poking around for his feelings. You worry lately that you aren’t paying him enough attention because of his new brother, and the word stab isn’t exactly age appropriate. 

But maybe that’s what the boys his age are talking about? You frown more, your hand slipping along his arm to curl behind him. You pull him toward you. “Come on, handsome. Cuddle me.” 

You’re too sore to move, so Jack has to come to you. He crawls across the couch until his arms can wrap around you and his cheek can rest against your chest. Stab is an apt word for the feeling in your stomach. Jack’s arm squeezes at you and the pain worsens, so you move it up your front and curl your arm around him. 

“Is it a bad word?” he asks. 

“No, it’s just like hit or slap, I guess. And I know you’re not gonna do any of that to anyone. You’re too gentle.” 

“Gentle is a good word.” 

“Yeah.” You kiss his forehead, a moment of self indulgence. You love your stepson, and he is oh so kissable. “Oh no, look at the mouse.” 

Charlie sleeps in his swing seat, the soft whirring of its constant motion almost as comforting as the sound of his soft breaths. You watch him for a while, Jack climbing up at your side to press his face to your neck, leg on your thigh, slowly pressing against the tenderness that is your abdomen. “Uh, Jack,” you breathe, trying to pick him up, “you’re gonna have to climb off of me, my tummy hurts too much.” 

“Sorry,” he says quickly, slipping off of you and onto the couch cushion. His foot kicks out as he rights himself, a jamming of his toes against the pain like a spike. 

You take a deep breath. Ouch. 

“It’s okay,” you say, groaning softly as the pain thrums, hand on your stomach as though your touch can make it stop, “just a tummy ache. I– I’m okay.” 

“You got little tears?” he says, his voice going wobbly. You try to blink away tears and end up with a straggler curving down the slope of your cheek. “I’ll go get dad!” 

“Jack, I’m okay,” you say. 

Too late. Jack scrambles from the couch and away from you, up the stairs to find his father. You’re not sure what Aaron’s up to, he’d only said, “I’ll be right back,” twenty minutes ago. You’d guessed laundry. 

You’re glad Jack’s run upstairs when you realise the pain isn’t going away. It’s not bad, not half as bad as your contractions had been, but the whole labour process has sapped you, and you feel weak as a willow branch in bad weather. You shift heavily onto one leg and cross them, uncross them when the pain spikes again, letting out a weird and breathless whine as it turns to a full blown cramp. 

Jack returns with Aaron in tow. His hair is dripping wet, soap suds on his neck and his shirt stuck to his chest. He’s rushed out of the shower to see you. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks as he rounds the couch. “Jack told me you’re not feeling well.” 

You hold your arms out for a hug. He doesn’t falter, simply does as you want, his hair wringing wet and dripping onto your shoulder as he gathers you in his arms. 

You hold onto him like a lifeline. The cramp curls, and tightens, has you seizing up against him. 

“What is it?” he asks softly. “Stomach pains again?” 

The nurse said it’s your uterus shrinking. Whatever it is, it’s sudden agony. You shudder into Aaron’s shoulder until the pain pangs and fades, leaving your stomach a tense mess. It hurts to move, so you stay clinging to your husband and let him hover over you. 

“Are you okay?” Jack asks.

You sniff. 

Aaron pulls away to take your face into his hands. He holds you with care, his thumbs under your jaw, index fingers running diagonally under each eye, tips at your brows. Just a stolen few seconds for him to check you over. No tears to be wiped away. 

“Still hurting?” 

You shake your head, eyebrows pulled down in a bad frown. 

“Okay. Alright. Motrin?” he asks. 

“No,” you whisper, “can you just stay here?” 

Jack says your name. 

You peek past Aaron’s body. “Jack, sorry.” 

“Are you okay now?” 

You grimace, “I’m gonna be fine, it just hurts sometimes and I didn’t have any medicine today. That’s all. Sorry, I scared you.” 

“You didn’t scare me,” he denies. 

You can’t help smiling, then. “Okay, I didn’t. Thanks for getting dad for me.” 

“He’s our hero,” Aaron says. He sits down beside you carefully, his voice quiet and his hand gentle as he holds your thigh. “I’m glad he did.” 

Jack climbs into his dad’s lap. Aaron wraps an arm around him, the other at your side, fingers tapping at you. 

You rub your forehead. Tip your head back and take a deep breath. 

“Jack,” you whisper, breathing out, “I’m sorry if I startled you. It doesn’t hurt anymore.” 

“It wasn’t scary, I said that already.” 

“Oh, you did?” Aaron teases. 

“It was okay, I just don’t want you to hurt.” 

“Only baby pains,” you say. 

For a few minutes, you and your small family sit there in silence. Aaron works a hand behind your back to hug you, Jack snuggles into his chest, and Charlie stirs in his swing seat. The quiet calms him, and he goes back to his soft snoring seconds later. 

“I’m sorry about your shower,” you whisper. 

“It’s okay. I’m sorry about my baby,” Aaron whispers back, drawing circles into your lower back, “he didn’t mean to chew you up.” 

“Ugh, I know.” 

Jack raises his nose. “What? Chew? Do babies bite?” 

“It’s an expression, babe.” 

“Oh.” He looks at his baby brother with suspicion anyways. “He doesn’t even have teeth?” 

“Buddy, it’s just a joke,” Aaron says, laughing as Jack slips out of his lap to go and look at Charlie in the seat. 

“Maybe he did have teeth,” you say. 

Aaron ushers you toward him, rests his cheek on your forehead. “It’ll feel better soon. You need to rest, that’s all.” 

“Your hair is so wet.” 

“I was in the shower.” 

“Sorry…” 

“Don’t be,” he says. “Don’t be.” 

You reach up to tousle his wet hair. “Miss showering with you.” 

“We showered last night.” 

“No, I stood there and you helped me wash my back, that’s not the same.” 

“Well, I enjoyed it.” 

“I bet you did.” 

Your fondness attracts many, many kisses, his nose nuzzling your cheek. You settle under the weight of him and watch Jack where he frowns at Charlie, big brown eyes squinted, waiting for a show of teeth that won’t happen. Aaron brings a hand to your tense stomach, waiting for you to lean back before he begins massaging the tensed muscle there with a slowness that borders unmoving. 

“Tell me if it hurts too much,” he says. 

“You can go finish your shower.” 

“I was finished. M’gonna start pressing in, okay?” 

You wince as Aaron begins, but slowly, slowly, the tenseness from your cramp softens. It still hurts, but he makes it manageable. Jack delivered your rescuer, and your rescuer loves a soft touch.

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

father’s and mother’s day | s.r. x pregnant!fem reader

“happy father’s day!” annabeth came rushing into your bedroom causing you and spencer to flinch from the loud noise. you felt her scramble into the bed on spencer side, turning your head you saw how she cling to him.

spencer groaned, “thank you my love bug. you’re just as special since you granted me that title. i’d still be doctor spencer reid if you did come along.” he planted loving kisses along her chubby face. her high pitched giggles filled your heart.

“and what a shame that title would be,” you joked as you eyes the two. you looked down at your soon to be popped belly, “say hi to daddy.”

there was a kick and you quickly grab from spencer’s hand so he could feel the twins morning cheer. “hi charlotte and matthew, a great father’s day surprise was finding out there was two of you in there. mommy’s kinda glad we were able to get two kids in one, less work to be done.”

“but more pain for me,” poking a finger into his shoulder teasingly. spencer kissed at you stretched stomach, talking to both of them for a minute as your fingers carded through his hair and annabeth placed a hand beside his larger one to feel the kicks.

“does it hurt?” she asked you, her eyes wide and the same as spencer’s.

“a bit. they have to squeeze between my own organs, that’s why i need to pee a lot. my bladder is a victim to growing babes.” your free hand caressed at your daughters cheek, “you were such a good girl. you only kicked a few times then stopped, and sometimes you kicked when either of us talked directly to you. that’s why you know us so well already, we’ve been talking long before you came to earth.”

spencer moved to sit beside you, he planted a morning kiss upon your cheek. “did you know ties are the most common gift on father’s day? especially the best dad ones.”

“we got you one!” annabeth announced. spencer appeared shocked, “really! do i deserve the title of best dad though?”

annabeth stood to her feet, her legs wobbling with the mattress as she carried herself to spencer and threw her arms around his shoulders. “yes! yes! bestest dad in the universe!”

“the bravest and sweetest dad alive,” you added along.

-

a/n: i just threw this together in thirty minutes after waking up. happy father’s day.

[tinyluvs]

I’m so happy your on my dash again!!! I was wondering if u could do something like post-prison Spencer where him and the reader do “it” for the first time after he gets out, and instead of it being rough they r both completely blissed out by being so close to each other again! And it’s super gentle, slow, and just like love-drunk.

ah glad to have you back angel! i would love to! enjoy! *mdni!!* this ended up being much longer than i anticipated!! ♡

spencer showers the minute he gets home from prison and naturally, he takes twice as long as he normally does. you sit on the edge of the bed waiting for him, watching steam billow out from the open door

normally he wouldn't leave the door open but the thought of having something separating you from him, for even a few more minutes was too much

you watch as he dries off, just happy to have him home. he wanders back into the bedroom, smiling softly at you when you hold out his pyjama bottoms, folded neatly in your hand, "here," you whisper

"thanks honey," he mumbles, rubbing a towel over his hair so it's mostly dry. you look away when he gets changed, only hearing his towel fall to the floor with a soft thump, "hey,"

spencer crouches down in front of you, his hands smoothing over your thighs as your eyes flicker over his face. he looks tired though his eyes are soft, "i've missed you," your voice wobbles as you speak, tears flooding your eyes against your will

you hold his face in your hands, a gentle reminder that he's really there, your thumbs brushing over his cheeks, "no tears," he mumbles, sounding like he could cry too

in your best attempt to stop crying you kiss him, softly and slowly, letting him sigh contently against your lips. his hands slide up your legs, settling on your waist as he leans into you, pushing your body back until your laying underneath him

he pauses to breathe, eyes searching yours wildly while he hovers over you. his hips roll against yours, a soft gasp passes your lips as a whimper tumbles from his, "just," he pauses, his eyes shutting slowly, "need you," his forehead presses against yours

"i'm here," you whimper quietly, feeling his cock pressing against you, hard and tenting in his trousers. he hums against your jaw before pulling your bottom lip between his while his hand drops down between your bodies

your back arches immediately when he touches you through your trousers and panties, soft circles being rubbed over your clothed clit. "sit up," his voice is muffled by your lips on his but you get the gist, holding your body up just enough for him to get his hands up underneath your shirt

the loss of touch on your pussy makes you whine and paired with the cold air brushing over your nipples, you become desperate. he leaves a sloppy trail of open mouthed kisses down your neck, groaning gently to himself when he gets to your tit

his hair tickles against your chest and your fingers slide up his neck, tugging on the hairs at the base, "spence," you plead, his mouth on your nipple and his fingers against your clit becoming more teasing than anything else

"i know," he breathes hard and kisses your collarbone before he stands up, towering over you. his fingers slip underneath the waist of your trousers, gripping and tugging to pull both your trousers and panties down your legs, discarding them on the floor as you sit up

spencer steps between your legs, knowing what you're going to do before you can ask, he hasn't got time that now. he hisses when you get your hands on him, wrapping softly around him as he pushes his pyjama's down so he can step out of them

the tip of his cock weeps in your hand, precome leaking over the pad of your thumb, "fuck, angel," spencer groans through gritted teeth, his fingers tangling into your hair as his head tilts back

you lean forwards, pressing soft open mouthed kisses from the base of his cock to the tip, barely sliding your lips around the head before he's pushing you away, "don’t, i'll come,"

he's always been sensitive but after months of not being able to touch you, to have you, it's increased tenfold. you flop back down onto the bed, watching him carefully as he leans over you, his hand between your bodies once more

slowly he drags his fingers through your folds, spreading the wetness from your entrance to your clit, smiling softly to himself when your fingers wrap loosely around his wrist

"c'mere," you whimper softly, pulling his hand away from you so he crowds your space. your nails dig into his shoulder while your other hand guides his cock to where you need him, "please, please ple-,"

spencer thrusts forwards, filling you in one swift movement. he grunts deeply against your neck, listening to you moaning, your head tilted back against the mattress

after a moment, he starts to move, pulling his cock out until it's just the tip resting against your hole and then he's pushing straight back in, splitting you open

your nails dig into the back of his neck, holding his head against you, his breath and lips ghosting over your skin. your other hand trails over his shoulder blade, scratching lightly until you're pulling whimpers from your boyfriend

"i'm not going to last honey," spencer groans, his chest rumbling against yours and his hips bumping against the back of your thighs, creating a gentle slap every time

"i know," you reply softly, moving your hand from his back and down to your clit. wet, sticky sounds fill the room from your fingers and where spencer is fucking into you like it's the last thing he will ever do

he grunts and groans against your jaw, his mouth open, matching yours where a steady stream of whimpers tumble from between your lips. he adjusts his hips, thrusting into you from a slightly new angle, the tip of his cock pressing impossibly deep into you

"oh fuck," you whine, arching away from the mattress. your tits bounce slightly, nipples catching against his chest. spencer huffs, cheeks puffing out as he licks over your nipple

his free hand slides into yours, fingers tangling together by the side of your head, squeezing each other gently as his cock starts to twitch, the veins on his cock rubbing against your walls

"i'm so close," you cry, fingers frantically rubbing over your soaked pussy. tears slip down your cheeks, the feeling of spencer everywhere, over you, against you, inside you being far too much for you to handle

"can feel it," spencer groans, throwing his head back when you clench around him, trapping him there, "so good for me angel, i've missed you so much," he rambles, repeatedly pushing the tip of his cock against a spot only he can reach

his pelvis pushes your fingers against your clit in time with his thrusts, causing your brain to switch off, reducing you to a crying, whimpering mess underneath him, completely blissed out

"god," spencer whimpers, a sound you'll never get sick of hearing, "angel, i can't ho-, fuck, i'm going to come," he whines, high pitched and panting hard

you turn towards your hands, still clasped together at your side. you kiss at the vein on his forearm, dragging your lips up his arm as your orgasm takes over, your entire body shaking

spencer comes at the same time you do, cock jerking inside of you as you tighten around him. both of you moan and pant loudly, your body shivering slightly when come floods your cunt, thick and warm, filling you up more after every wave

"oh my god," you sigh gently, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him into you, his weight fully pressing you into the mattress, "i love you," you mumble, peppering kisses over his temple

“love you more,” spencer hums, scooping your body up carefully, making sure he stays inside of you. he manoeuvres you around so he’s laying against the bed and you’re on top of him

“never leave me again,” you whisper, your head lolling into the crook of his neck as his fingers trail up the dip in your spine softly, “please,”

“never, i promise”

thanks for reading! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a smooch if you do, ily!! send prompts to my ask box!

❥ spencer reid masterlist !!

a/n i proofread this but if you see a mistake, holla at me

[drewsbuzzcut]

Christmas Trees & Ice Skating

mat barzal x model!fem!reader

a visceral in doses fic

warnings: mentions injuries but no actual injuries and slightly mentions panicking and fears

This takes place almost a year into their relationship!

“In the few years I’ve lived here, I’ve never come to see the Rockefeller tree. It’s beautiful,” you whisper, body rigid even though Mat’s hugging you from behind.

Right now you’re both on the ice rink, taking in the view of the Christmas tree. You’re feeling like a newborn deer, so Mat is holding onto you extra tight- not that you’re complaining.

“Yeah, it’s really cool. I’m glad I was able to be the first person you got to experience it with,” he mutters into the skin of your neck.

“I’m glad, too. Although I’m not glad I’m on ice and on skates,” you say, slowly turning around to face Mat, your feet wobbly.

“It’ll be okay. I’m going to help you as much as you need, baby,” he whispers in your ear.

“Say it again,” you request for him to use the pet name again, your body leaning into his.

“Baby,” he says in his soft voice that only you get to hear.

“You swear you won’t let me fall?” You ask, feet spread on the ice as you clutch onto the sleeves of Mat’s hoodie.

“I swear,” he claims, a hint of an amused smile gracing his features. His hands are placed on your hips to keep you from slipping.

“I cannot believe you’re making me do this,” you shriek, cheeks growing redder despite them already being red from the cold.

“It’s part of our deal! I do a little photo shoot with you and you let me teach you how to ice skate,” he reminds you of a prior deal you made with him.

“Fine. We can move now,” you say, feeling your nerves bubble in your stomach when he pulls you by your hands.

Your hands noticeably tremble in his hold, so he makes sure to tighten his grip. He’s moving backwards while you slowly start to move your legs.

“You got this!” He encourages you.

“I got this,” you say in a panicked laugh, body still shaking with nerves.

“You do! You just need to take a couple deep breaths and concentrate,” He assures you.

“Don’t let me go,” you whisper, still lightly laughing in disbelief.

“I won’t,” he claims.

“Oh my god! Mat!” You say as he starts to skate a little faster. Your hands pull out of his grips to fist the sleeves of his hoodie.

“Mathew, oh my god,” you say frantically, small little laughs falling from your lips as you try to disguise your fear.

“Babe, you’re doing just fine. Focus on something to take your mind off it,” he suggests.

You look up into his eyes, immediately feeling butterflies take over your nerves. He’s staring back at you. Maybe you should be taking in the sight of the crowded ice rink and the big Rockefeller tree, or focus on your movements, but you can’t help but stay focused on your boyfriend.

You’ve only been dating for around 10 months, but you already feel so much for the hockey player in front of you. You feel his hands squeeze yours and for a moment you feel everything slip away. You move to take a step towards Mat, desperately wanting his lips on yours, forgetting that you’re in skates. Your one step turns into you slipping, grabbing ahold of your boyfriend’s shoulders as you fall forward.

It takes Mat by surprise, so by trying to regain his balance, you both end up falling onto the ice. He doesn’t get to break your fall as you’re chest to chest with your back flat on the ice. His large body hovers over you as you look into each other’s eyes. It seems like Mat is extremely shocked and guilty. You huff in deep breaths, trying to calm your erratic heart.

“I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” He asks frantically. His eyes roam over your body, searching for any injuries.

“How can I trust you to score me a goal when I can’t even trust you to catch me when I fall?” You tease him but it makes him stressed.

He immediately starts blabbering, spewing apologies and questions about your potential injuries. His eyes are wide and his cheeks are a shade of red you’ve never seen on his face. You think it’s lovely, and you know you want to see it again. You hold back a giggle, reaching up to grasp his face in your hands and silencing him with a kiss.

You can physically feel his body relax, his attention now being placed on kissing you well. Your hands travel to his back, heart fluttering at the feeling of his muscles from under his hoodie.

“I’m just joking,” you whisper against his lips, slightly out of breath.

He lets out a soft exhale, his forehead coming down to rest on your shoulder.

“We should probably get up before someone complains about us being in this slightly r-rated position,” you giggle, carding your fingers through his hair.

“You’re right. I should probably carry you off the ice being that you’re quite the skater,” he teased you, earning a scoff and a playful shove.

“Don’t be jealous. I’m coming for your job, so you better watch out,” you tease back, yelping as Mat pulls you over his shoulder as he starts to skate off the ice.

“That’s fine. I actually like being in front of the camera, maybe we can switch,” he muses, making you laugh loudly.

“You wish,” you say through a gasp as he slaps your ass.

Once completely off the ice, he finally sets you back on your feet for you to readjust your clothes and pull off the skates.

“I thought we’d be here a lot longer,” you say, realizing you’d only been at the rink for half an hour.

“We’re just getting some hot chocolate, then I’m taking you back on the ice until you can skate at least 1 minute without me holding you,” he informs you, which makes you pout.

“Why must you insist on torturing me?”

He just gives you a devilish smirk, leading you to get your hot chocolate.

You take a pause from walking right where the huge Christmas tree looms over the both of you, and it does wonders with lighting up you and Mat. You can see the smile on his face clear as day. He holds your skates while you both sip on hot chocolate, trying to keep warm.

He steps closer to you, throwing an arm around your neck to pull you in. His nose nudges yours, his lips getting closer to yours as he lets them brush against each other. You lean up, connecting your mouths together. Your body seemingly warms up despite the freezing temperature.

“Thank you,” he whispers into your kiss.

“For what?” You pull back, cupping his cheek with one of your hands. You softly caress his bottom lip as it’s slightly swollen from the kiss.

“For letting me teach you to ice skate even though you’re scared of it. I just wanted you to be able to skate around with me during family skate,” he says softly and your heart melts in your chest.

“If you don’t kiss me now, I’ll freeze to death,” you blurt out, cheeks red because you’re still feeling giddy about what he just said.

He lets out a small laugh, pulling your mouth back on his until you have to pull away for air.

You never thought you’d want to learn to ice skate so badly until now.

a/n: I don’t really like how this came out, but I didn’t feel like continuously changing everything. Anyways, I hope y’all enjoy it!!!

[hansensgirl]

summary. | Andy Barber’s wife has taken one step forward, but also two steps back.

prompts. | Andy Barber + Mob/Mafia + “Take you home? This is home. You aren’t going anywhere.” + Stockholm syndrome, requested by Anonymous.

pairing. | dark!mob boss!Andy Barber x fem!reader.

warnings. | NON/DUBCON, captivity, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, conditioning/grooming, pet names, ex-basement wife, past use of restraints, manipulation, gaslighting, housewife kink, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!

author’s note. | this is a part of my Dark Concepts (2023) request form. thank you for taking part in this event! please enjoy and don’t forget to reblog. MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY! taglist: @hansensfics.

When Andy’s associates ask him—their boss—how his wife is doing, he always smiles and says you’re doing great. 

At first, this was not true. 

You were quite the brat—kicking, screaming, and crying at the mob boss whenever he’d come close to you. You did not adjust well to the basement until he had to teach you that this was your new life now, whether you liked it or not. And he promised you will like it—you must. 

But now, Andy’s words are honest. He even goes as far as to share your newest creations, like a cherry pie or a hand-knitted scarf. They all marvel and remark that he’s a lucky man. That he is.

The lock turns, and you know your husband is home. Anxiety fills you—you usually watch the time, but today, it seemingly slipped your mind. You enjoy your time to yourself, since you are free from the looming threat of messing things up for the mob boss.

You smooth your skirt and stand up, placing your cross-stitching hoop on the table beside you. You fold your hands and force a smile, hoping that the evening and night will be lovely. 

You have awaited his arrival all day, not knowing what to do with yourself when he isn’t around. It’s odd—you never were like this. But then again, your life was much different then. 

You’ve been preparing your request all day. You know it’s far-fetched—a dream so distant from your reality—but it doesn't hurt to try. Andy always says never to be afraid to ask him for something. 

Andy walks in and enables all the security features, though they’re no longer necessary. You know better than to try and escape. “Honey? I’m home,” he calls out, and you step out of the library he installed just for you. 

It was a gift for your five-month anniversary. That night, he fucked you for the first time without the need for restraints. 

“Hi,” you greet, walking up to him and pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek. Andy’s beard tickles your face, and for once, you don’t fight back your giggle. The first time it happened, he smiled so hard. But you were disgusted with yourself—you threw up a few moments later. 

“How was your day, sw– sweetie?” you ask, voice breaking. You’re not used to this, but you try just for your sweet husband. 

Andy grabs your arm and leads you to the dining room. Your steps are much shorter than his. Your ankles wobble in your heels, but he slows down just for you. How kind of him. No regular man would ever do that. 

“Oh, it was nice. Better now that you’re home,” you hum. Ever the gentleman, Andy pulls a chair out for you first and gestures for you to sit. You do as he says. You can’t help it. 

“Oh, yeah?” he chuckles, sitting down as well. You nod your head. Your smile doesn’t drop.

“You’re adorable, honey,” Andy coos. He rolls the sleeves of his dress shirt up and loosens the top button, exhaling deeply.

“Long day?” you question, squeezing the edges of your seat. Your leg bounces, and you hope Andy doesn’t notice. He doesn’t need to worry about you—he already has so much on his plate. You would hate to be a bother. 

“You know it. But I’m glad to be home with you now, baby,” he says. “How about I get you a drink?” you offer, already standing up. Andy reaches for your wrist. “Later, sweetie. I just want to spend some time with you,” he tells you. 

Obediently, you listen. “Good girl.” The praise makes your inside warm. You love his kind words. You regret ever insulting him during those days. 

“Oh, well, I did want to ask you something…” you begin, exhaling shakily. Andy’s brow furrows in word, and he’s quick to place a hand on yours, rubbing your skin soothingly. “What’s wrong, honey? Are you alright?” he asks, and you quickly nod.

“Then what is it?” Andy urges, waiting patiently for whatever it is you have to say. “Don’t worry. I won’t get mad,” the much-feared mob boss promises.

You bite the bullet.

“I… want you to take me home,” you whisper, looking down at the table so you don’t have to watch his wrath form. 

A few moments of silence pass. Your breathing becomes rapid as you panic inwardly. 

“Take you home?” Andy eventually repeats, as if making sure he heard you right. You nod. “I mean– Us,” you quickly correct, though you know it does nothing to fix your blunder.

You curse yourself. How stupid are you? How selfish? Andy has given you so much—he has loved you like no man ever could. And here you are, throwing it all back in his face. 

You already start forming an apology, ready to take whatever punishment he’ll dole out. Even the basement. 

“This is home. You aren’t going anywhere,” Andy growls, fists and jaw clenching. 

Your vision blurs, and sobs swim in your voice. “I– I know. I’m sorry—I’m so sorry,” you begin, bursting into silent sobs. Your tears fall onto the oak table, streaking down your cheeks. 

Andy doesn’t say anything. “Pl– Please, Andy. I’m sorry. I don’t know why I asked,” you continue. He stares at you, his gaze hard. He swallows.

“Please, can we start over?” you beg, finally looking up at him. Andy subtly nods, and you’re about to thank him when he speaks up, interrupting you.

“What for dinner, sweetie?” Andy asks, looking at the kitchen. You go with what he does. “I haven’t made anything yet. I was waiting for you to come home,” you tell him.“How about we skip dinner, hm?” he offers, and you can see his eyes go dark. 

You smile at the innuendo. Whatever your husband wants. 

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

Can I request some bimbo!reader x Daryl? I love the way you write that dynamic sm!! Maybe protective Daryl when they run into a bad group or something of the sorts, love ur writing Xx💖💖

fem bimbo!plus size reader, wc: 538.

a/n: AHHHH I'M FINALLY CLEANING OUT MY DRAFTS!! there are some pretty good requests in here, i just bit off more than i could chew 🫤 BUT now i'm ready and here to rock and roll! B]

cw! angst, hints at murder and men with not so pure intentions ;(

Daryl loved you; he looked at you like you were the only woman in the world, almost as if you had hung the damn moon in the sky.

 But unfortunately, you were a very big liability, as well as a distraction to a certain bowman.

Case in point, Daryl shouldn’t have brought you with him. You were too soft and pretty to be out in a world that he knew was dangerous and unforgiving. He had worked his ass off to protect you just to put you back in the line of fire because he couldn’t say no to you.

You were hurt and it was all his fault.

You were shaking like a leaf in his hold, and your clothes were covered in blood and dirt – luckily the blood wasn’t yours. 

“‘S okay, yer alrigh’.” Daryl calmed your quiet sobs, gently swiping at the dried blood that had leaked from the cut of your brow.

There was a bruise forming on the corner of your mouth and Daryl felt sick to his stomach.

“I - I was so scared, bear…” You sniffled, your fingers gripping at his biceps in order to ground yourself. 

You were sitting in the bathroom of your shared Alexandrian home, sat atop the counter with your boyfriend perched between your legs. Since it was getting dark Daryl had lit your favorite candle in hopes that the scent of it would soothe you and offer him some much needed light.

“I know, sunshine, I know.” 

“I thought I was gonna die, D.”

The blood in Daryl’s veins simmered, and he felt the same helpless anger he had the moment that you were held from him, though the men didn’t last long. Daryl usually felt bad when he killed the living, but these men deserved the arrow that had penetrated their skulls.

“But ya didn’t.” What else was he supposed to say? He knew how much it upset you whenever he got to blaming himself for things that were completely out of his control.

“I shouldn’t have let ya come with me. I fuckin’ knew I shouldn’t have let you anyway.”

Your wet eyes grew even softer than they already were and your lip-wobbled pitifully.

“‘M sorry.” He put the wet rag down to hold your face, his large and calloused thumb softly caressed your cheeks. “Nah, don’ apologize. ‘M jus’ sorry about yer shirt. I know it’s your favorite.”

You had been so excited to finally go outside of the walls that you rushed to put on your nicest outfit – which unfortunately backfired.

“Oh, yeah,” You took a moment to look down, your fingers tugging the hem out. “I’m just glad you were there with me. I know I’m gonna be okay when you’re around.” There was something about the way you spoke that could calm Daryl down in an instant.

All the fight that he had in his body practically melted off and he found himself slumping forward, your arms coming around his broad shoulders to hold him closer to you. You were so soft and warm, and you smelt so good – like vanilla – despite your past circumstances.

“‘M always with ya; ya know that, right?”

“Mhm,” You said with a nod. “I know.”

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @celtic-crossbow @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @alixwriter @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus

[reidslovely]

Can I Have a Moment (Before I Go)

Pairing: (Implied Mob) Peter Parker x Fem! Reader

Content Warnings: None.

Authors Note: I think I am only good for angst anymore, that is all I am giving recently. Sorry. Also not proof written at all because I wrote this in one go.

Synopsis: In a gathering of hundreds of individuals, two ex-lovers find each other.

“He is just so..magnetic. The way he talks, he has you holding on to every word.” Mary-Jane hums as she sips on her gin and tonic, blissfully unaware of the butterflies building up in her friend's stomach. “I still won’t ever understand what happened between you two.” 

Calmly, she pushed her hair off her cheek before clearing her throat. Looking at Mary-Jane the other girl shook her head before finishing her drink all in one go. 

“We were kids. Too young to understand everything that was going on.

 Standing on her wobbling legs she excused herself, trying to exit to the ladies room quickly and quietly before Peter could B-line her way. The intense eye contact during his speech was enough, and now she had his eyes locked to her figure as he spoke with a dark haired man about god knows what. She had to gather herself before they could have any interaction. 

A shaky breath left her as she found the line for the ladies room, her hands resting on her hips as she screwed her eyes shut counting backwards from 10. She opened her eyes back up and suddenly the world was not swallowing her whole, and the pink satin of her dress no longer strangled her to death. One of the models standing in front of her turned back to look at her, a clear sense of worry in her eyes as she forced a smile back. She was thankful that the other girl left it at that and turned back to whoever she was talking to in line. 

Just when everything settles, her ears prick up at the sound of her name from a familiar voice. 

“(Y/N)!” 

In a moment of reflex she turned over her shoulder to see Peter striding over to her, more handsome than he had been all those years ago. She took him in, he was a man now. Full beard, clad in a baby blue suit and nice haircut. A gold band sitting on his left ring finger and suddenly butterflies were slowly turning into a cardiac arrest. She took his outstretched hand, slotting perfectly into his as he brought her into a hug, a friendly kiss on the cheek. The same old routine of lovers turned to strangers. 

“Peter. Oh gosh, how have you been? I haven't seen you in so long.” 

His eyes twinkled in the dimly lit venue. His hand still turned hers over in his palm as he watched her. For a moment he looked like he did the night they met. 

“I know, I- I’ve been meaning to reach out but I’ve been so busy with work and I just got married and..life.” He laughs, it is airy and almost like he doesn't have a care in the world. He always did that, even when the world was falling down around them Peter would laugh and smile and everything would feel settled for a minute. She opened her mouth to talk but nothing came out, she looked over shoulder to the line getting shorter. 

“Listen, uh if you have a moment I’d love to talk and catch up.” 

He offered, she was still painfully aware of how tightly he was holding her hand. Though his tone was cool and calm, his body language was begging. His chest rose and fell almost in a rapid pattern, and there was a slight shake to his hand. Looking around she cleared her throat, nodding as she made eye contact with the crowd of people to avoid his eyes. 

“Yeah, I can meet you on the rooftop in a couple of minutes. I just-” She pointed over her shoulder awkwardly to the bathroom. “Want to freshen up. Long night.” 

“Of course..yeah. Yeah I’ll meet you there.” He hugged her again, leaving without a kiss to the cheek. She watched him tuck his hands in his pockets walking towards the staircase to the rooftop. A part of her was glad to fight all the voices telling her to turn back around and run, if she had she’d miss the smile he gave her across the room. 

The rooftop was a bit more chilly than she had predicted it would be. Her eyes landed on Peter, a cigarette in his hand as he looked over the city. She stood still for a moment, taking in the man he’d become, unsure of how to approach him. 

“Want a hit?” 

He laughs as he turns around, her eyes having drilled through his back long enough. She shook her head as she approached with soft steps, heels in hand. The wind had picked up, prickling at her skin sending a chill down her spine. Or maybe it was due to the lack of space between them. She wished she had a camera, to take a picture of how he looked. Both obviously older, Peter had wrinkles and smile lines on his face which were well complimented by the gray hairs decorating his dark beard. She herself had found her first gray hair earlier today, should have been a sign for how the day was going to go. 

“What are you looking at?” He laughed while putting out the cigarette on the stone. (Y/N) smiled, shaking her head, laughing at herself. 

“You got old.” 

Peter threw his head back laughing, covering his mouth with his hand before settling down. “Yeah, well you’re one to talk.” 

“No, no it’s just strange. That’s all..last time I saw you we were fighting over marriage and kids. You taking over the business, me going into modeling. And now, well.” 

“It’s funny because we were just kids ourselves.” He sighs. “God I was nineteen on my hands and knees begging you to marry me. It was all I wanted.” 

Silence crept in as she remembered the last thread of stress that broke them apart, she remembers how devastated and heartbroken they both were. She had nothing to say except: “It wasn’t going to be a no for forever. I had just turned nineteen Peter, I had my first real modeling job. Everything was getting too scary. I just..”

“Needed time. I was impatient, let's be honest I was never good at waiting.” 

It was her turn to laugh, her hand raising to cover her face. “You really weren’t but look..” She pointed at the band on his finger. “Gwen’s a lucky woman, I’m glad you two reconnected. If it wasn’t me I’m glad it was her.” 

Maybe it was the wrong thing to say, but he didn’t seem to care. He smiled his signature Peter Parker smile and she couldn’t help but give one back.

 “I did really love you, and I hope you know I carry it with me every day. I carry you with me.” Peter says quietly, looking down at the city. She pressed her lips together, her hand reaching out and rubbing his back. 

“Same here. I still look for you in everybody I date.” She admits with a soft breath. “I loved you, and a part of me always will. Pleas-” She was cut off by the door opening, the photographer from the party smiled at them. 

“Some red head told me I could find you up here, we need a picture of our two biggest donors.” He raised his camera, almost as a prompt. Peter smiled and nodded, whispering a quick of course. “As long as I can get a copy sent to me.” He laughed. 

His arm wrapped around her in a  smile. (Y/N) smiled back, even though she knew there was a storm of emotions brewing in her eyes, she hoped the smile on her face was genuine. She was thankful that he came when he did, because the next words out of her mouth could have torn them both up. She’d just have to keep that to herself. 

taglist: @sincericida @blooming-violets @tarzinnia @moonyslove78 @liz-allyn @someblessedmonster @helloheyhihowdyheya @a-lumos-in-the-nox @hollandweather @toomanyfictionalboyfriends

[daenysx]

hiii it's the crying anon !!! (lol) ibe been so sad today bc i literally failed my ap exam like i did terrible and i e just been so sad and in my head all day :/// i literally just need a hug like im so sad and i need a james potter rn :( would you kind writing something for this ??? if not, it's totally okay my lovely , have a great day !!!

i'm so sorry, baby, i hope this helps making you feel better a bit!! you can always reach out when you're sad (if you wanna talk to someone!!) i'll be here. love u <33333

james potter x fem!reader

you try to stay calm as you knock on james's door.

he shares the apartment with sirius and remus but you know they are not here right now. it's a relief, no matter how close friends you are with them, you wouldn't want them to see you cry.

when james opens the door, you first spot his glasses. his hair looks messy, wild waves finding their own shape on his head, his skin warm. he looks like he's just woken up, you feel sorry for interrupting his sleep.

"i'm sorry, jamie." you begin saying. "were you sleeping?"

james quickly holds your hand to welcome you inside. "just fell asleep on the couch, angel. i'm glad you wake me, it always messes with my night sleep."

you give him a broken smile. james closes the door, he helps you take off your jacket. you put your bag on the floor, slipping out of your shoes, never looking at james's direction as you make your way to his bedroom. he follows you.

the room smells like him everywhere, and the safety you feel around james overwhelms you so hard, it hits you. you start crying without any control, without trying to stop yourself. james looks surprised but he reacts quickly as always, he holds your arms gently, then his kind fingers are on your chin to see your face.

"sweetheart." he says. "what's- what's wrong?"

"my exam." you manage to say and he understands. james doesn't like asking unnecessary questions about a situation when you cry your eyes out, especially. you can tell everything later, when you calm down. he knows the exam is important, he knows how much you studied, and how stressed you were days before.

"i'm sorry." he says, reaching for you. "oh, my baby." he coos, you feel so vulnerable in his arms as he holds you, your face tucked in his neck with his hands rubbing on the tense muscles of your back. you cry against him, but james is strong. he'll hold you as long as you need him.

he strokes your hair, drying up your fresh tears as much as he can. you lean on him, your legs feel numb, and your head hurts. you tried to stay strong all day long, keeping a neutral face even though you were disappointed, but now that it's safe, you let out every emotion that begs to be free.

james whispers gentle words against your ear. he doesn't know if they help but he never liked silence. you lift your head to see him, your wet cheeks and wobbly lip crash his heart. you never deserve to cry. he rubs two desperate thumbs on your cheeks to get your pretty face back from tears.

"my head hurts, jamie." you say. "can i have some water?"

"of course." james says. "sit on the bed, angel, i'll be right back."

he takes a bottle of cold water from the fridge. you don't like eating when you're upset, james knows this, so he won't ask if you're hungry. he returns to his room, gets on his knees to reach your spot on bed.

you take a few sips from the bottle. it helps cooling down your throat. you look at james's worried face. he tries to hide it but his forehead has wrinkles, they always appear when he gets nervous.

"i'm okay." you say. "i'm sorry, that was- a lot. i did really bad, i just-"

"baby." he hushes you with a kiss on your hand. you look like you're explaining for his sake and not because you want to speak. "you have nothing to be sorry for. let's talk about this later, okay? you need to get some sleep."

you nod gratefully. james gives you one of his rugby team t-shirts. you change into it quickly, your legs stay bare. he helps you get under the covers, joins you exactly two minutes later after taking off his clothes and texting remus to let him know you'll be sleeping in his room.

he is so warm, you wrap your legs around his immediately. your head stays on his chest as he holds your waist and plays with your fingers with his other hand. you take quiet breaths to relax, your eyes hurt from all those crying.

"it's all gonna be okay." he silently promises. "can you try not to think of it for a few hours, lovely girl? i know it's hard but- you need to sleep on it. you need to get some rest."

"okay." you say. you have no energy left. james turns to his side to press you better against him. you think you'll be better once your breathing turns normal. he strokes your hair gently and squeezes your body just the way you like. you wrap a tired arm around his waist. closing your eyes, you try to forget about everything.

james kisses your forehead. he thinks a good cup of coffee and your favorite breakfast can make the morning a bit better for you. he'll listen if you wanna talk, answer your questions if you have any. he thinks about how upset you've been all day long and a protective wave washes over him again. his arms around you has never been this tight.

[perseephoneee]

Ice-scating with Diego Hargreeves please 🥺

ice skating (diego hargreeves x gn!reader) ficmas 2023

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ happy day 3 of ficmas!

a/n: sorry this one is so short, but i hope it still brings all the holiday fluff vibes that are necessary.

↳ masterlist  ↳ ship exchange ↳ join my taglist ↳ ficmas 2023

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Diego glared at the ice skates in his hand, looking at the rink currently populated by families, teenagers, and even the geriatric population. He didn’t want to ice skate. He didn’t want to be here at all. Except that you wanted to ice skate because “the-world-is-ending-and-if-we’re-all-going-to- die-I’d-like-to-do-this-with-my-boyfriend-once.” He had never been that good at turning you down. He just also wasn’t that good at ice skating. You, on the other hand, were a freaking angel. Diego couldn’t peel his eyes away as he watched you glide across the ice, smiling. You even managed to turn backward and let the skates take you. He hadn’t seen you laugh in a long time. You ended up sliding right over to him, hands stopping your motion against the wall as you stared at Diego sitting on the bench. 

“Are you going to ice skate or what?” You raised a brow, looking at your boyfriend in amusement. 

“I’m working on it.”

“You’re terrified, aren’t you?” you chuckle, poking him in the shoulder as he swats you away. 

“I’m not,” he snaps, letting out a huff of air. “Just…never done it before. Don’t want to embarrass myself,” Diego mumbled. You leaned over and took his hand in yours, your mitten-clad hand enveloped in his own. 

“You won’t embarrass yourself; you have me,” you smiled before gesturing back to the ice. “Plus, Klaus is embarrassing himself all on his own.”

True to your word, Klaus was prancing across the ice like no one's business. It's not that he couldn't skate (he was excellent). He was acting like he had taken shrooms before getting on the ice. Knowing Klaus, he likely had. His arms were wiggling around as he balanced on one leg and spoke out loud the whims and wiles of the ice. You were glad he was having fun, even though Diego was annoyed that Klaus had invited himself (again) to another one of your couple activities. 

“Please? We can get hot cocoa after,” You pouted, and with an eye roll, Diego finally relented. He tied on the skates and wobbled to a standing position, hobbling over to the entrance. You held out your hands, reorganizing your stance so you could support him if he started to fall. Diego slipped a little as he grabbed the wall and your hand, a panicked sound leaving him. “You gotta bend your knees, don’t freeze up.” He let out a hiss, which made you laugh, but he hesitantly moved one foot in front of the other, letting the ice carry him around the perimeter. You skated right next to him, reaching out occasionally to keep him studying. Eventually, he started to relax, and you smiled as he got the hang of it. Diego laughed excitedly as he let go of the side wall. He even whooped as he made his first lap without any help. By the second time around, you skated and grabbed his hand, interlocking your fingers with him. 

“Thanks for indulging me,” you said, looking up at Diego. He could be a stubborn ass at the worst of times, but he always made you feel supported in ways you hadn’t experienced before in your life. Diego brought your enjoined hands to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of your palm. 

“Ice skating is pretty cool,” Diego admitted. “Manly, since it has blades.”

“Oh, absolutely,” you chuckled, waving as Klaus circled you. To cause mass chaos, which you were starting to think was Klaus’ mission in life, he reached out for Diego’s open hand and dragged the two of you behind him. This didn’t work out with the intended effect and instead led to all of you sprawling across the ice like a hockey accident. 

“Klaus!” Diego growled, reaching to beat up his brother. Klaus rolled away, sending an apology as he skated away. Diego crawled over you like a starfish on the ice as you lay. “Are you alright?” You smirked instead of answering, grabbing the front of Diego’s jacket and kissing him. 

“I’m perfect,” you laughed. Diego kissed you again before helping you up, letting you lean against him as you shuffled over to the side of the rink. “Should we get hot cocoa now?”

“Oh, yes, please,” Diego huffed, helping you off the rink and holding your hand to the hot cocoa stand the entire time.

[luveline]

Hiii, if you’re interested, could I request Eddie but as an ice hockey player?? Your writing is out of this world and I would just love to read about his flushed cheeks after practice or something like that. I hope you’re doing great and I love your stuff❤️❤️❤️

thank you so much, for your request and for being so lovely, it means the world to me! ♡ fem!reader, 1.2k

He comes flying across the ice like he's weightless. A dropping sensation hits your stomach while your heart leaps into your throat, but Eddie saves himself at the last minute with a quick, hard turn, his left foot further out. Ice curls in his wake, sheared by the sharp blade of his skate. 

"How was that?" he calls up to you where you're sitting in the second row of the stands.  

"You can really see a difference," you say, crossing one leg over the other and hiding your frigid fingers between your thighs. "The two hundred metre sprints must be working, Eds. You're like a fricking whippet, it's scary." 

"They better be working," he says. "God, I fucking hate sprints." 

Eddie hates every aspect of his conditioning workouts. He loves hockey, and if he wants to be able to keep up with the rest of his team, let alone the opposition, he needs to stay fit in ways that are specific to the sport, so the sprints are a necessary evil.

He doesn't care for much of it. The deadlifting is a good look on him, though. Watching his muscles physically get bigger in size has been an Experience, capital 'E'. His weight gain in general, actually. 

"Do you feel tired?" you ask. 

Eddie groans, putting his arm up and behind his head, forcing his elbow down with the opposite hand. He doesn't realise how salalcious he appears, worse when he scrunches his eyes closed and turns his face to one side. "I always feel tired. This is good, though. Maybe Steve'll stop busting my ass at practice for getting winded before the third period."

You're glad it's so cold in the rink. His grumpy expression has you flushing all over. 

"Steve spends the majority of his time on the ice hunched over," you say. "Of course he doesn't get winded."

You wouldn't feel comfortable making a snide joke about Eddie's friends usually, but Steve knows you. He calls you Eddie's wife, though you aren't married, always trying to feed you hard pretzels while mouthing off about Eddie's shit plays. Hence your nonchalant disparagement. 

Eddie grins at you, dropping his arms back down to his sides. "Where're your skates, sweetheart? Come and take a lap with me." 

You brought your skates at his request. You'd climb the appalachian trail on your hands and knees if he asked you to, and not just because he's handsome and getting more so everyday, but because he's gorgeous on the inside. Kind of like finding a pretty rock and cracking it open to find gemstone, you'd been drawn to Eddie and his rough exterior, but you've grown to love him for what's inside. His sweetness, his charm. The way he's looking at you now —eyes wide, hopeful. You could believe that the only thing he wants in the whole world is to skate with you. 

"I'll slip again," you fret, having already mentally given in. 

Eddie knows you have, too. "I am not gonna let you fall over," he promises. "Put your gloves back on, yeah? It's cold." 

You put on your skates and gloves and wobble to the gap in the rink walls to step out. Eddie's waiting, taking your elbow into his hand to help you out. He's been playing ice hockey longer than you've known him, and while you've been by his side for his rise to tier 3, you've become less familiar with the ice rather than more. You're frankly intimidated by what he can do. He's fast. He's a great sportsman (with a short fuse, undoubtedly, but he's never unkind to the people around him) (besides that one on-ice official). Eddie's amazing, but he can't give you confidence on the ice. Only practice can do that. 

You're not super willing to practise. "Please don't let me fall on my ass, Eddie." 

"There's nobody here to see it. And if you fall, I'll help you up, I swear. But you're not going to fall over." 

While not specifically true, recreational skaters making lazy laps and a young figure skater working on waltz jumps in the defending zone, his surety makes you feel better.

Being on skates is a strange feeling. Eddie skates with the same ease as he walks. You freeze up, locking your hips. He moves his hand from your elbow to your hand. You can feel his fingers like blocks of ice through your gloves.

"Do you want to try just walking, or would you feel better skating in a circle?" he asks. 

"Uh–" Your footing slips. You're panicking. "Um, whatever you want." 

His cheeks glow with blush, his nose tip like a budding rose. He doesn't feel the cold anymore, nor fear of falling, setting you both on a speed akin to a light jog. You breathe out with a nervous squeak, fingers locked around his hand. 

"You got it," he says, in his way, too cool for you. His voice is awfully pretty sometimes, a little rough, all fond. He dotes via praise, his thumb petting pointless circles into the back of your hand. "You're always better than you think." 

"I don't know how you can find this fun," you say nervously. 

He tips his chin up, his disorderly bun pressed to the back of his neck. "It's not all fun. Sometimes I don't wanna do it as much as I did when I started, but sometimes I wanna do it more than ever. Like, getting bumped up? Well, you know how I felt." 

He'd hugged you so hard the air got knocked out of you. The celebrations were unrestrained. 

"I love hockey almost as much as I love you," he says, sending an appreciative smile your way. 

Your heart skips. "You love me more than hockey?"

"What kind of a question is that? Of course I do." He slows his skating, slows you with him, and kisses your cheek. His lips are as cold as his fingers. "But I want you to love hockey, so first you need to skate." 

"Don't yank me." 

"I'm yanking you, sweetheart. It's just like roller-blading." 

"I can't rollerblade." 

"No?" he asks, picking up his foot and putting it down, his thighs moving outward with each stroke. You scramble to keep up with him. 

"Eddie!" you shout, terrified as you swing around a corner. Despite the fear, you know he won't let you get hurt. Well, super hurt. 

"You're fine! Come on, let's see if we can meet my lap time." He smiles. Red cheeks, pink lips, and the world's warmest brown eyes. "You should start doing sprints with me. And lifting! That would be hot." 

You'd snort if you weren't too busy trying to stay in an upright position. You'll be surprised if Eddie has any bones left in his hand tonight when you're done. 

He doesn't once complain about your vice-like grip. 

[13keithxpidge13]

Back to my AU where Rhaenyra marries Harwin and he watches over his babies whenever Rhaenyra has to go off for her Queenly duties.

Lucerys Targaryen is only a few months old, can't be left alone for long so Harwin tends to him when Rhaenyra is not around. But, lately, Prince Aemond has been sneaking into the newborns chambers and Harwin will watch as he stands on his tippy toes to stare at his newborn son as he sleeps the afternoon away while the rest of the world is awake and abuzz with life outside those double doors.

Prince Aemond, only a year and a few moons old, likes to babble in his own baby language to little Luke who can't understand a word he's saying but flails his tiny arms and kicks his legs around as though he does.

Jacaerys will whine and kick when he catches his uncle inside Luke's room. Harwin scolds him one day and asks him why he doesn't want his uncle Aemond to visit his younger brother and Jacaerys replies with a loud; "'Cause he wan' to steal him!"

Harwin thinks he's overreacting like an elder brother would until he finds Prince Aemond barely holding Luke up in his arms as he walks down the hall while little Luke is wrapped in a blue blanket, his tiny legs wobbling with every step as Harwin almost falls over with how hard he's roaring with his laughter.

"My prince," Harwin chuckles as he picks the two up and Prince Aemond screeches like a little angry dragon when Harwin's son is taken from his arms. "Luke needs to stay in his crib, yes? You wouldn't want your nephew to get hurt, now would you?"

It takes some coercing but Prince Aemond finally permits Harwin to return Luke to his tiny crib and he settles his teeny son back onto his bed as he holds onto his sky blue blankie.

Harwin smiles as he looks down and catches Prince Aemond still staring at little Luke and his son smiles as he catches his uncle's gaze.

"Do you love Luke, Prince Aemond?" Harwin asks.

"Yes!" Prince Aemond immediately gasps out, not even turning away to look at him as he answers, his gaze solely focused on Luke. "I wuv Luke." Harwin chuckles and pats his head.

"I'm glad, Luke loves you too, Prince Aemond," Harwin tells him and Prince Aemond glows so brightly one might think he was trying to imitate the sun. "You know, I think you are Luke's /favorite/ uncle."

Prince Aemond gasps so loudly and slaps his hands over his mouth dramatically before he falls on his butt in complete shock. Then, he slowly turns up to look at Harwin with wide eyes. "...favorite?"

"Yes!" Harwin laughs. "You are Luke's favorite, Prince Aemond."

"Favorite," Prince Aemond repeats and slowly looks over back at Luke and grins. "Favorite. Yes, I'm Luke's favorite! Like you are big sister's favorite!"

Harwin nods, thinking nothing of it. "Exactly, Princess Rhaenyra is my favorite as well."

Prince Aemond claps his hands and laughs like he just discovered something incredible. "Favorite! If I'm Luke's favorite, that means that we are gon' get mawwied!"

Harwin nods again. "Yes! That's exactly-"

And then he stops.

"Wait," He blinks. "Married?"

"Yes! Yes!" Prince Aemond shoots up and grips the bars to Luke's crib before bouncing on his feet. "Mawwied! Luke and I shall be mawwied when we older!"

Harwin is too stunned to stop Prince Aemond from rushing out of the room to inform a Septa of him and his son's future marriage, already planning out where they'll be wed (on Dragonstone, he finds out later) and what Luke will wear (a pretty green emerald dress like the Queen dresses in) and what will be served during the celebratory dinner (lemon cakes, as is little Luke's favorite dessert).

[toomuchracket]

home for christmas (d word matty x reader fluff)

another christmas75 fic! pre-dating, but only just. it'll make sense when you read it lmfao. also i love this pic of matty literally god bless jack antonoff. enjoy <3

practically jamming his knuckle into his eye in an effort to wake himself up, matty slowly drags his suitcase out of the lift. he brightens up a bit when he sees you in the lobby - well, sees your tiny face, looking as sleepy as his own, poking out between the fabric of your beanie and hoodie and floor-length puffer jacket. as he gets closer to you, his heart skips when you smile sweetly at him, and it's all he can do to stop his legs copying it.

he manages to keep his cool, though, plopping down on the sofa next to you and matching your smile. “morning. you feeling a bit chilly, darling?”

“ha ha,” you roll your eyes, deadpan, and matty giggles. “you haven't been anywhere without central heating yet. s'fucking freezing outside.”

“why were you out?”

you lean forward to lift a takeout drinks holder matty hadn't noticed on the coffee table. “to get these.”

“oh. thanks,” matty takes his cup from you, slightly crestfallen. “i thought we were going to go on the coffee run together, though?”

shrugging, your face contorts into a bashful smile that wipes every other thought out of matty's head. “didn't want you to get cold. and i figured you'd be tired after the show last night, so not making you wait for coffee was a good idea. oh, also,” you rifle through your jacket pocket and procure two sugar packets. “there you go.”

“thank you, darling,” matty squeezes your hand as he takes the sugar. “god, you really are freezing. i almost feel bad that you went out in the cold to get this.”

“almost?!” you roll your eyes again, but the smile - that fucking smile, the one that's had matty wrapped around your finger since the day you met - doesn't leave your cold face. “i'm waking you up to come with me next time, for that. you almost feel bad. christ.”

“do it,” matty smirks. “i think i'd be much more agreeable if i woke up to your face, actually.”

he isn’t lying. ever since he had that dream about falling asleep spooning you last month, waking up to a bed without you in it has been dreadful. mornings like these where you're the first person he sees are lovely, of course, but matty thinks he won't truly be happy in the morning unless he wakes up to your face burrowed into his chest and his lips on your head.

judging by the way your eyes and smile both widen almost imperceptibly - he notices, though, of course he does - matty thinks you might actually want that too. and, frankly, he's glad he's sitting down: that realisation would've swiped the legs from under him, otherwise.

your snark back at him is also suggestive of your mutual (!!!) crush. “well, in that case… i might have to request two keys for your hotel rooms on the uk leg. are you agreeable to that?”

fuck me, matty thinks; whether that's an exclamation or a request, he isn't sure. both, probably. he takes a sip of his coffee, then clears his throat and prays his voice doesn't wobble and give him away. “quite.”

“well, we'll see how long that lasts,” you giggle, and matty wishes he could bottle the sound. “given that i've been thinking about taking up running in the new year, and i'll force you to come with me.”

matty snorts. “you won't.”

“too fucking right i will, matty. if i'm doing it, you - as my designated coffee run companion - are too.”

“no, i mean you won't take up running, darling.”

you frown. adorably. “why not?”

“it's just so not you,” matty giggles. “why'd you even want to do it?”

your upper lip snags as you shrug. “just feel like i'm not doing enough cardio at the minute.”

“right,” matty does his best to keep his voice and face neutral despite his stupid fucking horny brain firing off images of you and him doing a different sort of cardio. get it together, healy, you arsehole. “i don't think running's the way to go for you, though, babe.”

“probably,” you ponder. “maybe swimming, instead, then.”

great. now he's thinking about you in a swimsuit, hair soaked and slicked back, water dripping down your body as you exit the pool like a fucking bond girl and make your way over to him and-

christ, what is going on with him today? he needs a distraction. something. anything. aha. “wait a minute. are you drinking an iced coffee?”

“mhmm,” you take a long drink of said coffee, as nonchalantly as matty’s ever seen you.

“but… darling, it's december,” matty splutters. “you can't just have a normal latte?”

“nah. s'too hot.”

“eh?”

you shuffle round to face him, leaning on your arm. “you know how you aren't meant to put freezing hands under hot water to warm them up? it's too shocking to the skin or whatever?”

matty squints. “yeeeeees?”

“well, that. if your drink’s too hot and you're too cold, it's too shocking to your insides.”

“i've genuinely never heard anyone say that before.”

“s'pose i'm one of a kind, then,” you grin.

in a tone far too soft for the conversation, matty replies. “yeah, you are, darling.”

“you're too sweet,” you beam, putting down your coffee and holding a hand out to him.

matty takes it eagerly, eyes widening when his skin makes contact with yours. “and you're like actual ice! jesus, babe,” he reaches for the other hand, holding them both tightly in his own to warm them up. “thank god i'm here.”

you laugh loudly, collapsing into a full fit of the giggles when matty overexaggeratedly blows on your hands to make them even warmer; when the giggles fade into soft hums, you look at him with such tenderness that he almost has to look away. “m'gonna miss hanging out with you every day, you know.”

the words are like a flaming arrow to matty’s heart - the reminder you're going separate ways (albeit temporarily) is piercing, but the revelation of your affection towards him sets every nerve ending in his body alight with joy. “me too, darling. and i can't believe we're not getting on the same flight home today, either. m'gutted. you're the only person who doesn't stress me out on planes.”

you turn your intertwined hands over so you can gently rub the back of matty's with your thumb. “i know. but it just made sense for me not to fly into london - saves me getting an extra train back to my mum's, or driving. speaking of, when are you going up north?”

“christmas eve. driving back down to mine on the 27th.”

“i'm heading back to my flat that day, too,” you nod thoughtfully, then your face brightens. “d'you want to do a coffee run on the 28th, then? i'll get the train up to you. and i'll bring your christmas present.”

the relief that washes over matty's body upon confirming when he'll next see you is so strong it's almost embarrassing. he nods enthusiastically. “as long as you don't mean an actual run, then yeah.”

“thought we'd decided running wasn't for me?”

“oh, that's right. well, in that case,” matty grins. “see you on the 28th, then.”

“fab. and then… you're going to g's at new year, yeah?”

matty nods. “and you're NOT! traitor.”

“oh, shut up. i can't let the girls down, i haven't seen them in months,” you roll your eyes. “but i'll pop down for a bit after i've been out, definitely,” your face turns serious, and you look down at the tiled floor. “um, matty, can i ask you a question? you don't have to tell me, but… i want to ask. just to, like, make sure we're sort of on the same page.”

matty shuffles in his seat to look at you properly, a cocktail of curiosity and apprehension mixing itself in his stomach. “of course, darling. you ok?”

“yeah! i'm fine, i just,” you sigh, and tentatively meet his gaze. “i was wondering if you're taking anyone to the new year's party.”

oh. 

you're asking him if he likes you. like, like likes you.

this is good. no, actually - this is great. possibly even… perfect. because, obviously, he does. he really, really does.

fuck.

matty opens his mouth to talk, but you continue babbling nervously. “i'm sorry if that was out of line, and you don't have to answer at all, like i said, i just wanted to make sure i wasn't misreading the situation but if i am then i'm so sorry and we can just forg-”

“no, no, it's alright, darling, really,” matty says, squeezing your hand. “no lines crossed, no pages jumped, no misreading. i'm not taking anyone to the party, no. just me and a bottle - well, three - of wine.”

you exhale, cheeks lifting into a relieved smile. “ok. good. thank you.”

“s'no problem, darling. and, just to clarify,” matty smiles in return. “are you bringing anybody with you?”

you shake your head. “just me. won't even have any wine. i'll have cigs, though.”

matty giggles, fighting the urge to kick his legs back and forth when you join in too. “well, looks like we'll just have to hang about with each other, then, yeah? can't have a drink and not smoke, no chance.”

you wink. his body feels like it's taking a screenshot. “see you there, then, healy.”