#how can he not when he was the one who wasn’t strong enough or quick enough to save her sister?)

[aspenmissing]

Can i request arcane headcannons with a reader who faints a lot. Maybe the characters already know she has this problem and it shows how they deal with it or maybe they are just finding out and they panic trying to wake her up.

Can you include au!Claggor too please xxx thank youu ❤️

ꜰᴀʟʟɪɴɢ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴠɪᴋ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴄʟᴀɢɢᴏʀ || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ/ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛ || 6551 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ꜰᴀɪɴᴛɪɴɢ, ᴘᴀꜱꜱɪɴɢ ᴏᴜᴛ

ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀ: ʜᴇʟʟᴏᴏᴏᴏᴏᴏ ᴍʏ ᴅᴇᴀʀ! ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴀᴡᴇꜱᴏᴍᴇ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ! ɪ ᴅᴏ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ɪᴛ!! <3 <3

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴄʟᴀɢɢᴏʀ

JAYCE

It was just another day in Piltover, and the bustle of the city carried on around Y/N as she walked alongside Jayce, her hand lightly brushing the cool metal of the nearby walls. Jayce had been explaining the finer points of his latest invention to her, his voice enthusiastic, but she wasn’t quite paying attention. She never really did anymore, not with how often her head would spin.

Y/N had always been prone to fainting. Whether it was the strain of the day’s activities, or sometimes for reasons she couldn’t even explain, she’d find herself losing consciousness without warning. But she’d learned to hide it. A quick rest, a few deep breaths, and she was back on her feet, no one the wiser. It wasn’t ideal, but it was manageable.

Jayce, of course, had no idea. She had kept it hidden, a mere nuisance in her life that she didn’t want to burden anyone with, especially not him. He had enough on his plate already, juggling inventions and his role in the council. So, she kept her quiet little secret, smiling and nodding as they walked.

But today was different.

As Jayce animatedly explained a new energy source he’d been working on, Y/N’s vision blurred. She felt lightheaded, the familiar dizziness creeping up on her. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, trying to steady herself. She could push through this, she told herself, but the feeling only grew worse. Her knees buckled.

Before she knew it, the ground was rushing up to meet her.

Jayce’s voice stopped mid-sentence, and the last thing Y/N felt was his strong hands catching her as she collapsed, her body falling limp against him. Her world went dark.

=

When Y/N came to, the first thing she noticed was the cool air against her skin. She blinked rapidly, trying to focus, and then realized she was lying on the ground, cradled in Jayce’s arms. His face was a mask of concern, his large hands hovering over her as if he didn’t know what to do with them.

“Y/N?” His voice was shaky, and she could hear the panic beneath it. “Y/N, can you hear me? Please… Please wake up.”

Y/N groaned softly, slowly pushing herself up. Her vision swam as she tried to sit up, but her head was spinning. She put a hand to her forehead, trying to steady herself, but she could feel Jayce’s hands supporting her shoulders, his grip gentle but firm.

“What happened?” he asked, his voice tight with worry. “You just... you just fell, and I couldn’t—”

“I’m fine,” Y/N murmured, her voice weak but reassuring. She didn’t want him to panic any more than he already was. “I... I just fainted. It’s nothing.”

Jayce’s eyes widened, and for a moment, he didn’t speak. He stared at her, as if trying to process what she had just said.

“You fainted?” He repeated the words as if he couldn’t believe them. “How long has this been happening? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Y/N bit her lip, looking away. She didn’t want to make it a big deal, didn’t want him to think she was fragile or weak. “I didn’t want to worry you,” she whispered. “It’s... it’s just something that happens. I didn’t want to make a fuss.”

Jayce’s expression softened, but there was still a trace of worry etched into his features. He gently cupped her face with his hand, making her look at him. “Y/N, you’re not a burden. You’re not weak. If you’re feeling like this, you need to tell me. I don’t care how small it seems. I’m here for you.”

The sincerity in his eyes made Y/N’s chest tighten. She nodded, her heart fluttering at the care he was showing her. She hadn’t expected that.

“I’ll... I’ll be more careful,” she murmured, feeling a little embarrassed.

Jayce gave a soft, frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair. “No, I mean it. You’re not going to hide this from me anymore, okay? If you feel faint, you tell me. No excuses.”

Y/N smiled, her face flushing slightly. “Okay, Jayce. I promise.”

Jayce’s expression softened into a small smile, but there was still a lingering concern in his eyes. “Good. Now let’s get you back to my workshop. I think you need a bit of rest, don’t you?”

Y/N nodded, and Jayce helped her up, keeping a careful hand on her back as they walked back towards his lab. She was still a little shaky, but with him by her side, she felt like maybe, just maybe, things would be okay.

=

From that day forward, Jayce kept a watchful eye on her. He never let her walk too far ahead, always making sure she was feeling okay. He would ask her how she was doing in the quiet moments, his voice gentle, not wanting to make her feel like a burden, but also wanting to make sure she was safe.

And Y/N? She learned that it wasn’t weakness to ask for help, especially from someone who truly cared. Jayce had shown her that much, in his own way.

No more secrets. Not with him.

VIKTOR

Viktor’s workshop was always filled with the soft hum of machinery and the occasional buzz of electrical currents. It was his sanctuary, a place where his mind could wander and his inventions could take form. Yet, amidst the steady rhythm of his work, there was a constant presence—Y/N.

You were often there, in the background, moving about with a quiet grace, watching him work or helping when you could. Sometimes, you’d hand him tools or assist in adjusting the flow of energy to one of his creations. But there was one thing Viktor had grown accustomed to: your tendency to faint. It wasn’t that you didn’t try to push through, but something about the energy of his lab seemed to weigh on you. Maybe it was the air, the heat, or simply the weight of the world on your shoulders, but it happened. You fainted, often, and Viktor always knew when it was coming.

It had become a routine, of sorts. The moment you started to sway or your breathing hitched, Viktor’s sharp gaze would flicker to you. His leg brace, though supportive, slowed him down somewhat. But over time he had perfected his response. He kept a cushion near at all times, just under the desk or against a wall. And with that cushion, he was always ready to catch you.

=

This time was no different. You had been standing nearby as Viktor adjusted some of his machinery, your eyes scanning over the intricate designs on his desk. The workshop was quiet, save for the occasional clinking of metal and the soft whirring of devices. You smiled at him occasionally as he worked, your mind a million miles away, lost in thought. But suddenly, a wave of dizziness swept over you, your vision blurring slightly. It wasn’t anything new—just the familiar sensation of the world tilting, your body readying itself for another faint.

Then, it happened. You staggered for just a second, a slight hitch in your breath, before your knees buckled, and you collapsed to the floor.

Viktor was already there, his cane tapping against the floor as he swiftly moved toward you. He caught you effortlessly, his arms steady and practiced as they moved to cradle you. It was as if he had expected it, always anticipating when your body would give out. He eased you gently onto the cushion he’d already placed, his movements slow and deliberate. He didn’t rush—no, he’d done this too many times to be frantic.

With careful precision, Viktor pulled the cushion closer to his workbench, ensuring you were fully supported before draping a soft blanket over your form. His eyes softened as he watched you, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face and tucking it behind your ear. His fingers lingered at the touch, as if memorizing the feel of you—always there, always dependable.

His golden eyes never left you, though the sharp edge of his usual focus softened when it came to you. Viktor had long since learned that the moments you were unconscious were not moments for his machines to take precedence. No, he would always wait for you to wake, to return to him, no matter how long it took.

He let his hands rest at his sides for a moment, though his gaze stayed vigilant, monitoring your every breath. The rhythmic sound of the machines seemed to fade into the background as he shifted his attention fully to you, feeling a strange sense of peace in this quiet, shared moment. It was during these times that Viktor felt the weight of his humanity most—when his machines, his inventions, took a backseat, and he was simply… Viktor. The man who cared for you.

And so, Viktor remained by your side, his cane resting nearby, his eyes never straying far from you. The warmth of the blanket seemed to calm him as well, offering him a sense of reassurance that he hadn’t known he needed. He knew you would wake soon—your feints never lasted long—but until then, he would stay with you, quietly watching over you, as he had so many times before.

=

Time passed, and as expected, your eyelids fluttered. The soft stirrings of consciousness returned to you, the world around you gradually coming back into focus. When your eyes finally opened, the first thing you saw was Viktor’s face, his familiar form bending over you. His expression was soft, yet there was a hint of concern that he couldn’t quite mask. His golden eyes seemed brighter, more attentive, as they locked onto yours.

“Again, Y/N,” he said, his voice low and comforting, though there was a faint edge of teasing in his tone. “You really must stop doing this to me.”

You blinked, still slightly disoriented, before you managed a weak smile. The blanket still curled around your body, its warmth bringing a sense of comfort to your frail state. There was something soothing about being near him—his quiet vigilance, the steady presence he gave. Viktor’s care was something you had come to rely on, even if it was a reminder of how often you found yourself on the floor of his workshop.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”

Viktor let out a quiet sigh, his hand reaching for your face. He brushed the hair from your forehead again, his touch gentle but deliberate. “You need to take better care of yourself,” he said, his gaze softening as he looked down at you. There was no anger in his voice—only an unspoken sense of protectiveness. "You push yourself too hard.”

You sighed, your body still weak from the sudden collapse. “I know... I’ll try to take it easy.”

Viktor helped you sit up a little, adjusting the cushion beneath you for support. His eyes never left you, watching you as though his every thought was focused on making sure you were okay. You could feel the weight of his attention, but there was no discomfort in it. In fact, it was oddly comforting, as though you were the only thing in the world that mattered to him at that moment.

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice hoarse as you met his gaze.

Viktor smiled faintly, brushing a few more strands of hair behind your ear as his golden eyes softened further. “Always, Y/N,” he said with quiet certainty, the words almost a vow. “Always.”

JAYVIK

Viktor, his cane tapping rhythmically against the cobblestone streets of Piltover, walked with Jayce beside him, deep in conversation. The evening air was cool, and the flickering lamplights cast long shadows down the path they were taking, reflecting the bustle of the city. The towering buildings, once grand symbols of innovation, now seemed to fade into the backdrop of Viktor’s thoughts. His mind was often occupied with ideas and plans, but today, something felt different, something just beyond reach.

Y/N, walking slightly ahead of them, felt the familiar wave of dizziness sweep over her. She had been struggling with her health for a while now, and though she usually kept it hidden, it was becoming harder to manage. It wasn't as though she liked to worry anyone—it was just easier to keep it to herself. But as the symptoms persisted, it was becoming more difficult to ignore. Today was one of those days when everything felt heavier, when every step seemed like an effort. She could feel the weight of the world pressing against her, her heart pounding in her chest. Yet, she didn’t want to admit that she couldn’t handle it.

Her vision blurred as the world around her shifted in and out of focus. She reached out instinctively, her fingers grazing Viktor’s coat, hoping for something to latch onto. His figure, though reassuring in its steady presence, seemed distant now. Before she could steady herself, the darkness overcame her. Her knees buckled completely, and her body went limp.

Jayce, ever the alert one, reacted immediately, but his usual calmness faltered. His strong arm shot out, catching her just in time before she could collapse to the ground. “Y/N?” he called, his voice filled with panic. His breath quickened as he looked down at her limp form, his heart racing. The confidence that usually defined him was replaced by something entirely unfamiliar—anxiety.

He carefully cradled her in his arms, shaking her lightly, hoping for some sign that she was okay. His hand grazed her cheek, but she didn’t respond. She was completely unresponsive, her face unnaturally pale, and her breath shallow.

Viktor, sensing the shift in the air, stopped mid-step. His cane clicked against the cobblestone as he turned, his sharp gaze immediately assessing the situation. He wasn’t surprised by the sight of Y/N unconscious, but the sudden urgency in Jayce’s movements caught his attention. Viktor took a few calm steps toward the pair, his usual composed self in stark contrast to Jayce's nervous energy.

“What happened?” Viktor asked, his voice steady, betraying no sense of panic as his gaze flickered from Jayce to Y/N.

Jayce, clearly flustered, looked up at Viktor, his face drawn tight with worry. “She fainted!” he exclaimed, his words hurried. “She didn’t even warn us she was feeling unwell… She—she didn’t wake up when I shook her, Viktor!”

Viktor’s eyes narrowed as he observed the situation with precision. He noted Y/N’s shallow breathing, her cold skin, the absence of any movement. “Calm down, Jayce,” he said, his voice low but firm. “She’s unconscious, not dead. We need to take her somewhere safe, immediately.”

Jayce's chest rose and fell rapidly with each breath, his panic not yet abated. “I know, I know! But I don’t—she’s burning up. What if—”

“Jayce,” Viktor interjected, cutting through the rising panic in his friend’s voice. “We need to move her. She’ll be fine. We need to get her to her apartment, get her lying down, and keep her comfortable. There’s no need for further panic.”

Jayce swallowed hard, his hands trembling slightly as he adjusted his hold on Y/N. He was still worried, his mind racing with worst-case scenarios, but Viktor’s calm voice seemed to anchor him, if only a little. “I just—she never told us about this. Why didn’t she say something?”

Viktor’s gaze softened as he watched Jayce, understanding his concern, but his expression remained measured. “She didn’t want to worry us,” Viktor said quietly. “It’s not the first time this has happened, I suspect. She’s been hiding it from us for some time.”

Jayce’s frustration was evident in his tight jaw and the way his brow furrowed. “I should’ve noticed sooner,” he muttered, more to himself than to Viktor. “She never should have felt like she had to hide it.”

Viktor placed a steadying hand on Jayce’s shoulder. “You can’t blame yourself for something she chose to keep hidden. What matters now is that we get her the help she needs.”

With a deep breath, Jayce nodded, trying to push aside his panic. He carefully scooped Y/N into his arms, holding her close. Despite his unease, there was a tenderness in the way he carried her—an urgency to get her somewhere safe, but also a softness in his touch.

Viktor moved forward, his pace calm and deliberate. “We’ll get her home,” he said, his voice steady, “and we’ll figure this out. Just focus on getting her comfortable, Jayce.”

Jayce nodded, grateful for Viktor’s level-headedness. As they walked through the streets of Piltover, neither of them spoke much. Viktor remained the calm, guiding presence, while Jayce, though quieter now, couldn’t shake the worry gnawing at him.

=

They finally arrived at Y/N’s apartment, and Jayce was careful not to jostle her too much as he laid her down on the couch. Viktor moved with purpose, grabbing a damp cloth to lay across Y/N’s forehead, while Jayce hovered near her, keeping a watchful eye.

As they worked to make her comfortable, the weight of the situation slowly began to settle in. Viktor, though outwardly calm, was already thinking through every possibility for her recovery. Jayce, still on edge, could only focus on making sure she woke up.

Even as the minutes ticked by, Jayce’s mind continued to race, but Viktor’s steady presence—his calm assurance that everything would be alright—slowly began to quell the panic that had taken root in his chest. It was, perhaps, a reminder that not everything needed to be fixed immediately. Sometimes, the most important thing was simply being there.

=

When Y/N finally began to stir, she felt warmth and comfort, but her surroundings felt unfamiliar. The soft fabric beneath her suggested she wasn’t outside anymore. Her eyes fluttered open to find herself in her apartment. The air smelled faintly of lavender and freshly brewed tea. Her head felt heavy, and a faint headache pulsed behind her eyes.

She blinked a few times, trying to adjust to the dim lighting. Her gaze fell first to the wet towel placed gently on her forehead, the cool fabric soothing her burning skin. The memory of what happened—fainting, the dizziness—flashed in fragments through her mind, but it was hard to piece it all together.

When she tried to sit up, a gentle hand stopped her. Jayce’s voice, low and comforting, cut through the haze. “Don’t sit up too quickly,” he warned. “You passed out. We brought you back here to rest.”

Y/N turned her head to find Jayce sitting beside her on the couch, his expression a mix of relief and lingering concern. Viktor stood by the window, watching over them with his usual stoic demeanour, but even he couldn’t hide the worry in his eyes.

“Jayce?” Y/N’s voice was raspy, barely a whisper, and she winced as she tried to speak louder. “What happened?”

“You fainted,” Jayce explained softly, his thumb brushing over her hand. “You didn’t tell us you were feeling unwell, and then you collapsed. We rushed you back here to rest.”

Viktor, his cane tapping lightly against the floor as he walked over to join them, studied her closely. “This has been happening for some time, hasn’t it, Y/N?” he asked, his voice gentle yet firm. “You can’t keep hiding it from us.”

Y/N’s gaze flickered between the two men. She wanted to apologize, to explain, but the words seemed to catch in her throat. She hadn’t meant for them to see, for them to worry about her. But as she looked at them now—standing side by side, their faces showing both concern and a silent promise to help—she realized that she didn’t have to carry this alone anymore.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. “I didn’t want to worry you both.”

Jayce gave her a reassuring smile, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Don’t apologize. We’re here for you, Y/N. You’re not alone in this.”

Viktor nodded in agreement, his gaze steady but warm. “We’ll find a solution, Y/N. You’re safe now. We’ll make sure this doesn’t go unnoticed again.”

Y/N closed her eyes, feeling the weight of their words settle in her heart. Maybe, just maybe, she didn’t have to face the darkness alone.

VANDER

The kids were bustling around the small apartment above the Last Drop, the usual mix of laughter, bickering, and the occasional loud noise filling the space. Vi was practicing some moves in the corner, her fists quick and sharp, while Powder was busy playing with her assortment of trinkets, trying to build something from scrap metal. Mylo was sprawled out on the couch, half-heartedly watching the others, while Claggor sat by the window, lost in thought.

Y/N was in the kitchen, making dinner for the kids. She was focused on the task at hand, chopping vegetables and stirring pots with practiced ease. She had grown accustomed to the chaos in the apartment, even if it often made her head spin. She tried to ignore the faint dizziness she had been feeling all day, pushing through it for the sake of the kids and Vander. But today, her body wasn’t cooperating.

A sudden wave of lightheadedness hit her, and her legs buckled beneath her. She reached out for the counter to steady herself, but the world was spinning too quickly. Before she could even react, she collapsed, knocking several pans off the stove in a loud crash. The clattering noise was enough to get the attention of the kids, who immediately stopped what they were doing and rushed toward the kitchen.

"Y/N?" Vi called out, her voice filled with concern as she quickly ran to the kitchen. Claggor was right behind her, his face etched with worry.

"Y/N!" Mylo shouted, but his voice held a strange mix of worry and confusion as he stood frozen in place, staring at the woman who had always been strong and composed.

Powder, who had been quietly playing with a little stuffed animal, dropped it and sprinted into the kitchen. Her wide eyes filled with panic. “Y/N?!” she cried, her voice trembling as she crouched beside the unconscious woman.

Y/N’s face was pale, her body limp, and the sound of her breath was faint. The kids gathered around her, unsure of what to do. Claggor immediately dropped to his knees, gently lifting Y/N’s head to check for any sign of life.

“She’s breathing,” Claggor muttered, though his voice was shaky. He looked at Vi, panic in his eyes. “What do we do?”

Vi crouched down beside him, her usual tough exterior replaced with genuine worry. “She’s fine, right? She’s just… fainted?” She swallowed hard, glancing over at Powder, who had tears in her eyes, her lip quivering in fear.

“Is she going to be alright?” Powder whispered, clutching her stuffed animal tightly. “I don’t like seeing her like this.”

Vi gently placed a hand on Powder’s shoulder, trying to offer reassurance, though she wasn’t sure if she believed it herself.

Just then, Claggor glanced up, his face going pale. “We need to get Vander. Now.”

Vi nodded, her expression serious. “I’ll go.”

=

While Claggor stayed by Y/N’s side, trying to keep her comfortable, Vi rushed down the stairs toward the bar. She burst through the door, her eyes scanning the room for Vander, who was talking with a couple of customers. When he noticed her sudden appearance, his face went hard with concern.

“What happened?” Vander asked, his voice low but full of urgency.

“It’s Y/N,” Vi said quickly, her breath coming in short bursts. “She fainted. It’s bad, Vander. We need you.”

Vander’s face darkened. Without another word, he turned and followed Vi back up the stairs, his worry increasing with every step. By the time they reached the apartment, the kids were standing around Y/N, who still hadn’t regained consciousness.

Vander rushed to her side, kneeling next to Claggor. He gently lifted Y/N’s head, brushing the hair from her face with tenderness. His brow furrowed as he checked her pulse, his hand steady despite the rising panic in his chest.

“She just fainted,” Vander muttered, his voice calming but firm as he glanced up at the kids. He didn’t want to alarm them, but they could see the concern in his eyes. “It happens sometimes. She just gets weak. It’ll pass.”

Claggor’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Is this… normal?”

Vander sighed, his gaze softening as he stroked Y/N’s hair. “It happens. She doesn’t like to talk about it, but it’s been going on for a while. Sometimes her body just gives out. It’s nothing to be scared of, but we need to make sure she rests.”

“But… why doesn’t she tell us?” Mylo asked quietly, his usual playful attitude gone. His face was full of concern, and his voice trembled slightly.

Vander glanced at the kids, his expression softening. “She doesn’t want to worry you all. She’s tough, but sometimes her body can’t keep up with her. You’re all important to her, and she doesn’t want you to see her like this.”

Powder sniffled, wiping her tears away. “I don’t want her to get hurt.”

“I know, kiddo,” Vander said, his voice gentle as he stood up. He turned to Vi, Claggor, and Mylo, giving them a small, reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, Y/N’s going to be okay. Just make sure she stays calm. We’ll help her through this, just like we always do.”

Claggor nodded, the concern still evident on his face, but a hint of relief started to seep in as Vander spoke. Vi moved to stand beside Vander, her arms crossed, but her stance relaxed. She wasn’t sure how to help, but she knew one thing for certain: they were a family, and they would take care of Y/N.

=

As Vander gently helped Y/N sit up, her eyes fluttered open. She blinked up at him, a soft groan escaping her lips. “Did I… did I faint again?” she asked, her voice weak but laced with embarrassment.

Vander smiled down at her, brushing her hair back. “You did, but it’s okay. We’ve got you. Just rest now.”

The kids watched, some of them still a little nervous, but they were relieved to see Y/N was slowly coming back to herself. Even Mylo, who was always quick to crack a joke, didn’t say a word. He just stood quietly, taking in the moment.

“Let us help, Y/N,” Vi said softly, stepping forward. “You don’t have to do everything alone.”

Y/N smiled faintly, her heart swelling with gratitude. “Thanks, Vi.”

The kids didn’t hesitate to offer their help. Claggor began cleaning up the mess in the kitchen, and Mylo handed Y/N a glass of water. Powder, still holding her stuffed animal, climbed into a chair next to her and held her hand.

Vander remained close, standing guard, as he always did. They were a family, bound together not just by blood, but by the quiet moments of care and understanding.

And as the night continued, Vander made sure to keep a closer eye on Y/N, but there was no need to worry. The kids were there for her now, just as she had always been there for them. Family meant taking care of each other, through the good and the bad. And they would always be there for Y/N—no matter what.

SILCO

Silco sat at his desk, his eyes scanning the documents laid out in front of him, the weight of his thoughts and the city ever-present in the back of his mind. The sounds of the bustling underground seemed distant as he focused on the task at hand. There was something soothing about the quiet of his office, the dim light casting long shadows against the stone walls. The space, cold and imposing to most, felt like a sanctuary for him—if only for brief moments.

The sudden sound of a faint thud broke the silence, a soft but distinct noise that caused Silco to look up, his sharp gaze sweeping the room. His eyes narrowed slightly as he listened for any other sounds, but there was only silence in the air—heavy and still.

And then he saw her.

Y/N lay crumpled on the floor, her body slack and lifeless as though the weight of the world had suddenly become too much for her. Her chest rose and fell in shallow breaths, the only indicator that she was still alive, but the rest of her was a lifeless heap of pale limbs. She had fainted again.

Silco let out a deep, tired sigh, his lips pulling into a frown. This wasn’t the first time. No, not by far. He’d lost count of the number of times she’d collapsed like this, her condition causing her to faint when she pushed herself too hard. He knew the cause well—some fragile weakness in her system, a condition she had never fully explained, only that it was something she had learned to live with. But he didn’t need to know the details. What mattered was that she never seemed to heed his warnings. No matter how many times he told her to rest, to take it easy, she continued to push herself too far.

His frustration flared momentarily, but it was immediately tempered by a deep, almost protective concern. He had always admired her determination, her fire, her unyielding will to keep moving forward, no matter the toll it took on her body. But with that came the inevitable consequences—the times when she would push beyond her limits and fall prey to her body’s refusal to cooperate.

Silco stood up from his desk with a quiet, measured movement, his boots clicking lightly against the stone floor. His gaze softened as he approached her. He crouched down next to Y/N, his eyes tracing her features for any sign of distress, his hand reaching out to brush a few strands of hair from her forehead. His fingers lingered for a moment longer than necessary, a brief touch that he would never allow anyone to notice.

"Y/N," he muttered in a voice thick with both exhaustion and tenderness. "How many times do I have to tell you to slow down?"

He knew she would never listen. She never did. But it didn’t stop him from wishing, just for a second, that she would take care of herself the way he did.

He gently slid his arms under her, cradling her against him. She was lighter than he expected, as though her body had given up on fighting, leaving her fragile and small in his arms. His jacket, a dark, tailored piece of clothing, draped over her shoulders like a blanket, offering her some small comfort as he carried her across the room.

Laying her down on the couch, he adjusted the jacket so that it covered her completely, his fingers smoothing the fabric down. He gazed at her for a moment, watching the faint rise and fall of her chest, the only sign that she was still with him. His expression softened, a rare flicker of something tender crossing his features.

Silco wasn’t someone who allowed much softness in his life. In fact, most of the time, he preferred to keep his emotions tightly controlled, hidden beneath layers of authority and calculation. But with Y/N, it was different. With her, it was as if a small piece of his heart—long buried under the weight of ambition and rage—had somehow found a place to rest.

He lingered for just a moment, brushing a hand over her forehead, a soft sigh escaping him. The condition was one of the few things he couldn’t control. He could command armies, manipulate those around him, and even bend the very city to his will. But Y/N’s body? That was something beyond his reach. And for reasons he couldn’t fully articulate, it bothered him more than he cared to admit.

=

After a moment, he straightened and returned to his desk, the familiar weight of responsibility tugging at him. The paperwork awaited, as did the demands of his position. But even as he picked up the nearest document, his thoughts were constantly on her. Every so often, his gaze drifted toward the couch, ensuring that she remained resting, that she was still safe.

He couldn’t help but wonder if she even knew how much she mattered to him. How often he found himself watching her from the corner of his eye, how often his thoughts wandered back to her, to her well-being, to the quiet moments when he let his guard down, even just a little. But he would never say such things aloud. He couldn’t. There was too much at stake, too much riding on the image he had carefully crafted.

Still, the quiet, rhythmic sound of her breathing in the corner of his office was all the reassurance he needed. For a moment, just a brief moment, Silco allowed himself the luxury of caring about nothing else but her.

And in the stillness of the room, as the hours passed and the papers piled higher, he made a silent promise to himself: He would always be there, in the shadows, watching over her—whether she liked it or not.

CLAGGOR (AU)

Claggor had always been protective of Y/N, though he wasn’t always the most observant. His heart raced whenever she smiled, the way she looked at him with those bright eyes making everything seem a little less chaotic. They spent countless hours together, often in the quieter corners of Piltover, away from the hustle and bustle of their daily lives. There, it was just the two of them, and everything felt perfect.

Y/N, on the other hand, always tried to keep her little secret hidden from Claggor. She had a tendency to faint—sometimes when she was overwhelmed, sometimes when she stood up too quickly, and other times, it just seemed to happen for no reason at all. She’d always felt embarrassed by it, and Claggor was the last person she wanted to worry.

Today was no different. She had been feeling a little lightheaded, but she brushed it off. Claggor had been telling her all about some new invention he'd stumbled upon, his voice a soothing, melodic hum as he gestured excitedly. His passion was always contagious, and Y/N couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. She knew he cared for her, and it made her heart flutter in ways she couldn’t quite explain.

But then, as he got closer to her, she suddenly felt the room spin. It had been happening a lot more frequently lately. She squeezed her eyes shut, hoping the dizziness would pass, but it didn’t. She was fighting to stay conscious when Claggor, noticing her sudden stillness and the subtle paleness to her face, looked up from his rambling. His brow furrowed in concern.

“Y/N?” His voice was soft, full of worry. “Are you okay?”

Y/N tried to smile, but everything around her felt so far away. She reached out to steady herself on the nearby table, but it was too late. The world tilted once more, and her vision blurred. Then, just as she tried to speak, her knees gave out beneath her.

Claggor's eyes widened in panic as she crumpled to the floor. His body moved on instinct, rushing to her side. His hands, though slightly trembling, carefully cradled her in his arms. His usually calm demeanor faltered, but his mind was quick, piecing everything together in an instant.

“Y/N!” His voice was a mix of panic and urgency. “Please, stay with me.” His fingers pressed gently to her pulse, feeling the faint thrum beneath his fingertips. He’d seen this before in others—weakness, dizziness. He'd just never expected it to happen to her.

He tilted her head back slightly, eyes scanning her face. His mind raced as he remembered snippets from the many medical journals he'd read over the years. This wasn’t an emergency—he knew that much—but it was still serious.

"Y/N?" he repeated softly, brushing a lock of hair from her face. "Can you hear me?"

Y/N's eyelids fluttered open slowly, the world returning in hazy flashes. For a moment, everything felt like a blur, but then she heard his voice, full of concern. She blinked, trying to focus, and slowly realized what had happened.

“I—I’m sorry,” she stammered, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “I didn’t want you to see…”

Claggor's face softened, but his gaze was intense. He could feel the heat rising from her skin, and he quickly checked her temperature, gently placing his hand on her forehead. “You’re fine,” he murmured, though his voice was laced with relief. “You’re just faint. I’ve got you.”

Y/N’s breath hitched as she began to sit up, but Claggor gently guided her back down, keeping his hand on her shoulder. His presence was steady, reassuring. He wasn’t frantic, and that calmed her more than anything.

“You should’ve told me, Y/N,” he said quietly, his fingers running through her hair as he adjusted her position to make her more comfortable. “I’m not going to let this happen again without knowing what's going on.”

Y/N bit her lip, the dizziness still lingering, though she was trying to brush it off. “It’s… It’s nothing, really,” she whispered. “I don’t want to burden you with it…”

Claggor shook his head firmly, his expression softening into something that resembled both understanding and frustration. “It’s not a burden, Y/N. You’re not a burden. If this happens often, you should tell me. I care about you, and I want to take care of you. We can figure out what’s going on, together.”

Y/N met his gaze, her chest tightening as the weight of his words settled over her. She felt guilty for not being open with him earlier, but in the end, his calm and rational presence made her feel safe.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered again, her voice small, barely audible. “I didn’t want you to worry about me…”

Claggor’s hands cupped her face, his thumbs brushing over her cheeks with an expression that showed no hint of frustration, only softness. “Y/N,” he murmured gently, his forehead resting against hers. “You never need to apologize to me for being yourself. Just… let me help. Let me be there for you, okay?”

Tears welled up in Y/N’s eyes as she nodded, her heart swelling with a quiet relief. She wasn’t alone in this, and she realized how much that meant. “I promise I’ll tell you next time,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Claggor smiled, his eyes softening as he pulled her close, pressing his chest against hers. “I’m always here, Y/N,” he said, his voice warm, filled with conviction. “I’m not going anywhere.”

They sat there for a moment in silence, Claggor holding her close, carefully monitoring her breathing and temperature, all while offering her a steady presence. He wasn’t going to let her go through this alone again. Not ever.

And in that moment, Y/N realized that, no matter what happened, Claggor would always be there for her—steady, calm, and unwavering.

[phoenixblaze1412]

So glad to see a Dottore writer! Can I ask for dottore and the segments with a reader who oversleeps a lot? someone who sleeps like 12-14 hours. sleepiest guy ever.

The first time Dottore realized how much you overslept, he assumed it was a one-time occurrence. A simple exhaustion, nothing more. But as time passed, it became glaringly obvious.

You were, without a doubt, the sleepiest person in all of Snezhnaya.

Twelve to fourteen hours of sleep a day? Completely normal for you.

Nodding off mid-experiment? A weekly event.

Disappearing for "just a quick nap" and waking up the next morning? Routine.

Dottore, of course, found it both fascinating and mildly concerning. As a scientist, he initially considered analyzing your sleep patterns, wondering if some neurological anomaly was at play.

But after repeated tests revealed nothing unusual besides an innate talent for sleeping anywhere, anytime. He resigned himself to the reality that you were simply like this. The segments, however, all had their own ways of dealing with your chronic drowsiness.

Alpha: The Most Responsible (and Slightly Annoyed)

Alpha took it upon himself to try and keep you on schedule. Emphasis on try as Theta would say. He’d knock on your door in the mornings with an exasperated sigh, already expecting no response.

“Wake up. It’s nearly noon.”

Silence.

Alpha knocked again, harder. “I’m not asking.”

Still nothing.

By the third attempt, he simply resorted to dragging your blanket off the bed, knowing it was the only thing that might stir you.

It didn’t.

Sighing, he pinched the bridge of his nose before calling for the others. “We need backup.”

Theta: The Chaos Enabler

Theta found your sleepiness hilarious. Unlike Alpha, he wasn’t interested in fixing your sleep schedule—he was interested in seeing just how deep your slumber truly was.

“How long do you think it’ll take for them to wake up if I draw on their face?” he asked Zeta one morning.

Zeta, ever composed, sighed. “That’s childish.”

Theta grinned. “You’re right. We should stack things on them instead.”

Dottore eventually had to ban “experiments” involving your unconscious body when he walked in to find a precariously balanced tower of books, vials, and a very confused laboratory rat resting on your back while you continued to sleep peacefully.

Zeta: The Quiet Observer

Zeta didn’t interfere much with your sleeping habits, but he did take note of how it affected your well-being. If you had trouble focusing after waking up or if you seemed groggy for too long, he would wordlessly hand you a strong cup of tea and remind you to pace yourself.

“You don’t have to rush,” he’d say whenever you stumbled into the lab, hair still a mess from sleep. “Just be awake enough not to mix volatile chemicals incorrectly.”

That had happened once. Just once. And no one wanted a repeat of it.

Epsilon: The Concerned One

Unlike the others, Epsilon actually worried about your excessive sleeping. “Maybe it’s a deficiency,” he suggested one day. “Or an underlying illness. We should run more tests.”

Dottore hummed in consideration before glancing at you, drooling on your desk in the middle of a meeting. “…Or they could just be lazy.”

Epsilon frowned. “I don’t think laziness explains this level of unconsciousness.”

Dottore chuckled. “No, but watching the others struggle to wake them up is entertaining.”

Dottore: The Only One Who Can Wake You Instantly

Despite all the segments’ attempts, there was only one undeniable fact: when Dottore himself called your name, you woke up immediately.

Whether it was fear, respect, or some kind of Pavlovian response, no one knew.

Theta once tested this theory by mimicking Dottore’s tone and cadence. It failed miserably.

You slept through it.

But the moment the real Dottore leaned over your bed and murmured, “If you don’t wake up in the next ten seconds, I’m increasing your workload,” your eyes snapped open instantly.

Dottore smirked. “Fascinating.”

The others groaned. “That’s not fair.”

[willowcrowned]

it’s actually wildly funny that amethar’s epithet came about because he was the only person in his family not horrifically murdered. imagine if every single one of your relatives got stabbed and from that point on everyone called you “johnny no-stabs." that’s amethar’s life

[satellite-evans]

I'll give you the world

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Summary: choosing a present is hard for someone who has already everything in the world.

Word count: 2.2k+

Warnings: fluff, doubt, making out

A/N:

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, talks, vents, recommendations or just simple questions are always welcome.

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

Dating Lando was still something you were getting used to. It wasn’t about the fame, the racing, or the cameras—it was about him. The way he drummed his fingers against the steering wheel absentmindedly, lost in thought. The way his laugh bubbled up uncontrollably when he found something truly funny, head thrown back, eyes crinkling at the corners. The way he always pulled you closer, fingers tightening around your wrist, whenever he thought you were about to leave, as if to silently say, stay just a little longer.

It was in the quiet moments that you loved him most. The sleepy murmurs in the morning before either of you were fully awake. The way he’d unconsciously reach for you in his sleep, tugging you closer as if you were his anchor. The way he always made sure to send a quick text me when you’re home after a night out, even if he was halfway across the world.

But when his birthday approached, you found yourself at a loss.

What do you buy someone who already has everything?

You ran through the usual ideas: car accessories, watches, sneakers. But nothing felt right. Either it was too extravagant or too impersonal, and the pressure to make it meaningful had you second-guessing everything. He wasn’t the kind of person who cared about material things—sure, he had the best of the best, but the things he truly cherished were the little things, the moments, the memories.

"What do I even do?" you groaned to your best friend over the phone, flopping onto your bed in frustration. "He can buy whatever he wants. How am I supposed to surprise him?"

Your friend hummed in thought. "Maybe think of it differently. What’s something he wouldn’t buy for himself? Something sentimental?"

That question lingered in your mind long after the call ended.

You thought about Lando—not the racing driver, but the man behind the fame. The one who fell asleep halfway through movies, only to deny it with a sleepy grin when you called him out. The one who made the worst dad jokes just to see you roll your eyes, only to laugh harder when you fought back a smile. The one who still had a tattered old karting helmet on display in his gaming room, not because it was valuable, but because it was his first. Because it meant something.

And then, finally, an idea struck.

On the night of his birthday, you stood outside his place, a carefully wrapped box in one hand and a homemade cake in the other, nerves twisting in your stomach like tangled ribbons. The cool night air nipped at your skin, but it wasn’t the cold that had your heart racing—it was the anticipation, the wondering if this little surprise would be enough. The gift wasn’t extravagant or flashy, but it was thoughtful, personal. At least, that was the hope.

Before you could let doubt creep in, the door swung open, revealing Lando, his signature grin lighting up the dimly lit doorway. His curls were still slightly damp from a shower, a cozy hoodie hanging loosely over his frame. He looked like he’d been waiting all night just for you.

“There you are,” he said, voice warm and easy, like he hadn’t just made your heart lurch in your chest. Without hesitation, he pulled you into a tight hug, the kind that made the rest of the world blur into the background. His arms were strong around you, his chin resting briefly against your temple before he pressed a quick, affectionate kiss there. The scent of fresh laundry and that familiar cologne he always wore wrapped around you, comforting in a way that made your nerves settle—just a little.

“You’re freezing,” he murmured, running his hands up and down your arms in an attempt to warm you up. “Come in, love, before you turn into an icicle.”

Stepping inside, you were immediately enveloped in warmth, the contrast making you realize just how cold you’d been. The air smelled sweet—vanilla, cinnamon, and a hint of chocolate. It wasn’t overwhelming, just subtle enough to feel like home.

Your gaze flickered to the counter, where you set the cake down carefully. The sugary aroma mingled with the quiet stillness of the space, and that’s when it hit you—there was no loud music, no crowded room filled with friends or flashing cameras. Just him. Just you.

You raised an eyebrow, turning to him with an amused smirk. “Lando Norris, the biggest party animal ever, and you didn’t want a massive party? I don’t believe it.”

Lando chuckled, shoving his hands into the pocket of his hoodie. “Didn’t feel like it this year,” he admitted with a little shrug. His voice softened as he added, “Just wanted you.”

Your stomach did a ridiculous little flip at that, warmth blooming across your chest. He said it so easily, so matter-of-factly, like there had never been another option. Like he couldn’t imagine spending the night with anyone else.

Trying to shake off the way your heart was stuttering, you quickly gestured toward the cake. “Well, you’re still getting cake,” you announced, pulling the box open. “And I’m singing to you whether you like it or not.”

Lando groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Please, no.”

“Too late,” you said with a wicked grin, striking an exaggerated pose before lighting the candles. Taking in a deep breath, you launched into the most dramatic, horrifically off-key rendition of Happy Birthday that had ever been performed.

“Happy biiirthdaay to youuu, happy biiirthdaay to youuu,” you dragged out the notes, watching as Lando pressed his lips together, trying—and failing—not to laugh. By the time you reached the grand finale, he had his face buried in his hands, shoulders shaking with laughter.

“Happy birthday, dear Lan-dooo, happy birthday to you!”

Lando clapped slowly, his eyes bright with amusement. “That was painful.”

“Excuse you,” you huffed, crossing your arms. “That was a performance, thank you very much. A labor of love.”

“A labor of something, that’s for sure,” he teased, dodging the half-hearted swat you sent his way.

Rolling your eyes, you grabbed a knife and carefully cut two generous slices, handing one to him before picking up your own fork. “Whatever. The cake will make up for it.”

Lando took a bite, eyes widening slightly before he let out a satisfied hum. “Okay, fine,” he admitted, mouth half-full. “Maybe you are forgiven.”

“Damn right, I am.”

"You never told me you could bake." Lando said, whilst he was still eagerly eating his birthday cake.

You shrugged, feeling oddly pleased. "I don’t do it often. But special occasions call for special effort."

He grinned, reaching over to swipe a bit of frosting onto his finger before tapping it against the tip of your nose. "Well, consider me impressed."

The two of you lingered at the counter, taking your time with the cake, stealing bites from each other’s plates in between soft laughter. It became a game—Lando would pretend to be too distracted to notice you sneaking a bite of his, only to turn at the last second and catch you in the act. The mock scandal in his expression, the dramatic gasp, the way he’d immediately retaliate by swiping frosting from your plate—it all had you grinning so hard your cheeks hurt.

“Unbelievable,” he muttered after you successfully managed to get a forkful of his cake for the third time. “This is my birthday, and you’re the one getting extra cake?”

You licked a bit of frosting off your thumb, feigning innocence. “I can’t help it. Yours just tastes better.”

Lando narrowed his eyes at you, clearly unconvinced, before dipping his finger into a dollop of frosting and swiping it across the tip of your nose.

You gasped, mouth dropping open. “Lando!”

“Oops,” he said, entirely unapologetic, leaning back against the counter with a shit-eating grin. “Bit of an accident, that.”

“An accident?” You scoffed, wiping at your nose, but before you could retaliate, he ducked away with a laugh, already bracing for your revenge.

The playful moment settled into something softer, quieter, as the two of you finished off the last bites, licking stray bits of frosting off your fingers.

And then, finally, it was time for the present.

You wiped your hands on a napkin, nerves creeping back in as you reached into your bag. The laughter faded into something more expectant, your heart thudding a little too fast as you pulled out the carefully wrapped box. You hesitated for just a second, your fingers tightening around it, before pushing it toward him across the counter.

Lando’s brows lifted, his ever-present smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. That look—the one that always made your stomach flip. “You’re nervous.”

“A little,” you admitted, twisting your fingers in your lap. “Just open it.”

To your relief, he didn’t tease you further. Instead, he gave you one last amused glance before turning his attention to the box, carefully peeling back the wrapping paper. His movements were unhurried, precise—the way he always was with things that mattered. The sound of the crinkling paper filled the quiet space, stretching the moment, making your stomach twist with anticipation.

And then, finally, he lifted the lid.

For a second, he didn’t move. His blue eyes locked onto the object inside, his expression flickering through a range of emotions—curiosity, intrigue, and then, something that looked almost like wonder.

A levitating globe.

The sleek black stand seemed to disappear beneath it, letting the illuminated sphere hover weightlessly in midair. The dim glow from the continents reflected in his wide eyes as he reached out, his fingers hovering just above its surface before finally brushing against it.

“It’s just…” He trailed off, watching as the globe spun effortlessly beneath his touch. A soft, breathless laugh escaped him. “How is this even—? It’s floating.”

Your own nervous laugh bubbled up. “I figured… what do you get the guy who already has everything? You give him the world.” You paused, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “Well, a tiny floating version of it.”

Lando’s head snapped up, his gaze meeting yours, and for a moment, he just looked at you. His lips parted slightly, like he had something to say but wasn’t sure how to say it.

And then, the biggest smile broke across his face—one of those wide, dimpled grins that made your heart stumble over itself.

“You’re unbelievable.” His voice was softer now, like he couldn’t quite believe you were real.

You tilted your head, feigning nonchalance. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

His fingers spun the globe one last time before reaching for your hand, his grip warm and firm. “A very, very good thing.”

Your stomach flipped at the softness in his voice, at the way he was looking at you like you had somehow just handed him something priceless.

“You really like it?” you asked, still a little uncertain.

Lando glanced back at the globe, watching the continents blur together, before shaking his head slightly, like he couldn’t wrap his head around it. “I don’t just like it.” His gaze flicked back to you, full of something deep and unreadable. “This is one of the coolest things anyone’s ever given me. Seriously.”

The relief that washed over you was instant, but before you could say anything—before you could even process how happy he looked—he was already closing the distance between you.

His lips met yours in a kiss that started soft, slow, but quickly deepened. One of his hands tangled in your hair, tilting your head just the way he liked, while the other slid around your waist, pulling you flush against him. He was warm—so warm—and you could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest as he kissed you with quiet urgency.

His lips tasted like frosting and something undeniably him, and you sighed against his mouth, your fingers gripping onto his sweater for support.

Lando made a sound in response, low and satisfied, his grip tightening as he angled the kiss deeper. His thumb traced slow, teasing circles against your hip, and heat coiled low in your stomach, a shiver running down your spine.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, his breath was warm against your lips. His voice was rougher, lower when he murmured, “Best birthday ever.”

You let out a small, breathless laugh, your fingers still curled into the fabric of his sweater. “You sure it’s not just because of the kiss?”

His grin was slow, utterly shameless. “That definitely helped.”

You rolled your eyes, nudging him playfully, but before you could pull away, he caught your wrist, his grip gentle but firm.

His thumb brushed across your knuckles before he tugged you closer again, this time pressing a lingering, unhurried kiss to your lips—slower, softer, like he had all the time in the world.

And maybe, just maybe, he did.

Because right now, in this quiet little moment, there was nothing else. No distractions, no pressure, no expectations. Just the two of you.

And all those nerves, all the overthinking, melted away.

Because maybe Lando didn’t actually need the world.

Maybe, he just needed you.

[sturnmeovr]

♡‧₊˚ Neighbor!Matt x Brat!Reader - No Sex in the Elevator

MDNI - 18+, long ass word count, strong language, p in v, unprotected sex, public sex, elevator sex, oral m receiving, face fucking, squirting, daddy kink, praise kink? walk run of shame

The day was cold and dreary, gloomy clouds took over the sky, making your afternoon drag on. Recently you had been getting out of the house more; avoiding your upstairs neighbor at all costs was a newfound mission for you. You feared that your one-night stand – resulting in Matt placing an order on Instacart for a plan B and half a gallon of orange juice the next morning before he nonchalantly slipped out your front door – would cause an awkward encounter the next time you spoke to him. It was something you didn’t want to go through, so you ran from it, and you were pretty damn good at running from any problem that was bound to confront you — unless you had alcohol in your system, it was a different story then.

“Stairs are out of order, Sweetie,” the building maintenance man pulls you from your daydreams as you walk through the entrance of your apartment building. The potent smell of wet paint wafts over you, your nose crinkles as the smell makes its way to pierce your brain, leaving you lightheaded and gripping the banister to keep you from falling out.

The building you lived in was old and ancient, taking the elevator was something you dreaded doing. In fact, you hadn’t stepped one foot on it the whole time you had lived in your building. The old, creaky staircases were enough to convince the place was haunted, riding in a barely functioning elevator was the last thing you wanted to add to your shitty day. A huff leaves your lungs, and you pull your sweet seductive charm from the bottom of your gut, as much as you didn’t want to, “I can’t just slide past you?” a few bats of your lashes were sure to get the old geezer to compromise to your wishes, “promise I’ll be real quick.” 

You knew any man was quick to crack under pressure when it came to your convincing demeanor, “just be —,” his words come to a halt, a familiar voice that always leaves a pit in your stomach speaks up, “since you’re letting her up that means I can sneak past too, right?” There was no need to spin on your heels to look the person in the eyes, you knew exactly who the deep, husky voice belonged to — your upstairs neighbor, Matt. 

Squeezing your eyes shut as the maintenance man stutters over his words, “no can do, you and little lady r’gonna have to take the elevator.” The best way you could describe it; he sounded like a man who got caught red handed flirting with a young check out cashier by his wife. It was pathetic. You push out another breath, rolling your eyes as you cross your arms over your chest and make your way to the prehistoric elevator. Seriously, it looked like it was one of the first ones invented.

A low chuckle echoes off the hallway walls, making you increasingly more irritated as you jam the button repeatedly, wanting to summon the elevator to your floor so you could end this nightmare as soon as possible. No matter how much he got under your skin, his presence made a gooey arousal form in your panties each time he was near you; almost like your pussy sensed when he was close. She couldn’t resist him if your lives depended on it. It was hard to believe a guy you knew nothing about – other than his habit of late-night video gaming and how big his dick was – had this type of effect on you after only sleeping with him one time.

Hooking up with him wasn’t something you wanted to continue, it was dangerous. Any guy you hooked up with never failed to get too comfortable and you’d be damned if you had your obnoxiously sexy upstairs neighbor pounding on your door because you weren’t replying to his texts or calls. You weren’t ready for a relationship, and it seemed like every guy you thought about giving the pussy up to always forced some type of commitment on you. It was better not to get involved with anyone at all, which is one of the reasons why you had been practicing celibacy for the last few months – up until he came along.

The chime of the elevator breaks your gaze that was glued to the door as it slides open, taking a deep breath before stepping on. Anxiety rose in your chest, making your heart thump vigorously, the saliva drying out of your mouth. You gulp down what seems like air as you press the button to the fourth floor. As Matt leans in to press the fifth floor button, his woodsy cologne takes over the air, sending flashbacks of that rainy Saturday night running through your head. You didn’t budge from your spot, instead a smile unknowingly pulls at your lips, “what r’you smiling for, kid?” he asks in a hushed tone. The rawness of his raspy voice makes your eyes gravitate towards him, his icy blue arctics piercing deep into you like they did every time he came across your path. Something about his gaze was so intense, so captivating; it was hypnotizing.

“Nothing,” you mumble, taking a step back and tightening your grip on the railing that outlined the inside of the small, enclosed room. Your breath hitching once the elevator jolts upward, a quiet squeal slips from your lips, making Matt look at you, confusion sunk deep into his expression, “scared?” he asks, a chuckle following quickly behind his question. Your face crunching in irritation once more, “no!” you spit out defensively, “m’not scared – I just don’t like elevators.” You watch as a mischievous smirk makes itself known on his lips, “ahh, I see,” he takes a step back to the middle of the elevator, looking up at the sign that illuminates the number ‘2’, and back at you. “Since you aren’t scared – you wouldn’t care if I do this,” he teases, making one big jump that sends the small, enclosed room rocking.

A gasp escapes from your lungs, “Matt, stop!” you snap, clinging onto the railing for dear life. His laughter bounces off the walls, your jaw clenched tight as you scowl at him, “it’s not funny, Matt! This elevator is old, it can —,” your angelic voice gets interrupted by the elevator jolting to a stop, the lights cutting out abruptly. You push out a panicked squeal before flinging yourself towards Matt's dark silhouette, colliding face first with his chest as you do so. His arms wrap around you in a matter of milliseconds, and he pulls you into his strong build, “shhh – it's okay. Jus’ a lil’ malfunction, yeah?” His voice is soothing if anything, but it doesn’t help much because the thought of never getting out of the cramped space hits you like a freight train, the paranoia placing itself deep in your gut. Your chest heaves up and down as you manage to get out staggered breaths, not attempting to form any sentences because you knew it was pointless when you were in a mental state like this. 

Matt’s grip tightens around you, rubbing a hand down your back, trying his best to calm you as hot tears stain his t-shirt, “s’gonna be okay – you have to calm down,” his words are as comforting as your favorite goose feather, satin covered pillow you slept with every night. You could tell he was trying his hardest to pull you out of your panic. You had to give him credit for trying, most men would be trying to pry the elevator doors open by now. You struggle over your own sobs, managing to get a few words out, “I ca – can’t. I can’t.” In a way, you were relieved it was pitch dark, he wouldn’t be able to see the fugly facial expression your face unwillingly made when you cried, and that saved you a lot of embarrassment.

“Yes, you can, Y/n. Deep breaths, okay?” he soothes, Matt pulls you from his grip, keeping his hands firm on each side of your shoulders for a few seconds before he does something you expected the very least; he smashes his lips into yours. 

Your lips move in sync against his so passionately; like two lovers who had been parted for a lifetime, like they had been missing each other their whole lives. Matt hands cup the sides of your face, his thumbs collecting your left-over tears as he holds you in place, your hands balling fists into his shirt the whole time. Unbeknownst to you, you hadn't left his mind since that lonely Saturday night when he came knocking on your door in hopes of calling a truce, instead he ended up biting off more than he could chew, having you pinned to your mattress with his cum leaking out of your pussy by the time he was done with you.

Every encounter since, whether it be a small wave when passing in the stairwell or an eye roll when he'd 'coincidentally' get the mail at the same time as you every day. Every interaction always left him struck for words, his heart pounding harder than it ever had over any pinch of attention you'd give him. Lately, he went out of his way just get a reaction from you – hence why he broke the fucking elevator. 

Matt glides his tongue across your bottom lip, pleading for access as his thumbs strokes the sides of your face. You hold out on him for a second, trying to be as teasing as you possibly could, but something about the feeling of his hands on you made you fold too quickly for comfort. You part lips slightly, allowing his tongue to dance with yours. You muffle out a moan as Matt walks you backward, the wall brings your bodies to a standstill, the cold railing prodding into your back.

Static sounds over the elevators intercom, making Matt disentangle himself from you, “Hello, this is New York City Fire Department, is the elevator you’re currently in malfunctioning?” You can feel the warmth of his body radiate off yours as he pulls away, making sure he doesn’t stray too far, “y-yea, we’re stuck,” his voice shaky, but not from what anyone would assume.

He wasn’t shaken up from being stuck in a tight space that felt like it was running out of oxygen, he was overwhelmed from having you this close to him again, his lips on yours like he had been manifesting since the first – and only – passionate sex session the two of you shared. He knew he couldn’t miss the opportunity of having you come undone on his cock one more time. He digs his fingertips into your hips, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses from your ear to your neck, and finally to the exposed cleavage spilling out of your shirt. 

“Excuse me sir,” the lady on the other side of the intercom chimes in, “is the elevator experiencing a power outage?” A groan flees his mouth before he gives your breast a light nip. The sting of his teeth sinking into your skins earns a whimper from you, “Matt — Matt,” you stutter, trying to pull his attention away from your breasts. 

“Y-yeah the lights — the lights are out,” his hands roam your body, spending the most time in the right places until they’re on your shoulders, guiding you down to your knees. Given your prior sexual experience, you loved taking control; seeing a man whimper under your own dominance always did something for you. Matt made you want to throw your celibacy and your dominant habits out the window, you couldn’t deny his touch if a million dollars was on the line. The way he fucked you was like nothing you had ever experienced before, and the best way you could describe coming on his dick was like an outer body experience; like a night out of partying and unknowingly stumbling across your soulmate on the street of New York City. Any time you were with him it felt like a movie, you and him being the main characters of the steamy rom-com. It was ecstasy to you. And him.

You fumble with his belt, tugging on it impatiently until you feel it come loose. The loose end coming back to pop you in the face, earning a hiss from you. The darkness makes you move primarily off touch as you yank his boxers down. You can feel the heat emanating off of his cock as it springs free, “fuckkk,” Matt drags out his words. You wrap a hand around his shaft, making him jump at your touch, too sensitive to the feeling of your ice-cold hands on him.

You give him a few pumps before taking his tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around his most delicate part as you stroke the rest that didn't fit in your mouth, bobbing your head up and down slowly, and coating his cock in your sweet, sticky salvia. A string of soft grunts spill from his mouth each time you take him further down your throat, only giving you motivation to please him more. The operator rudely interrupting over the intercom once more, “Sir, how many occupants are in the elevator with you?” 

“Ju — wait, wait,” he laces his fingers through your hair, gently caressing your temple to let you know he’s talking to you. “Nuht uh,” you mutter, coming back up for air with a popping noise at his tip, and running your plump, kiss swollen lips down his length in a teasing manner. Matt was folding under pressure sooner than you expected. Much like you, he was used to being the dominant partner when it came to sex. He knew what he was doing and what he liked. He recently noticed when it came to you, he found himself being a bit too possessive – if it was up to him, he'd be fucking you until you were sprawled out on the carpeted floor of the elevator, temporarily paralyzed in a puddle of your own juices.

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t pissed that you had been avoiding him after how good he fucked you two weeks ago; he put his all into it, so he was quite shocked, and disappointed, when you didn’t send a simple text the following days. He wanted to put you in your place for all the times you bitched him out at random hours of the day and night for being too loud, for coming in every other weekend too drunk to walk up the stairs or unlock your door, for rejecting him after he fucked into oblivion. Matt knew you needed a man to put you in your place and he intended to do just that. His grip tightening on your hair as he bucks his hips forwards, pushing his cock deep into your mouth.

His actions pull a gag from the back of your throat, his hips slowing their pace as he throws his head back. When you show no reluctance, it only gives him more reason the pick his pace back up, “s'fucking good,” his voice lewd from the mind-spinning pleasure you were gifting him with. Wet squelches slip from the back of your throat, drool dripping from your chin, forming sticky ropes to your breasts that were spilling out of your shirt. Matt continues to fuck himself into your mouth at a steady pace, making sure to keep his grip tight on your hair so you don’t pull away. Your hands place firmly on his thighs as you try your hardest to take his full length.

“Sir?” the lady over the intercom chimes in for the fourth time, at the same time you break free from his grasp, gasping for air. “Fuckk what?!” he spits out at the operator, irritation and dominance weaved around his hoarse voice. 

“How many occupants are in the elevator with you?” she repeats the same question from before. You sit on the floor, attempting to collect yourself as he replies, “jus' me 'n my neighbor,” his tone was shaky and scattered. You’re surprised at how easily he finds you in the dark, snaking a hand around your arm before pulling you to your feet, spinning you around, and pressing you against the railing of the elevator. It was impressive how he didn’t care to ask; no questions – just do it. It was exactly what you looked for needed.

A fervid moan rolls off the tip of your tongue as he pushes your jean mini skirt up, letting it sit loose around your waist. His long fingers smooth over your clothed heat, making a throbbing sensation increase in your cunt, your slick arousal coating his index and middle finger as it seeps through your panties. His voice fiery as he groans out in awe, “already s’wet f’me, babygirl.” You didn’t know if it was his touch or his words, but one of them causes a carnal cry to erupt from your chest, rocking your hips towards him impatiently, “mph — all f’you, daddy.” 

You push the words out in such a pornographic manner, making it impossible for Matt to hold back any longer. The operator's voice comes out muffled thru the intercom, “sorry for the inconvenience, we have the fire department en route to get you out. Please remain calm and don’t panic.” 

Matt digs his fingertips into the lacy fabric that make up your panties, a faint ripping sound fills the room as he yanks them to the side roughly, causing a heaven-like moan to fall from your lips. He runs the tip of his cock along your folds, collecting as much of your juices as he can before lining himself up with your entrance, “ready, baby?” he asks lowly, not giving you time to reply before he thrusts into you with one long stroke. A gasp filled with a mixture of pain and pleasure creeps from the back of your throat, Matt leans forward to press a kiss to your shoulder, burying himself deeper into your pussy. “Fu — fuck, Matt,” you whine, flinging a hand back to push against his stomach. To your dismay, he’s intertwining your fingers in a matter of seconds, using your weight as leverage to catch a certain rhythm, not giving you much time to adjust to his thick size as he continuously plows into your sopping wet cunt. 

You let out a string of soft, submissive moans, he keeps his pace steady, your still fingers laced together while his other hand fists your jean skirt that pooled at your waist, “M — att, Matt, Matt,” you chant out in a lascivious mantra. The feeling of his long, girthy cock teasing your cervix each time he thrusts in and out of your wetness has you ready to come undone at any given moment. It amazed you how well he could manipulate your body when he was barely acquainted with your mind. He fucked you like he knew your body, like he had studied for years. 

You fall forwards once Matt unlocks his death grip on your hand, using the elevators railing for more support as he bucks his hips against you. His strong grip making its way around your neck, he gives it a light squeeze as his own way of signaling you to lean back against him. You do just that, letting your small figure melt into his tall build. His opposite hand slowly inches down your stomach until it's placed between your thighs, teasing circles around your sensitive bundle of nerves, earning soft whimpers from you, “what’s my name, baby?” his voice is dark and raspy like before, salacious if you could describe it. It only made you want to hear more. Arching your back against his frontside and bringing a hand up to lace through his hair, you tell him exactly what he wants to hear, “da — daddy,” you stamper over the moans refusing to let you form full sentences or even get a complete word out. 

The magic title triggers him, each snap of his hips makes him bury his cock deeper inside your cunt, earning loud repetitive mewls from you and low, raspy grunts from him, “Matt — daddy I — fuck!”

Matt keeps you pressed into his strong build, his grasp tightening around your neck as your thrash in his arms. He leaves a trail of wet, sloppy kisses down the nape of your neck as he places your orgasm in front of you; quite literally handing it to you like a present wrapped in a pretty pink bow. “I know, baby — mph! — me too.” His thumb still works tight circles onto your clit, applying just enough pressure to make those blissful moans roll off the tip of your tongue. He loved every minute of it – his cock ramming into you at a rapid pace, your sweet, sacred moans echoing off the ancient walls, the rocking of the box-like cubicle as he fucks you out. He thrived off every moment he shared with you, sexual or not.

The little ball of bliss piling up in your gut finally dares to break loose, making it unbearable to ignore or to keep quiet. Your knees go weak, and your body convulses uncontrollably as you collapse against him fully, “oh my god! – I'm cum –,” your chest vibrating as another lewd mewl erupts from it, cutting your words off as a small stream of fluid squirts out of your fucked out cunt, coating the carpeted floors of the elevator. Your body goes limp, your chest heaving while Matt gives you a few more thrusts.

Your mind spun at the feeling of your annoyingly handsome upstairs neighbor making you climax, in a matter of minutes, under his control again. He releases you from his grip, only to push you forward, his grip firm on your waist to hold you in place, he pulls his cock out of your stretched pussy as quickly as he can before painting your ass cheek with his own cum. Heavy pants from the both of you fill the room, “fuck — d’you jus' squirt?” You can feel the redness creep up to your face almost immediately. You weren’t sure if you did or not, but you knew it was something you had never done before. With that being said, you’d rather not talk about it, “mphh — I don’t know,” one last moan flees your lips as he gives your ass one final squeeze, the ghosting of his hands leaving a burning sensation on your skin. 

After collecting yourself, using one of Matt’s extra t-shirts he had stashed in his bag to blindly clean off the leftover residue of his cum; you just prayed you got it all. You and Matt sit in the darkness, your phone light reflecting off your face as the two of you sit in awkward silence. He clears his throat, his voice softer than before, “y’mad at me?” 

You let out a sarcastic chuckle, “am I mad at you for ruining my night and getting me stuck in a scary death trap of an elevator?” 

“Huh,” he spits out, matching your sarcastic tone, “I think the way I fucked you was a pretty good apology,” even though you couldn’t see his face that well, you knew a sly smirk was engraved deep in his expression. You look up at him, trying to make out the figure of his face in the dark before remembering you have a phone light to blind him with. You turn you flash on with one swift tap of your finger, shining it directly in his eyes, making him squint as you glare up at him, “savor it while you can because I will never fuck you again.” 

Matt rolls his eyes, not taking you seriously at all. You furrow your eyebrows at him, colliding your phone into the side of his thick skull, “and if you even think about telling anyone you fucked me, I will —,” your sweet, honey-like voice gets cut off by Matt pressing his lips to your once again. What was this kids problem?

He pulls away with a goofy smile plastered across his face, “I love it when you get aggressive,” he coos lightly, earning a forced groan from you as you fight back a smile that tries so badly to make itself known. 

A few moments later, the doors to the elevator gap open, allowing the bright hallway lights to peer through. You can see the fireman’s face as he peeks through the gap, “everybody alright? Nobody’s hurt?” 

Matt keeps his eyes stuck on you like glue, “yeah we’re both okay,” a goofy smile pulls at his lips, making the one you had been biting back the whole time finally let loose. You smack at his arm, “it’s not funny, Matt. You got us stuck,” snapping at him as you desperately try to wipe the ear-to-ear grin off your face, your cheeks tinted a light shade of pink as you look away from him.

The firemen work on freeing you from the dark prison you had been trapped in for the past two hours, queuing the both of you to crawl through the gap one at a time. Of course, your upstairs neighbor — being the true gentleman he is — made sure to give you a boost. He also made sure his hands stayed on your ass as he lifted you up through the gaped doors, “get your hands off my ass, you perv!” you snap at him as the two firemen in front of you help you to your feet. Your comment earns a muffled, “jus’ trying to help, geez,” from Matt who was still trapped in the dark space below.

Once you're finally on your feet, you can see the group of firefighters, along with Matt’s two brothers and the maintenance man, standing close by with knowing smirks etched on their faces. You can hear one of his brothers mumble something like, " there should be a 'no sex in the elevator' rule from now on," which leaves you running for your apartment like a deer caught in headlights. Your head hangs low, you don't dare to make eye contact with any of them as you do your walk run of shame up the stairs. Matt’s deep voice bouncing off the hallway walls once you’re on your designated floor, “m’never leaving you alone, y/n!” You fumble with your keys as his footsteps patter up the stairs, weighing in on you quickly, muffled laughs falling close behind as you unlock your door.

‘At least he didn’t cum in me this time,’ was the only thought running rampant through your mind as you entered your apartment. You let the heavy door slam shut behind you, pressing your back against it, dropping your bag as you slide to the floor. “What the fuck jus’ happened?” you murmur to yourself, pinching the bridge of your nose of out stress. You had mixed emotions about the whole ordeal, being imprisoned in an ancient death trap the last two hours. Wendy doesn’t allow you to stay distraught for long since you were late feeding her dinner, she prances up to you, her repeated meows bringing serotonin to your soul. A smile makes its way to your lips as you give Wendy a few pets, pulling yourself to your feet to prep her dinner and place your doordash order in the process

♡‧₊˚ Cheys Note - I'm making it a new goal to give you guys a longer fics every once in a while!! I feel like this add a lot of character development to Brat and Neighbor!Matt's dynamic. Let me know what you guys think?! And as always, thank you to my girl @sweetshuga for her expert opinions ❤️‍🔥

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[little-jana]

"Innocent Accident"

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x f!reader

Genre: heated, smutty, 18+, no explicit s*x

Warnings: kissing, touching

Words: 2.2k

Summary: After accidently sending an after fitness selfie to Hotch, month worth of tension breaks.

It all started with one stupid mistake. One accidental slip that I would never live down.

I’d been lounging on my couch after work, still in my yoga leggings and sports bra, scrolling through my phone while waiting for dinner to heat up. My best friend and I had been texting back and forth, and she’d demanded proof that I hadn’t completely abandoned my fitness goals over the holidays.

Reluctantly, I snapped a quick mirror selfie. It was harmless enough—just me standing in the warm light of my apartment, flushed from the workout but still looking decent. I attached it to the text, added a sarcastic caption, and hit send.

Except… I didn’t send it to my best friend.

I sent it to Aaron Hotchner.

My stomach dropped as soon as I realized what I’d done. My finger hovered over the screen as if I could magically pull the message back through sheer force of will. But it was too late.

Aaron Hotchner, my boss, the stoic leader of the BAU, the man who had perfected the art of the unreadable expression, now had a picture of me in workout gear on his phone.

My phone buzzed almost immediately, and my stomach twisted into knots as I opened the message.

Hotch: “I think this may have been sent in error.”

I wanted to scream. Or cry. Or throw my phone into a fire. Instead, I typed back quickly, my fingers trembling: “Oh my god. Hotch, I’m so sorry. That wasn’t meant for you.”

Three dots appeared as he typed, and I held my breath.

Hotch: “No need to apologize. Accidents happen.”

That was it. Short, professional, and completely devoid of emotion. Exactly what I should have expected from him. And yet, something about the message left me uneasy.

The next day at work was unbearable.

Hotch was calm and composed as always, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that his eyes lingered on me a little longer than usual. Every time he walked into the room, my pulse quickened, and I felt like I was walking on a tightrope.

I avoided him as much as possible, diving into my work with single-minded focus. But by midday, I knew I couldn’t keep it up.

“Y/N,” his deep voice called from across the bullpen. “Can I see you in my office for a moment?”

My heart leapt into my throat as I nodded, forcing myself to look calm even though my nerves were screaming.

When I stepped into his office, he closed the door behind me, and I suddenly felt very aware of how small the space was.

“Have a seat,” he said, gesturing to the chair across from his desk.

I sat down, folding my hands in my lap to keep them from shaking.

“I just wanted to check in,” he began, his tone gentle. “You’ve seemed… distracted today.”

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to meet his gaze. “I’m fine. Really.”

He studied me for a moment, his dark eyes piercing. “Are you sure?”

The weight of his attention was almost too much to bear. My cheeks flushed, and I looked away, fumbling for a response. “I guess I’ve just been… embarrassed about the text,” I admitted finally.

“Y/N,” he said softly, leaning forward slightly. “You don’t need to feel embarrassed. It was an innocent mistake.”

His voice was calm, reassuring, but there was something else in his expression—something I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

“I appreciate that,” I said quietly, still avoiding his eyes. “But it’s hard not to feel… self-conscious.”

There was a pause, and then he spoke, his voice lower now, almost a murmur. “For what it’s worth, you looked… strong. Confident.”

I blinked, my heart skipping a beat. Of all the things he could have said, I hadn’t expected that.

His gaze didn’t waver, and I felt a flush creep up my neck as the silence stretched between us.

“Thank you,” I said finally, my voice barely above a whisper.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” he said, his tone softening further. “You’re intelligent, capable, and… you’re harder on yourself than you deserve.”

The air between us seemed to shift, growing heavier with each passing moment. I couldn’t look away from him now, my pulse racing as his words sank in.

“Aaron…” I said softly, not even realizing I’d used his first name until it was out of my mouth.

Something flickered in his expression—surprise, maybe, or something deeper. He leaned back slightly, as if trying to put distance between us, but his eyes never left mine.

“You should get back to work,” he said finally, his voice quiet but firm.

I nodded, standing on shaky legs. “Right. Of course.”

As I turned to leave, his voice stopped me.

“Y/N.”

I turned back, my hand still on the door handle.

“For what it’s worth,” he said, his expression unreadable now, “you have nothing to be embarrassed about.”

Over the next few days, the tension between us became impossible to ignore.

Hotch kept his professional demeanor, but I couldn’t miss the way his eyes lingered on me when he thought I wasn’t looking, or how his voice softened just a fraction when he spoke to me. It was subtle, but it was there.

For my part, I was a mess. My thoughts were a jumble every time he entered the room, my pulse racing as I replayed his words over and over in my mind.

By the third day, the tension had reached its breaking point.

It was late. Most of the team had already left, and the bullpen was eerily quiet. I’d stayed behind to finish up some lingering paperwork, hoping the monotony would distract me from the mess of emotions swirling inside me.

But then, as if the universe had decided to toy with me, Hotch appeared. His presence was unmistakable—the sound of his polished shoes on the tile floor, the way the air seemed to shift when he was near.

“Still here?” he asked, his tone deceptively casual, though his eyes told a different story.

I nodded, looking up at him. “I could ask you the same thing.”

He didn’t respond immediately, his gaze lingering on me. Finally, he gestured toward his office. “Can I see you for a moment?”

My heart thudded in my chest as I followed him, my nerves thrumming with an anticipation I couldn’t quite name. He closed the door behind us, the quiet click of the lock making the room feel even smaller.

He turned to me, his expression unreadable. But his voice—it wasn’t his usual, measured tone. It was deeper, rougher, laced with something I couldn’t ignore.

“I can’t keep doing this,” he said suddenly, his words cutting through the silence.

I blinked, startled. “Doing what?”

“This,” he said, gesturing vaguely between us. “Pretending there’s nothing here. Pretending I don’t feel this… pull every time I’m near you.”

My breath caught in my throat, his words leaving me speechless.

“I’ve tried to ignore it,” he continued, his voice softening but no less intense. “For weeks. Months. But it’s only gotten worse.”

I swallowed hard, my heart pounding in my ears. “Aaron…”

The sound of his name on my lips seemed to break something in him. In two strides, he closed the distance between us, his hands cupping my face as his lips crashed against mine.

It wasn’t tentative or hesitant—it was hungry, desperate, like he’d been holding back for far too long. My hands found their way to his chest, clutching at his shirt as he pressed me back against the door, his body warm and solid against mine.

The kiss deepened, and I could feel the tension that had been building between us for days—weeks—finally snapping. His hands moved down, gripping my waist as he pulled me closer, his touch firm and possessive.

When we finally broke apart, we were both breathing heavily, our foreheads resting against each other as we tried to catch our breath.

“This is reckless,” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly. “But I can’t seem to care.”

I smiled, my fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “Then don’t.”

His lips found mine again, slower this time but no less intense. His hands slid up to tangle in my hair, tilting my head back as he deepened the kiss, his control slipping further with every passing second.

“Aaron,” I whispered, the sound of his name sending a shiver through him.

He pulled back just enough to look at me, his dark eyes searching mine. “Tell me to stop,” he said softly, his voice almost pleading. “If this isn’t what you want—”

“It is,” I interrupted, my voice firm despite the breathlessness. “It is.”

That was all the confirmation he needed. He kissed me again, and this time there was no hesitation, no restraint. His hands moved to my hips, lifting me effortlessly onto his desk as he stepped between my legs, his body pressing against mine in a way that left no room for doubt.

The next few minutes were a blur of heat and urgency, of whispered names and stolen breaths. I’d never seen him like this—so undone, so raw—and it only made me want him more.

When we finally pulled apart, our lips swollen and our breathing ragged, he rested his forehead against mine, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“This changes everything,” he murmured, echoing his earlier words.

“Good,” I whispered back, my fingers tracing lazy circles on his chest. “Because I don’t want to go back to pretending.”

He kissed me again, softer this time but no less fervent, his hands cradling my face like I was something precious. And in that moment, I knew—this wasn’t just a breaking point. It was a beginning.

[tacticalprincess]

MDNI — cw: f!reader, car sex, age gap

farmhand!könig who can’t get enough of farmer’s daughter!reader….

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ 🌾

he’s always pestering you, making it impossible for you to complete your chores on time most days. he’s addicted to the playful gleam in your eyes when you look up at him, the way your soft body feels in his rugged hands. the excitement that thrums under his skin as the two of you dance around your overprotective dad, sharing a secret that tethers you together long after you leave his shed at night, lingers thick in the air at the dinner table and in passing. the more of you you give to him, the worse his craving for you gets, and the less he seems to care about getting caught.

he sneaks a hand over your mouth and lifts you into his old, beat up truck while you’re taking your dry sheets off the clothesline, the sun hot and heavy overhead. you squeal against his palm, writhing in his hold before he sets you on his broad lap, letting you turn to face him.

“don’t do that! you scared me.”

he laughs it off, already snaking his large, calloused hands under your shirt to thumb at your hip pudge. cant waste any time when he has you alone. insincere apologizes mumbled into the soft, sweat slick skin of your neck, huffing in your sweet scent. “cant help myself with you teasing me like this. bending over in these tiny shorts, showing all the animals your ass.”

you giggle, back arching into the older man’s greedy, firm touch, angling your head away to give him more access to your neck. “the cows weren’t exactly my target audience.”

“talking about me, liebchen.” he clarifies. the strong smell of musk and mud invades your senses, the soft fabric of his white tee chafing against your hard, braless nipples through your flimsy shirt. “dirty little girl, aren’t you? going to get me in trouble one day, i know it. what would your father do if he knew his daughter was trying to seduce his best farmhand?”

he renders your ability to speak null and void when he slots his hands into your shorts and squeezes you for all you have to offer, spreading your cheeks and making you grind your hips down on his hard bulge, the friction from your jeans borderline painful against your clit. groans throatily at how wet you are already, his fingers slipping into your hole to gather your slick before he retracts it entirely, showing you how it sticks to his thick digits. “hm? looks like this cute little cunt missed me too.” a cocky grin plagues his sharp features, smearing your juices over your pouty lips dirtily, just to see your face scrunch up in disgust. he grabs your chin, pulling you forward to lick it off.

it’s all happening too fast, exhilaration clinging to your bones, heat gathering at your core. you look around the field warily, mind racing with doubt but your body betrays you, bucking into his mouth when you feel him litter sloppy, wet kisses along your chest, pulling down the strap of your shirt to let your cute boobs spring free. if it wasn’t hot already, you’re burning up now. “könig, not out in the open like this. what if daddy sees?”

“i’ll be quick, maus. just want to play with you.” he promises, though you have a sneaking suspicion it won’t be over that soon. “can you feel how hard you make me? you’re all i can think about, it’s impairing my ability to work. cant have that, can we?”

decidedly, you don’t want to be the cause of a sudden switch in the quality of könig’s farm work, or at least that’s what you tell yourself when you let him push your shorts to the side, sitting yourself down on his thick, hard manhood. he swallows every heavenly noise that tip from your soft lips onto his tongue, clashing teeth and jaw from desperation. lets you grit your kitten nails into his scalp for purchase, hot bodies pressed flush together in the cramped space while he lifts and drops you down until your thighs start to tremble and lock around him. the heels of your boots dent into your plush thighs, his are planted to the floor as he pile drives his hips into you, thrusts deliberate and meticulous in a way that awakens sweet parts you didn’t know you had.

it’s a shame, he thinks, having to hide away in a dirty truck with such a pretty thing like you. too soft and sweet for a man like him, but his addiction to you makes you impossible to resist. it’s unclear who’s corrupting who in this situation.

if you were back home with him in austria, he would’ve proposed to you already, declaring you as his for everyone to see. as it is, he bounces you on his cock until you’re seeing stars, the ambience of the farm surrounding you, with the slowly setting sun as your witness.

[sosasturns]

doordashin - c. sturniolo

the last thing you’d ever expected was to hook up with your goddamn doordasher. it’s not like it came with the service—but somehow, here you were, throwing it back for the guy who delivered your eight-piece wing combo from wingstop. fucking ironic.

it all started when you ordered late-night food, craving something quick and satisfying. your dasher chris had texted you a few minutes earlier to confirm he was on his way.

dasher: on the elevator.

but the picture that came through was definitely not of your food. instead, your screen lit up with a low-angled selfie of him holding his much-hardened dick in his hand. your eyes widened as you registered what you were seeing—his phone angled to show off every inch of him. what the fuck?

dasher: oh shit lmao dasher: my fault.

and with that he sent another pic, this time one of him in the elevator on the way up to your condo with your food order. you blinked, half in shock and half in disbelief. what the hell just happened? the confidence to even send a picture like that by accident was…something.

dasher: omw up now. you: alr you: u can drop both off

he replied almost immediately.

dasher: ???

you smirked to yourself, fingers typing faster than your brain could second-guess.

you: my food and that dick.

the reply came after a beat.

dasher: yeah right.

but the way his words carried a smirk…you had a feeling this wasn’t over. when you opened the door moments later, your suspicion was confirmed. chris was tall, lanky but strong, with piercing blue eyes and a mischievous grin. his shaggy hair framed his face in a way that made him look both boyish and stupidly hot. he handed over your food, but the tension in the air was almost suffocating.

“about that tip,” you teased, stepping aside and letting the door hang open a little longer than necessary.

he tilted his head, an eyebrow raised. “yeah?”

you placed your food down on the counter, leaning against it. “you’re cute,” you admitted, trying to play it cool. “and that pic…well, it’s a bold move.”

“accidental bold move,” he corrected, though he wasn’t exactly looking embarrassed anymore. “still, gotta admit, it worked out pretty well for me, honey.”

“maybe,” you said, eyeing him up and down. “guess you’ll find out.”

one thing led to another. fast forward ten minutes, and your moans filled the air, muffled slightly as your face pressed into the couch’s throw pillows. hands gripping the armrests, you choked out a string of stammered praises as chris’s hips snapped against yours. his right hand was firm on the small of your back, guiding your body to meet his rhythm. his other hand gripped your hip with a force that left no question about how much he was enjoying this.

“y'feel so good,” he muttered, his voice rough and low. “so fuckin' good.”

his words sent a thrill straight to your core, and you arched your back further, pushing against him. “don’t stop,” you gasped, your breath hitching as his pace quickened. his movements were almost feral now, the slap of skin against skin echoing in the room.

his fingers slid down your spine before tangling in your hair, tugging just enough to make you whimper. “god,” he murmured, his tone thick with amusement and desire. “lovin' this dick, hm?”

“fuck yes,” you moaned, your thighs trembling as the pleasure built higher and higher. every thrust was perfectly angled, sending jolts of electricity through your body. you could feel yourself teetering on the edge, your breathing erratic as his grip tightened.

he leaned down, his chest brushing against your back as his lips ghosted over your ear. “makin' me work for that tip, huh?” he teased, his voice dripping with cocky amusement.

“shut up,” you managed to stammer, though the laugh that escaped you was laced with a breathless moan. your body betrayed you as you clenched around him, dragging another groan from his lips.

“holy shit,” he groaned, his pace relentless. “i'm gonna come.”

“me too,” you managed to choke out, your voice breaking as a wave of ecstasy crashed over you. your body shook as the orgasm tore through you, leaving you breathless and quivering beneath him. the way he moaned your name as he followed you over the edge sent another shiver down your spine, the intensity of it leaving you both spent.

he pulled out with a sharp exhale, collapsing onto the couch beside you for a moment. his hand lazily brushed over your lower back before he stood, reaching for a tissue to clean himself up.

he glanced at you, sprawled out and trying to catch your breath, with a crooked grin. “so,” he said, tugging his jeans back up. “you tippin’ me extra, right?”

you rolled your eyes as you moved to sit up. “hell no.”

he laughed, “worth a shot,” he said, his smirk as cocky as ever. as he opened the door to leave, he threw you one last cocky grin over his shoulder. “don't miss me too much, baby.”

and just like that, he was gone, leaving you with your food, a sore body, and the memory of one hell of a delivery.

© sosasturns

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hiiii I was looking to see if your request is open but couldn’t find it so I’ll just drop it here and feel free to write it :) I love your writings! 🌸

May I ask for batboys reacting to shy reader who wants them to lie down on her lap after their long day. She wants to praise them, play with their hair and shower them with kisses :0 thank you!

Dick:

Would rest his head on your lap regardless of whether you asked him to do not, your lap was the perfect pillow for him and he will not have it any other way.

‘Hi baby.’ He greets as he beams up at you from the comfort of your lap.

‘Hi honey, long day?’ You greeted back, your hands already finding their way into his hair and began to comb through it slowly as he hums, burrowing himself closer to you as a means to feel more of you against him.

‘Yeah but it’s nothing I can’t handle.’ Dick replied and smiled wide when you kissed his cheek before kissing his nose, and felt his heart melt upon giggling you giggling when he scrunched up his face.

‘Is there nothing that my handsome man can’t do?’ You asked sarcastically as you pressed a kiss to his other cheek. ‘Or is he just the most perfect man in existence?’

Dick made a face at this. ‘Have you maybe considered that this handsome man of yours has an amazing, wonderful and beautifully cute spouse waiting at home for him as inspiration?’ He looks at you with a raised brow.

‘I’m the one who’s meant to be praising you tonight, not you praising me.’ You chuckled as you peppered his face in small, quick kisses that had Dick reaching a hand to the back of your head, holding you close so he could give you a plethora of kisses of his own.

‘Well what if we could just both praise the other tonight.’ Dick said against your lips.

‘I can deal with that.’ You replied as you spent the rest of the night whispering sweet nothings to one another and trading kisses.

Jason:

Your lap was his save haven after a long and tiresome day from having to listen to Bruce critique his way of ridding crime out of Gotham. So he wasn’t going to refuse your affection, not when you shyly patted your lap as an invite to rest his head and looking cute whilst doing so.

God had his permission to smite him to his second death should he actually refuses your requests to coddle him and shower him in all your love and adoration.

If anything the days where you offered up your lap to him were the best days of his entire life as he got to spend it looking up at an absolute angel that he was lucky enough to call his own.

‘How’s my gorgeous jay birdie feeling today?’ You asked as you kissed his along his jaw and stopping when you got to his chin.

‘I’m feeling fantastic now that I’m with you sweetheart. How about you.’ He replied back as he looked up at you with his pretty eyes that he knew made you weak. Jason only wanted to give you back the love and support that you give him on a daily basis tenfold, for it’s what you truly deserved in his eyes.

He loved you too much to allow you to settle for mediocrity.

‘I’m feeling much better now my strong, brave boy has come home to me safe and one less bruise to ice.’ You responded with a lighthearted chuckle as you lifted up one of his large hands and pressed a kiss to the back of it, before resting your cheek against it to commemorate his warmth and callouses to memory.

‘Don’t come at me with that sweetheart, I know you love icing my bruises, especially when they’re on my abdomen.’ Jason cheeked as he winked at you, taking pure enjoyment out of seeing your flustered face. It was a much needed breath of fresh air coming home to sweet, caring you from the cold, unforgiving outside and he cherished every bit of it for as long as he could.

‘Meanie.’ You murmur, booping him on the nose.

‘Meanie? How am I being mean chipmunk, I know how much you love my abs and my thighs.’ Jason chuckled as he booped your nose in retaliation. ‘Why do you think I never skip leg day?’

‘You’re more than perfect the way you are Jason,’ you countered, ‘perfect body or not you’re still my jay birdie. Forever and always.’ You whispered the last part as you pressed a sweet tender kiss to his lips as he smiled in response.

Tim:

He always finds himself perpetually tired from working himself to the bone, so when you offered up your lap for him to rest, the poor man practically sighed in relief, almost as if he were a man dying of thirst in the desert; finally having found the oasis he had been wandering aimlessly for.

‘You don’t know how much I needed this.’ Tim groans as he made himself comfortable in your lap, trying his hardest to not to close his eyes right then and there from the prepping of light kisses you were scattering across his forehead and under his eyes.

Gosh he hates how weak he gets from your little kisses but would die a little on the inside if you didn’t.

‘I’m sure I can take a guess.’ You said sweetly as you ran your hand through his hair. ‘You’ve been overworking yourself so much lately that I rarely see you as much,’ Tim’s stomach dropped upon hearing this but let you finish speaking, ‘but when I do see you it always makes me happy knowing that you’re okay.’ You then pressed a kiss to his cheek.

‘I’m sorry for-‘ you cut him off by pressing a finger to his lips, muttering a soft ‘don’t. Don’t blame yourself for things you can’t control.’

‘But I can control it!’ Tim exclaimed. ‘It’s not fair on you to exhaust yourself on me every night after patrol and still find it within yourself to take care of me…I don’t deserve any of it as it feels as though I’m taking advantage of you somehow.’ Tim trailed off as he looked away for you as guilt are away at him.

‘Tim,’ you called, ‘my sweet Tim as long as I know your okay and come home to me every night, then I don’t care how long I have to stay up just catch a glimpse of your handsome face.’ You reassured him as you kissed his jawline softly, and Tim felt himself weaken under your words and affection as he looked back up at you.

‘You really mean that?’ He asked almost quietly.

‘I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it with all my heart my sweet, smart boy.’ You said while pressing a singular kiss to his forehead.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Hey :) Hope you're doing well, I read some of your Aemond fanfics, and they were great. I was hoping you could write a Jacaerys x Alicent daughter fanfic. Something about an arranged marriage, you can take it anyway you wish, but could there be some angst in there. with the prompts 1. ‘’My blood is not noble enough for a prince.’’ and 14. ‘’I’m not used to this. Being a wife.’’

Thank you :)

Request: Alicent’s second daughter to marry Jacaerys to unite the houses

Thank you for the compliment on my Aemond fics <3 More will be coming soon. Also, I was not able to use the first prompt as it doesn’t work with the characters. Alicent’s daughter’s blood is more noble than Jacaerys since her father is king and his mother is princess. I hope you still enjoy what I wrote for you <3

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

Twenty years ago, when Viserys made Rhaenyra his heir, the knights and houses who swore allegiance to him had no choice but to accept her as their future queen. She was the king’s only child. But now that the king had a male heir — and a spare —, there were possibilities that people would oppose her claim to the throne and demand Aegon to wear the crown. 

To prevent the situation from happening, the king and queen, along with Rhaenyra, made an accord that Rhaenyra would ascend the throne following the king’s death, but to unite the houses, the princess’s firstborn son — and heir — would marry Alicent’s second daughter and, one day, inherit the throne together. 

Like any political marriage, you nor Jacaerys had a choice or say. At least he wasn’t an older lord you had met once or twice. You knew Jacaerys — a little. He was kind, loyal and protective. He was a good man. 

Prior to that arrangement, your grandsire, Otto, had been talking to you about having a tourney to meet suitors, but your mother had been quick to oppose to the idea. She didn't want you to be the victim of his scheming like she had been at your age. 

You were drawing under the weirwood tree when Jacaerys stepped into the yard, having just arrived in King’s Landing. Its red leaves matched the color of your dress, making him smile. He liked you in red. 

‘’I was told by the servants that my wife was out here.’’ 

Immersed in your drawing, you didn’t hear the prince approaching. You only glanced up when you heard your new title, the sound of his voice almost making you drop your charcoal onto your dress. Your mother would have been furious.

A soft laugh left your lips. Moons have passed since the wedding, yet being called a wife still felt strange. ‘’I’m not used to this. Being a wife.’’

‘’Me either,’’ Jacaerys admitted. ‘’What are you drawing, Princess?’’ 

You reflected his smile as he approached. ‘’Just some birds.’’

Jacaerys walked up to the tree and sat beside you. He had a bit of dirt on his jacket from sparring with Ser Criston in the training yard. 

‘’How was your training session with Ser Criston?’’ you asked, raising a hand to run through the front of his hair, fixing an unruly curl that was on the wrong side. 

The older he got, the more he looked like Ser Harwin Strong. He had the same dark brown curls. But you would never dare saying that out loud. Although you meant it as a compliment, the mere insinuation of his illegitimacy was a vile insult to the crown — to the princess. 

‘’I disarmed him twice…and I ate some dirt.’’ The brunet grimaced, the earthy taste still lingering on his tongue. ‘’It was a blessing that no one was watching.’’  

‘’Mayhaps you need an opponent that is closest to your age?’’ you suggested, not finding it fair that he was sparring against a grown man who had years of practice as a knight. ‘’You could ask Aemond to train with you? He is training for the upcoming tourney, but I’m sure he would a accept to help you.’’

Jacaerys hummed, then leaned back against the weirwood tree, taking a moment of rest. He watched with quiet admiration as you continued your drawing, fascinated by the way you could, with a few strokes of charcoal, illustrate pretty much anything. Birds, flowers, dragons, or portraits of your family. 

Much like your twin brother, you favored solitude over socializing. When the betrothal was announced to you, you assumed that this tranquility would be disrupted, but it turned out that Jacaerys enjoyed it too. Partially. While he often thrived on the excitement and duty that came with his heir title, he found it relieving that he could find peace and comfort in your silent company. 

‘’I’m going back to Dragonstone in the morrow,’’ the prince announced, breaking the serenity of the quiet.

‘’How long for?’’

Jacaerys shifted, fearing the conversation that was to come. ‘’No. I’m going back to Dragonstone…permanently.’’

You stopped drawing, a sudden knot forming in your stomach. ‘’And what of me?’’ 

‘’You can join. Or not. That is up to you.’’ 

‘’And what of us? What of our marriage, Jace?’’ you asked, turning your head toward him. 

When you got wed in the tradition of Old Valyria, you pledged to one another that you were one flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever. Jacaerys returning to Dragonstone would break your duties to your House. 

‘’Dragonstone is easy to travel from and back on dragonback.’’ You began picking at your fingers, and Jacaerys noticed, taking your hand in his to stop you. ‘’I tried, but King’s Landing is not my home. I don’t belong here.’’

‘’I can’t leave my family.’’ 

‘’I left mine for you.’’ 

You pulled your hand from his hold and narrowed your eyes at him. Jacaerys moving to King’s Landing after the wedding ceremony was your father’s idea, not yours. How dared he blame you for a decision you didn't make?

—

House of the dragon taglist: @khaleesihavilliard @domoron @ididliquorice @lover-of-helios @lover-of-helios @shine101 @tanyaherondale @mikariell95 @serrendiipty @lantsovheiress @gilliananderfuckme @shine101 @tetgod @clayzayden@memeorydotcom @tnu-ree @futuregws @blackravena @winxschester @mysteriouslydelightfulchaos @xxlaynaxx @secretsthathauntus @pilarxxxaguayo @emmavan39 @stargaryenx @erylilly @bbblackmamba @rainedrop97 @dreamer087 @gothicgay14 @ashlatano7567 @superkittywonderland @justaproudslytherpuff @evesolstice @buckysmainhxe @padfootsvixen @scarletmeii @evesolstice @dkathl @kaywsworld @tetgod @padfootsvixen @domoron @weird-addiction @angeliod @xjennyx2 @adaydreamaway08  @mymultiveres  @secretsthathauntus  @puffycreamcakes @thirsty4nonlivingmen@naty-1001@katiepie67@moshpot24x@hc-geralt-23 @lovelynerdytraveler@saturn-sas  @zgzgh @sssjuico10 @tabloidteen @timetoten @deekaag@wondxrgurl@aerangi@strmborns@astridyoo15 @daemonslittlebitch @queenbeestuffs @severewobblerlightdragon @agentstarkid @msliz @vane1999-blog @fairyfolkloresposts @todaywasafairytale07 @otomaniac @zgzgzh @thebeardedmoon @golden-library @kikyrizuki @hnslchw @camy85 @winxschester @armstrongscommentsection

All and more taglist:  @kenqki  @hawkegfs  @gillybear17   @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade   @mellabella101 @vxnity713  @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart  @xyzstar  @graceberman3   @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @idkwhattonamethisblogs  @lexasaurs634  @notasadgirlipromise @zoeynicolas @thejuleshypothesis @multi-fandom-bi-bitch @lexasaurs634  @notasadgirlipromise @thejuleshypothesis  @katherinejess  @rafesgirlstuff   @lafleshlumpeater @iamluminosity  Anouk nani-2305 @books0fever

[with-my-calamitous-love]

PUT ON YOUR RECORDS AND REGRET ME

katsuki bakugou x reader

should you open the door after all he’s done?

part 2/3

a/n: ty for all the love on part 1 🤍

not saying this is a major vent based off of personal experience but im not not saying that

inspired by high infidelity

to say you didn’t always have suspicions would be a lie. you didn’t want to believe them. broken locks, shifty text messages, numbers you didn’t always recognize, and the slight feeling of him pulling away. you didn’t think he’d actually do it. and honestly, neither did he.

alcohol does crazy things to a person. and so when you, your boyfriend, and all his friends decided to go out to a bar to celebrate his birthday, you knew it wasn’t going to be a tame night. but you didn’t think you’d go home, alone and crying, the scent of whiskey lingering on your clothes.

he bent the truth too far that night. he came to you in the morning, his hangover evident by his eye bags and poor choice of clothing. he still smelled like alcohol from the night before.

and despite all that, you still listened. listened to his story about how he was whisked away in a drinking game with kaminari and kirishima, and bakugou was supposedly the only one sober enough to take the two guys home. that made a convenient explanation as to why he left you all alone with no ride home.

and pathetically so, you wanted to believe him. despite the radio silence from everyone the everyone the previous night, the smell of perfume on his shirt that smelled too strong to be yours, and the taste of someone else when he kissed your lips.

and for each day after that, you learned more and more the many different ways you can kill the one you love. the worst way is never loving them enough.

it started by your calls going straight to voicemail- each time he’d say that his phone died while he was patrolling. then constantly needing to call kirishima, the only other person who knows him like you do, desperately needing help to manage his emotions. the redhead had infinite patience for your boyfriend, and you were thankful for that- but you also wondered what haunted bakugou so much that he couldn’t go to you for.

he wanted to play the role of the good guy, even if it was just that- a role. he wanted to be who you deserved, even after he earned a big black stain on his morality after the crime he committed. he wanted things to just be normal, but it couldn’t. he was lying through his teeth and you both knew it, and yet couldn’t say anything about it.

until april 29th. exactly 9 days after his birthday. 9 days after what he did.

he breaks it off quick. he tells you that he’s not treating you right, that he’s a shitty boyfriend and a shitty person. that he needs to be a better person and that he can’t make you wait for him. and so, katsuki bakugou leave safe and stranded.

and in a way, he was right. being a shitty boyfriend, being everything you don’t deserve was only a part of it- he knew that if he stayed with you any longer, the guilt from the truth would eat him alive. so selfishly, he chose to preserve himself and to let you hurt. that might have killed him more.

you didn’t even bother to get your things from his apartment. in fact, you couldn’t get out of bed. because you kneel you were lied too yet you didn’t want to revel in the truth. the truth that katsuki bakugou wasn’t just a shitty boyfriend, he was a shitty cheating boyfriend.

you denied everything for the days to come. you hoped it was all just some twisted dream, and that what happened wasn’t really happening. that was all so until the day you got a visit from a certain redhead.

it was a normal day. you were lounging in your apartment, needing time away from all the heartache in the world. you treated your suspicions like a secret. maybe if you didn’t think about it, it wouldn’t have actually happened. as if simple denial could erase reality.

the sun is setting when your doorbell rings. when you answer, its kirishima. your heart sinks, wondering why he’d be visiting you directly. you wanted to hope for the best, but you didn’t exactly know what to expect.

the redhead grimaces when he sees the way he breaks your heart. he knows he’s doing the right thing, but he hates how the right thing is causing you so much pain. he explains to you the truth of that night, behind katsuki’s sudden break up. how it wasn’t just because he felt like he wasn’t good enough- what he did actually proved that fear. kirishima explains how bakugou got absolutely shit-faced drunk, and how he went home with who was not, in fact, you. he tries to salvage it, by saying that katsuki didn’t hesitate to cut her off, to tell her it was a mistake and that he shouldn’t have done it. he was also quick to tell his best friend how god damn unmanly it was for him to cheat on you. he says that he couldn’t take it anymore watching you being lied even during the split.

“i’m so fucking sorry, [y/n].” he concludes his confession, his red eyes looking into yours. he hates that this is happening. he loves bakugou, and by extension he loves you, and he can’t stand the idea of this happening to his two favourite people in the world.

you don’t say much as he leaves. what could you say, anyway?

katsuki bakugou had cheated on you.

✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚

after your suspicions were confirmed, you finally mustered up enough courage to get out of bed. you went over to his apartment and quietly collected your things, your heart racing out of your chest just being in his presence. and of course, he tries to stop you. he knows you’ve learned the truth and it makes his stomach churn.

“fucking some other girl is one thing, but lying to me too.” you hiss, both of you wincing at the sound of your voice cracking under all the heart. his usual smart ass mouth is silent, knowing damn well he deserves the accusations. what hurts more is seeing the tears run down your face, dragging the mascara down your cheeks. “you told me it was for my own good. t-that you needed to work on yourself. not that you cheated!”

“…i didn’t wanna hurt you even more.” he finally admits, as if pleading guilty in front a judge. and you actually scoff.

“you coward.” you hiss.

“yeah, i’m a FUCKING coward, [y/n]! i know!” he raises his voice, but you’re too numb from the hurt to care. “i couldn’t live with myself! waking up next to you knowing i fucking betrayed you. i had to let you go. you deserved more than me!”

and honestly, you don’t know what to think. you’re so angry and hurt over the fact that he cheated on you, lied, and broke up with you all in the same month.

you could see the guilt eating him up from the inside. you could see how your tear stained face right now was killing him. his anger was like an anchor dug straight through his heart. you could see in his eyes he’s been wanting to tear his own skin off after what he did to you.

you hastily wipe your eyes dry, turning away from him and moving towards the front door. his legs that were glued to the ground finally move, catching your wrist just as your about to turn the door knob.

and you actually wait. you wait to see what he’ll say. you wait to hear all his shitty excuses, or even to taste his lips and taste something that isn’t you. deep down in your heart, you hope he fights for you. that he’ll fight to keep you around, to love you again.

what hurts the most is that he doesn’t.

“…get home safe, babe.”

you nod, eyes welling up again before exiting his apartment. the walk back down is silent, even as your good friend, shouto, opens the door for you. he drives you home, playing all the breakup songs he knows you love. he’s silent, but he knows its what you need right now.

once he pulls up to your driveway, he finally musters up the courage to speak.

“…i’m sorry, [y/n].”

his voice is so velvet, a stark contrast to your ex boyfriend’s. but honestly, everyones attempts to talk to you all seem futile. you sigh, looking over at your friend with tear stained eyes.

“you know the worst part?”

“whats the worst part?”

“…i think i still love him.”

and thats the worst part.

reminder that cheating is a horrible thing to do and love does not equal forgiveness. this is simply just fiction! 🪞

part 3 soon! 🪽

tags: 💿

@katsukified @theclassiccherry @the-dumpster-fire-of-life @kitkatlover015 @mia-luvs @mikestuffffs @sleepyk0dyz @blue-chup @sleepieenaps @devils-adversary @darling-eos @dilance-rock @jxstmxlly15 @suki0 @morganalatina21 @khadeejanaur @fictional-men-dum @pretty-sparkle-bomb @naladrawssss @whenanafallsinlove

[wolverigrl]

Thirst Tweets

Hugh Jackman x reader (actress)

!Disclaimer! I’ve got a lot going on right now, and I’m not sure when I’ll be able to get back to writing. There will definitely be more parts, but not this week. I also have two oneshots saved that might go online this week, so don’t be surprised if you see them.

I'd be happy about some feedback and just a reminder to you, I have my requests open, so feel free sending some of your ideas! :)

Warnings: tiny bit of fluff and some swearing here and there

Enjoy!

Previous Part

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

Returning to New York felt like waking up from a beautiful dream I never wanted to end. Sydney had been a paradise - sunshine, the salty breeze from the ocean, and Hugh. God, Hugh. We couldn't keep our hands off each other, behaving like love-drunk teenagers. Whether it was our sunset strolls by the harbor or cozy nights in, wrapped in blankets, we found ourselves growing closer every day. There was something magical about that time - like we were in a world of our own, free from distractions.

Hugh would sometimes visit his family, leaving me to explore Sydney on my own. I’d walk through the city, admiring the sights, feeling the warmth of the sun on my skin. But no matter where I went, I was always thinking about him. It wasn’t long before I’d be back at his place, sharing stories of my solo adventures while he teased me with that wicked smile.

Of course, the paparazzi had a field day. Every moment seemed to be caught on camera - whether we were laughing together at the beach, wandering the streets hand in hand, or lounging in the park. There were endless photos of us everywhere, but I didn't mind. Honestly, I found it kind of funny how we had become some sort of internet sensation. I had even started posting more pictures of Hugh on my socials - candid shots of him with funny, flirty captions. The fans ate it up, especially when I started liking and commenting on their fan edits of Hugh. They said I was fangirling hard, and maybe I was, but could you blame me? The man is perfect.

The hate we used to get was slowly dying down, too. People were starting to root for us. It felt good.

Today, though, was on a whole new level of fun. We were shooting a "Thirst Tweets" video, and it was as chaotic as you'd imagine. The energy in the studio was electric as we settled into the plush chairs, both of us trying to stifle our giggles before the chaos of "Thirst Tweets" began. I glanced over at Hugh, who looked far too calm for what was about to go down, his long fingers tapping lightly on his knee, his face carrying that familiar smirk that always made my heart race. It was like he knew exactly what was coming and how I’d react.

The first tweet was mine to read. I grabbed the small card from the pile and cleared my throat dramatically. “Okay, here we go…” I scanned the text quickly before bursting into laughter. “Oh my God, okay. ‘I would let y/n punch me in the face just to say I’ve been touched by perfection.’ ” I couldn’t help it - I snorted.

Hugh chuckled beside me, shaking his head. “We’re starting off strong, aren’t we?” he teased.

I leaned over, nudging him with my shoulder. “What can I say? I have violent fans.”

He grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Perfection though? Can’t argue with that." he said, giving me a wink that made my face heat up.

It was Hugh’s turn next. He grabbed his card, took a quick glance, and then raised an eyebrow at me. “Alright, here’s a good one. ‘I’d like to officially announce that Hugh’s arms should be declared a public service. Like, those things could end world hunger. Use them for good, sir.’ "

I let out a loud laugh, slapping my knee. “See, this is what I’m saying! They should be protected. Maybe insured.”

He flexed a little - just enough to make me roll my eyes - and grinned. “I’ll take it under consideration.” he joked. The crew behind the camera was already in stitches, but I could tell this was just the beginning.

The next tweet was handed again to Hugh, and he gave it a quick scan before bursting into laughter. "Oh, this one's good. 'Hugh, you can call me baby girl and tell me to sit down, and I would happily obey for the rest of my life.' "

I raised an eyebrow, trying to hold in my laughter. "I mean.. you do have that commanding presence."

He turned to me with a devilish grin, his voice deep and teasing. "You think I should try it out, love? Call you baby girl and see what happens?"

I immediately blushed, my laughter betraying how flustered I was. "Oh no, let's not give the fans more material!"

He chuckled, reaching over to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. "Too late, baby."

He took the card with a dramatic flourish, his eyes quickly scanning it before he burst out laughing, almost choking on his words. “Oh no, this one’s for you, love. ‘Y/n really out here fangirling over Hugh like the rest of us. She’s one of us now.’ ”

I groaned, though I couldn’t hide my smile. "Listen, I am not fangirling!" I protested weakly, but Hugh gave me a look that said he didn’t believe a word of it.

"Oh, you totally are!" he teased, nudging me playfully. “You’re in deep.”

I shot back with a grin. “Okay, maybe I’m a little obsessed with you. Can you blame me?”

The crew behind the camera was losing it by now, and I could hear some of them whispering amongst themselves, probably trying to stifle their own laughter. But we were just getting started.

I grabbed another card, still grinning. "Hugh could choke me with his biceps, and I'd die happy."

Hugh started laughing again, clearly enjoying himself. "There's a lot of love for my arms in this, isn't there?"

I looked at him, pretending to be serious. "I mean, have you seen your arms?"

He flexed again, playing it up for the camera. "I guess I have no choice but to deliver." I snorted loudly and leaned against him while laughing and hiding my face behind my right hand.

Hugh took the next tweet, shaking his head in amusement. “Alright, here’s a spicy one. ‘Hugh, please, just throw me against a wall. Like, I’m begging you.’” He read it in such a deadpan tone that I nearly fell out of my chair laughing.

He raised an eyebrow at me as I tried to compose myself. “Well?”

I fanned myself dramatically. “That’s a strong request, but relatable."

Hugh opened his mouth to say something but instead snorted with laughter and shaking his head. "Unbelievable."

I picked up the next card, already giggling before I even read it aloud. " 'Y/n’s laugh could cure my depression, I swear. She could rob a bank and I’d still be like, wow, what a cute laugh!' "

Hugh looked over at me, grinning. “See? You do have a cute laugh.”

I shrugged, trying to play it cool even though my cheeks were burning. “I mean, if it works for bank robberies, maybe I should test it out.”

He gave me a look, smirking. “I’m not bailing you out.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to." I replied, laughing. “I’d just charm my way out of it.”

I grabbed the next card from the pile, glancing over at Hugh before reading it aloud. "Y/n, how do I sign up to be your sugar baby? I don't need much - just a little attention and maybe to sleep on Hugh's abs as a pillow."

Hugh let out a loud laugh, his eyes widening. "My abs, huh?" He leaned back, pretending to flex for a moment before winking at the camera. "I didn't realize they had so many applications."

I rolled my eyes playfully, unable to hide my grin. "I mean, you have to admit, they're not wrong. Those abs could solve a lot of problems."

He smirked, leaning in closer to me, his voice dropping a bit. "Is that what you think about every time you cuddle me, baby? Using me as your personal pillow?"

I nudged him, trying not to laugh. "What can I say? I'm resourceful."

The next few tweets were just as wild, some downright inappropriate but in a way that had us both cracking up. Hugh read a particularly bold one aloud: " 'Hugh in that leather jacket… sir, I’m on my knees. What do I need to do to get you to ruin my life?' " He paused, glancing over at me with a devilish grin. “What do they need to do?”

I covered my face, laughing into my hands. “Oh God. This is escalating so much!”

He looked at the camera and lowering his voice. “Maybe just say ‘please?’ ”

The crew burst out laughing again, and I could see the camera shaking slightly as the person filming struggled to keep it steady. By this point, even the sound guy was wiping away tears of laughter.

Hugh grabbed the next tweet from the pile, his eyes quickly scanning it before a sly grin spread across his face.

"Okay," he began, in that rich voice that could melt butter, "Here’s a fun one: ‘Hugh Jackman could breathe in my direction, and I’d immediately drop to my knees, ready to serve.’"

I let out an involuntary snort, burying my face in my hands. "Oh my!" I gasped between fits of giggles. "They went straight for it!"

Hugh, trying to maintain composure, turned toward the camera with a half smile. "Well, I appreciate the enthusiasm." he said, and then turned to me. "Is that something I should be adding to my skill set?"

I swatted his arm playfully, still laughing. "Please, let’s not turn this into a live demonstration."

Hugh chuckled and nodded towards the camera. “Fair enough. But hey, I’m flattered."

I grabbed the next tweet, scanning it quickly and feeling my face heat up even more. "Oh, this one’s good. ‘Y/n’s legs are so long, they could wrap around me twice, and I’d happily suffocate.’"

Hugh let out a low whistle, his eyes flicking down to my legs and back up to my face with a teasing grin. "I mean, they’re not wrong." he quipped, making the entire crew laugh again.

I gave him a playful serious look. "Careful, you might encourage more of this behavior."

He laughed, raising his hands in surrender. "Too late."

I passed the next tweet to him, still trying to suppress my laughter. Hugh's eyebrows shot up when he read it. “Oh, wow, okay. ‘Hugh could literally break me in half, and I’d say thank you.’” He paused, a devilish grin creeping onto his face as he looked up at me. “I’m sensing a theme here.”

The crew behind the camera was howling at this point again, and I could barely breathe through the laughter. "I mean… who wouldn't be thankful?" I teased, raising an eyebrow at him.

Hugh laughed, leaning back in his chair, clearly enjoying himself. "Should I be concerned for you people, or…?”

"Concerned, maybe. Grateful, definitely,” I replied, still giggling.

He handed me the next card, his smirk widening. “Your turn. Let’s see if it gets wilder.”

I took the card and immediately had to press my lips together to keep from bursting out laughing. “Oh God, here we go again… ‘Y/n could ruin my life, and I’d thank her by paying her rent for the rest of the year.’ ”

Hugh’s laugh boomed across the room, his head falling back as he tried to catch his breath. “Well, if you’re ever looking for a side hustle…”

I gave him a playful nudge. "Hey, rent’s expensive in New York. I might just take them up on that."

He wiped away a tear of laughter, still grinning. “You’d definitely have no shortage of offers.”

Another tweet landed in Hugh’s hands, and he gave it a quick read before raising an eyebrow at me. “Oh jeez, we’re diving straight into the deep end now. ‘Hugh Jackman’s voice is so hot, I’d let him read the phone book to me while I climax.’”

My jaw dropped. "NO." I immediately covered my face with my hands, laughing so hard. I would lie, if I'd say my body doesn't hurt of laughter by now.

Hugh, ever the professional, barely flinched. He just gave the camera a deadpan look. “The phone book? Really? That’s a bit outdated, but… hey, I’m here for it.”

I peeked at him from behind my hands, still laughing uncontrollably. “You’re not gonna let that one go, are you?”

He winked at me, his voice dropping an octave. “If that’s what the people want, who am I to deny them?”

I playfully shoved him, still blushing furiously, but loving every second of the ridiculousness. “We need to talk about boundaries later." I joked.

He shot me a grin. “Boundaries? What are those?”

I took a deep breath, composing myself enough to grab the next tweet. The second I read it, I was gone again. “Oh, this one’s golden. ‘Y/n, I will pay you $1,000 to sit on my face. I don’t even need to breathe. Just consider it.’”

Hugh burst out laughing, clutching his chest and wiping tears from his eyes. “A thousand dollars? Only? That’s a bargain!”

I covered my face again, my shoulders shaking with laughter. “This is officially out of control.”

Hugh leaned in closer, his eyes dancing with mischief. “Come on. You’re underselling yourself. You’re worth at least $10,000.”

I laughed so hard I almost fell off my chair. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, babe.”

By this point, the crew behind the cameras was barely keeping it together. The laughter was contagious, and it felt like the entire room was on the verge of tears from how absurd the tweets were getting.

Hugh, still grinning, took the next card, glancing at it before giving me a cheeky look. "Alright, last one for me. ‘Hugh, you could crush me between your thighs, and I’d die a happy person.’”

I dissolved into laughter again, leaning back in my chair. "See, this is what I’ve been saying!" I managed between giggles.

Hugh turned to the camera, looking far too amused. “I’m sensing a lot of… very creative fans.”

I wiped away tears of laughter, still grinning. “Creative is one word for it.”

With that, the video wrapped up, and the crew finally stopped laughing long enough to give us a round of applause. Hugh’s charm and my endless giggling made for the perfect combination, and I could tell this video was going to go viral the second it dropped.

One of the cameramen approached us, grinning. “I’ve been doing this for years, and that was easily the funniest shoot I’ve ever been a part of.”

Hugh smiled, thanking him, while I nodded in agreement. “That was insane!” I said, still feeling the buzz of excitement. “I don’t think I’ve ever laughed that hard.”

After the shoot, we headed back to Hugh’s place to get ready for dinner. Ryan and Blake were coming over with their kids and dogs, and Hugh was in charge of cooking, much to his delight. He loved being in the kitchen, and it was one of those little things about him that always made me swoon.

While he started prepping in the kitchen, I disappeared into the bathroom to get ready. I slipped into something simple but nice, touching up my makeup before making my way back to Hugh. He had his back turned, fully focused on whatever he was chopping up, so I tiptoed up behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist, leaning my head against his back.

He jumped, clearly startled, but then relaxed into my embrace. "You nearly gave me a heart attack!" he chuckled, setting down the knife.

I grinned, squeezing him tighter. "Sorry, couldn’t resist." My hands slid over his chest as I pressed closer. "You look ridiculously good in that shirt, by the way."

He glanced down at himself - just a casual button up and jeans - but it worked for him in a way that made my heart race. “Oh yeah?” he asked, turning his head slightly to look at me with a playful smirk.

“Yeah. Like.. annoyingly good." I teased, letting my fingers linger on the fabric. “Distractingly good. It's kind of a problem.”

He turned fully then, wrapping his arms around my waist, and leaned in close, his voice low. “Maybe we should skip dinner then?"

I bit my lip, laughing softly as I pushed against his chest. "Nice try. We’re not blowing off dinner with Blake and Ryan. You know they’d never let us hear the end of it."

Before we could get any further into our flirt, the doorbell rang, and we both groaned. The Reynolds were right on time, of course.

With one last grin at each other, we reluctantly pulled apart. Hugh grabbed a towel to wipe his hands before we made our way to the door. When we opened it, we were greeted by a whirlwind of chaos - Ryan with the kids and Blake holding onto the dogs. It was loud and warm, the kind of energy that made you feel instantly at home.

Blake gave me a tight hug while Ryan and Hugh exchanged their usual friendly banter. We all gathered in the dining room, Hugh finishing up in the kitchen while Blake and I set the table, chatting and laughing about everything and nothing.

Dinner was filled with easy conversation, laughter, and the occasional bark from the dogs. Hugh caught my eye from across the table more than once, and each time, I couldn’t help but smile. This was our life now - full of love, friends, and shared moments that felt like they could last forever.

And honestly? I wouldn’t change a thing.

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

@spectorrrhgf @tinawantstobeadoll @appetencyfortacos @weskerussy @kellyxo1 @larkkyoris @shukirschtein14 @corvusmorte @carefree-flowerchild @rexmeshlasblog @melmel-fandom @needz1nk @nonamevenus @morganlolitta @angelofthorr @pickuptruck01 @inlovewithcharmers @gaulty74 @mega-kittyglitter-1

Next part

[slytherinshua]

ALL MY LOVE

genre. fluff. boyfriend headcanons. warnings. minghao dreams abt marriage and starting a family. not proofread and written while i'm sick and have half a braincell so i'm rly sorry if this is a mess. pairing. minghao x fem!reader. wc. 558. request. no. a/n. babe wake up slytherinshua is back skdjskd GOD IM SO HAPPY I WAS ABLE TO WRITE SOMETHING FINALLY 😭😭 thought this blog was literally gonna die cause writers block was so strong. also surprised it ended up being svt that broke through my block esp minghao but yk ill take it no complaints !!!!

boyfriend!minghao who’s a gentle, slow lover. he never rushes, but he also never leaves you with any doubt. he can read you like a book, and any concerns on your mind seem to be instantly resolved before you even have time to bring them up. he’s steady and true; your rock that you always know you can fall back on when things get tough. no matter what, he’ll always be there. he gives you a soft passionate type of love that you would never get tired of even after decades. 

boyfriend!minghao who’s always been ambitious. he has dozens of things he’d like to do and achieve, but he also knows how to take life slow and enjoy the present. he knows he has time to do everything he wants, and he reminds you that you also have plenty of time as well. sometimes you need that extra voice to tell you that it’s okay to take a break sometimes. it’s okay to breathe and think. no matter what, minghao will always be your biggest supporter— always rooting for you to strive and reach your goals, even if they are small.

boyfriend!minghao who helps you relax after a long day. warm tea and a massage are enough to put your mind and body at ease. his hands work like magic over your neck, shoulders, and back. it’s so good, in fact, that you feel guilty for not paying him for his service. he would never accept anything like that from you, though. once he’s done working out the knots for 20 minutes, he’d fall on top of you, giggling into the crook of your neck as he acts like your personal weighted blanket.

boyfriend!minghao who has a whole collection of couple items with you over the years. whether it be clothes, jewelry, or even mugs, everything he buys seems to come in a set of two. he can’t even imagine buying something for just himself anymore when you always seem to cross his mind whenever he spots something cute.

boyfriend!minghao who scolds you (but truly only out of love). his attention to detail and observant nature is both his strength and his flaw. he’s quick with his tongue— too quick— and will catch himself lecturing or correcting you when it wasn’t strictly needed. although it’s rare for his scolding to get on your nerves, as you know its a way he shows that he cares about you and loves you, it sometimes does. but he’s quick with his apologies as well, so no bickering between you two can ever last long. 

boyfriend!minghao who is so happy and secure in your relationship. he knows he’s found the one with you, and now that he’s been able to call you his for years, there’s no way he would ever be able to imagine his life without you. the overwhelming fondness he holds for you plants itself in his head and his heart and always has him thinking about your future together. he’d tell you randomly over tea how much he’s been thinking and dreaming about spending the rest of his life with you. whether it be big milestones like your wedding and starting a family, or smaller ones like waking up in each others arms each morning, he’s excited to experience it all with you.

↳ svt taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @kangtaehyunzzz,, @eternalgyu,, @ddeonudepressions,, @hannahsophie0103,, @minholing,,

@shuabby1994,, @icyminghao,, @98-0603,, @weird-bookworm,, @candewlsy,,

@wonwooz1,, @blossominghunnie,, @haecien,, @amara-mars,, @okshu,,

@parkjennykim,, @wootify,, @svtoose,, @seunghancore,, @ujisworld,,

@heavenfilm,, @sobun1est,, @bananabubble,, @talkingsaxy,, @thesunsfullmoon,,

@talking-saxy,, @nicholasluvbot,, @cupidslovearrows,, @50-husbands,, @hursheys,,

@gong-fourz,, @nonononranghaee,, @forever-atiny

[pastryfication]

Maybe pre wedding jitters with Nicole? She kind of steps in as your own mom for the day and reassures you that you're right for Oscar?

pre wedding jitters

pairing: oscar piastri x reader note: thank you so much for requesting this!! nicole would absolutely be the best mother in law

the soft morning light spills through the delicate curtains of the bridal suite, casting a warm glow over the room. you stand in front of the mirror, taking in your reflection in the dress you spent months dreaming about. the lace hugs your figure perfectly, the silk skirt flowing around you just as it’s supposed to. it’s everything you wanted, yet as you stand there, it all feels so overwhelming. today, you’re marrying oscar piastri—the man who’s been your best friend, your rock, and your biggest supporter for the last years.

but as the moments tick by, nerves begin to creep in. your heart races, your hands feel clammy, and suddenly, the reality of it all starts to weigh on you. you stare at your reflection, fidgeting with the delicate necklace oscar gave you on your last anniversary, feeling a wave of doubt you can’t quite shake.

the door creaks open softly, and you expect to see your mom or one of your bridesmaids, but instead, it’s nicole, oscar’s mom. she steps inside quietly, her face lighting up the moment she sees you. she’s always been more than just oscar’s mom to you—she’s been someone you’ve looked up to, someone who welcomed you into the family with open arms from the very start.

she immediately picks up on your nerves, noticing the way you’re wringing your hands and staring at yourself with uncertainty. she crosses the room, her steps quick and purposeful, and places a gentle hand on your shoulder. “hey, you look absolutely stunning,” she says softly, her voice full of warmth. “oscar is going to lose his mind when he sees you.”

you smile, but it’s wobbly, and you can feel the tears threatening to spill. “thank you, nicole. i’m just... i don’t know why i’m so nervous. i’ve been waiting for this day for so long, and now that it’s here, i’m suddenly terrified.”

nicole guides you to the chair by the window, sitting down beside you and holding your hand tightly in hers. “sweetheart, it’s completely normal to feel like this. this is a huge moment, and it’s okay to have a little freak-out.”

you nod, looking down at your lap. “i just keep thinking... what if i’m not enough? what if something goes wrong today, or what if—” you pause, the words getting stuck in your throat. “i love him so much. i just want everything to be perfect for him.”

nicole’s expression softens, and she squeezes your hand, her grip both comforting and strong. “you are more than enough. oscar has loved you since the moment he met you. i’ve never seen him light up the way he does when you’re around. you bring out this side of him that’s so pure, so full of joy. he’s happier, calmer, and more himself with you than i’ve ever seen him.”

she looks at you with a fond smile, her eyes brimming with affection. “i remember him calling me after your first date—he couldn’t stop talking about you. he’d found this person who got him, who made him laugh, who understood him in a way no one else ever had. and it wasn’t just how much fun you had together, it was how deeply he respected you, how much he admired the way you saw the world. he told me then, ‘mum, she’s the one,’ and he meant it with every part of his heart.”

tears slip down your cheeks as you listen, overwhelmed by the love nicole’s words carry. you always knew oscar loved you, but hearing it like this, from his mother, makes it feel even more real.

“and it’s not just that he loves you,” nicole continues, her voice full of certainty. “he’s proud of you. every time you accomplish something, he’s right there cheering you on, bragging to anyone who will listen. when you’re sad, he’s the first to comfort you. when you’re happy, his whole world lights up. he would do anything for you, and you would do the same for him. i don’t think he’s ever been surer of anything in his life than wanting to spend it with you.”

you take a shaky breath, feeling the warmth of nicole’s words seep into your heart. “i just . . . i can’t believe i get to have this. i can’t believe i get to have him.”

nicole smiles, brushing a tear from your cheek. “believe it, because he feels the same way. you’re his world. and today, when he sees you walking down that aisle, he’s going to be reminded of every reason why he fell in love with you. you make each other better, and everyone can see it.”

you laugh softly, a mixture of nerves and overwhelming happiness. “i feel like the luckiest person in the world.”

nicole pulls you into a hug, holding you tightly. “you two are so right for each other, and i’m so glad you found each other. this is just the start of a beautiful life together.”

as you pull away, nicole gives you a reassuring smile. “oscar is the luckiest man, and he knows it. he’s never loved anyone the way he loves you, and he never will. you’re his person.”

and as you look at yourself in the mirror one last time, the nerves are still there, but they’re quieter now, overshadowed by the joy of knowing you’re marrying a man who loves you more deeply than you ever thought possible. today is the day you get to say ‘i do’ to your best friend, and as you walk out of the room, you know you’re walking toward the greatest adventure of your life—with oscar by your side, forever and ever and always.

[blvdheart]

TIARAS AND TEACUPS

→ just some fluffy drabbles and headcanons on leon being a girl dad

NOTE: listen i don’t even want kids in the future but for this man?? if he was real and mine then trust i would change my mind real quick ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

this is pretty short, less than 1k words hehe

i.

Leon would never hear the end of it from his coworkers if they saw him like this. There was a plastic tiara with fake pink jewels resting atop his hair. He was sitting criss cross applesauce, for he was a little too big to sit on the tiny chairs his daughter had placed her plushies on.

“Daddy, here’s your cup!” She chimed happily, placing a small toy teacup right in front of him.

“Thank you princess, it’s a pretty set.” His hand could easily cover the entire cup, but to be graceful, he held the handle with his thumb and forefinger. “What’s on the menu?”

“Brownies and…and cookies.” She had a small container of them, having gotten some from the batch you baked the other night. “I’m gonna go get mommy, make sure Mrs. Teddy doesn’t drop her tea!”

Leon looked so out of place, but he was happy, watching with a smile as his daughter ran out of the room to go get you. And surely enough, you joined the tea party a couple minutes later, a matching headpiece on your head and your daughter giggling as she tugged you by the hand and took you to where she wanted you to sit.

You couldn’t help but stifle back a laugh when you saw Leon, and he seemed to catch on, grinning at you. “Look who’s late.”

“Fashionably late.” You corrected him as you pointed at your crown, taking a seat on the floor.

“Yay all my guests are here! I’ll hand out the food but don’t eat without me, okay?”

Leon was always emotional when he was in the same room as the two people he treasured the most.

He could still remember when his daughter was just a newborn baby. He almost broke down that day as soon as he heard her first cries, he never thought he’d get the blessing of parenthood.

ii.

If there’s one thing about Leon as a dad, it’s that he really has no backbone when it comes to his adorable daughter. Lecturing wasn’t his strong suit, he just wanted to spoil her. Thankfully, she didn’t have a knack for finding trouble so he didn’t have to worry all that much.

Here Leon was opening the letter he had gotten from his daughter’s elementary school, skimming through it only to see all the positive commentary the homeroom teacher had left. He was a proud father, and he took her on a trip to the store so she could pick out something nice.

“Don’t worry your little head about the price, okay? You deserve something special, you’re doing so well at school.” He gave her head a gentle pat, staying close behind her energetic form as she scanned the aisle for toys.

Toys. Great. Leon was sure he would sob when his little girl started asking for electronics and cosmetics. God, how he wished these years didn’t fly by so quickly. He had to make the most of them.

“Anything? Even a scooter?”

“Uh huh, even a scooter. Want one?”

“Yeah they’re awesome! Can we go look at them? I wanted to ask for one last Christmas but it was really cold so I wouldn’t have even been able to play outside much to use it. But it’s almost summer now so it would be nice and…”

She continued rambling on and on while Leon smiled happily. He held her hand and walked her over to where the scooters and bikes were.

Though he was a little concerned. What if she fell one day and scraped her knee? Or what if she hit her ankle with the scooter? Worst pain ever. Either way, he’d have to buy her a helmet and some knee pads.

Being a dad was kinda stressful.

iii.

Leon would try to be there for major milestones as much as possible. Yeah, sometimes he couldn’t be there because of the spontaneity of his demanding job, but he made sure to make everything worthwhile when he was present.

Whenever her birthday came up, he’d let Sherry babysit her for a few hours so she wouldn’t be at the house while you and him were decorating the place.

“Our little girl is growing up so fast. She’s already wanting to sit in the passenger seat, can you believe that?”

“You big ol’ softie.” You laughed a bit at his sulking, but you felt the same way, going over to hug him and comfort him. He held your hips, nuzzling against the crook of you neck. He loved you so much, he’d know nothing about happiness without you.

“I think I finally understand what the adults in my life would say when I was younger.”

“And what’s that?”

“That when you’re a parent, your children don’t really get older in your eyes. Yeah she’s about to turn ten but…she’s still our baby girl. I feel like she’s still three.”

HEADCANONS

𐙚 Leon would definitely be the type to look up some tutorials on YouTube so he could learn how to do his daughter’s hair. Doesn’t matter if it’s straight, wavy, or really curly. He’ll get all the products and get as much practice as possible

𐙚 For bedtime stories he’d just make up child friendly versions of his missions. B.O.W’s would become dragons, he’d be some sort of knight, and the setting would be a magical forest instead of some isolated and creepy location. And of course there’d be a happily ever after. In a way, this also helps him cope with his experiences

𐙚 Even in a modern world where cards are used more than cash (much to his dismay), he carries around lots of quarters just in case his daughter wants to get something out of a sticker or candy vending machine

[writtenbyan-aries]

Summary: After years of being split apart from your group, due to being taken and relocated by the Saviors, you run in to not only one familiar face, but specifically, the one you were searching for this whole time.

Warnings: strong language, apocalypse setting, swearing, mentions of knives, guns, bows, other weapons, mentions of killing (both humans and zombies), some descriptive text, reader gets taken by the saviors, mentions of scars, fighting, AGE GAP - friends to lovers, reader likes Daryl, Daryl hides the fact that he likes reader, some flirting, nothing too spicy lol

Word count: 4.9k | not edited also my first Daryl fic so be nice :)

A/N - I’m writing this for me, yes, but I’m also this for the ones who have a problem, I mean… are attracted to men old enough to be their father, so please do NOT read if age gap relationships make you uncomfortable! This also is more or less my version of the walking dead, the group meets Negan, but not like in the show.

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ᖭི༏ᖫྀ

ＦＩＶＥ • ＹＥＡＲＳ • ＡＧＯ

There was no denying that you were Daryl’s favorite person to go on runs with, anyone that just showed up could tell you that.

You were fast. Efficient. Very get in and get out type of girl. You didn’t fuck around, and Daryl loved that - but he’d never tell you that himself.

He also swore to never tell you that he wanted you around him because you made him happy in ways that he didn’t really like to talk about.

You were like a breath of fresh air to him, you picked up what he liked and what he didn’t like almost right away, you were one of the very few people that he didn’t get tired of being around all the time, hence why you join him every time he goes on a run.

He wasn’t much of a talker, the very first two runs together, you got a few mumbles out of him, mainly telling you where to go and when to look out.

But, that was until your third run of many run with Daryl. It would be silent, and he would almost scare you with just talking outright.

It wasn’t more than a, ‘how’s your day?’

Or maybe a, ‘ya sleep last night? Y’look tired’

You would always give him a quick, straight to the point response, ‘tossed and turned all night, might need a new blanket or somethin’

Or you would tease him slightly with something along the lines of, ‘Days better now that I’m out runnin’ around with my bestie.’

He says he hated when you called him that, but he would always chuckle and try to hide his smile by pointing out something ahead.

You would go with it, rolling your eyes subtly before you squint, “Daryl, I think you’re seeing things.” You look over at him, “or you’re just scared to talk to me.”

He’d scoff, “Ain’t scared of nothin’, darlin’.”

All you could do was smile and look away, mainly to hide the red on your cheeks from being spotted.

It really wasn’t that Daryl was scared, it was just, as slightly embarrassing as he thinks, he didn’t know how to talk to you.

He would always try to remind himself that you aren’t this delicate little flower, you can handle yourself. If you couldn’t, he would have never stumbled upon you.

You both would keep moving, not really stopping unless a walker or something came out of the tree line. The more runs you added to the list, the more you realized that you were patient enough to wait on him.

You really did have all the time in the world.

Were you also young and twenty one years old? Sure. But in this world, you’d always like to think, What’s it matter, really?

You had to roll with what you found, and you got lucky that day Daryl found you under a fallen tree - long story short, he helped you out and as soon as he knew your name, he couldn’t help but want to bring you home with him.

And that’s what he did.

Daryl has also spoken, well, more or less make comments to Rick about the girl from the woods. He’d beat around the bush as his eyes followed you across the way, watching as Carol showed you around, “y’know that girl I brought in?”

Rock would nod, “Y/n?”

A smirk would play sure Daryl’s lips as he replays you taking out two walkers at the same time, “Little young, though. Ain’t she?”

Rick shook his head, giving Daryl’s shoulder a squeeze as he stood up, “You deserve what ever makes you happy, Daryl. We make our own rules now.”

——

“There was a convenient store on the corner of one of these roads.” You look at Daryl then glancing behind you, “I figured.. if we don’t find it today.” You glance back and then forward, “We can try and hit it another day.”

“Would ya stop fuckin’ doin’ that?” He looks behind you and then at you, “really freakin’ me out today, y/n. What’s goin’ on with ya?”

“Sorry.” You sigh, shaking your head, “I just have this really weird feeling like we should have just stayed back today.”

“You wanna go back?” Daryl stops as you take a few steps ahead before turning around. He nods back, “We’re not that far away, if y’feel safer goin’ back-“

“I’m not letting you go out there alone.”

“I’m not goin’ back.” Daryl was stubborn, but so were you, “Then so am I.”

He scoffs quietly, shaking his head as he nudges you with his elbow, indicating you to walk with him. You turn, staying a little bit closer to Daryl as you make your way down the road.

About an hour away, you stand up from the last of the boxes in a semi fallen down shed, “Nothing.” You turn to Daryl and he shakes his head, “Got the same over here.”

“No where?” You look around the room and he shrugs, “should prolly just head back, it’s gonna get dark here soon.”

The weird feeling you had from earlier returns and you sigh, “Not to be annoying, but I can’t shake this feeling.”

Daryl clenches his jaw, “Alright, it’s alright.” He picks up his crossbow, “C’mon now.”

It’s the way Daryl makes your heart warm with the simple, nonchalant ways he makes sure you’re okay, trying to make sure you’re calm without actually letting you know that that is what he’s doing, but you know.

You’ve come to know Daryl better than anyone in the few short months you’ve been at Alexandria.

“Did somethin’ happen or, what?” Daryl asks as he glances over at you, trying to keep up with your slightly faster pace.

You shrug, “I just feel like something is going to happen, Daryl.” You look over at him, “Something bad.”

——

Your feeling was proven to be worth something because the moment you entered through the gates, you were gunned down, Daryl, too.

“Gimme your guns.” A tall man says in a sing-songy tone as he bends down, looking you right in your face, “And your cross bow.” He looks over to Daryl and Daryl wasn’t going to give it up without a fight.

The man stands up, walking over to lean down in Daryl’s face, “Now.”

“Y/n. Do it.” Rick says catching your attention. Only your eyes move towards Rick, hands up as a gun is pointed right next to his temple, “Daryl. You, too.”

“I’d listen to your boss man, alright. I don’t feel like killing anyone today, which is..” the man tilts his head, scratching at his temple, “Odd, but anyone. Consider this your one time act of kindness because I can promise you, from here on out, ain’t gonna be purdy.”

You tilt your head, taking your gun from your shoulder and laying it down. You take your pistol and set it down next to the rifle, “That’s all I have.”

“Mm.” The man tilts his head, “I don’t believe you.” He grips your bicep hard, causing you to yelp as he yanks you forward and onto your feet.

“Let her fuckin’ go!” Daryl yells, and you know he’s already trying to get up, but the moment you get to look back, there’s a gun in his face, blocking his view of you.

You’re thrown up against the side of the old and dusty moving truck, groaning as your head ricochetes off the side with a thump, “Fuck, ow!”

You bring your hand up, pulling it away to see red when you feel a wetness on your skin.

“You mother fu-“ Daryl starts to yell, but the man puts a gun to your temple, “I’m just trying to do my job, now shut the fuck up or I’ll really give you something to fucking yell about.”

You keep your eyes on Daryl, watching as his eyes quickly move between you and the man holding you hostage.

“I’ll keep it professional.” He taps your shoulder, “Arat. Come check her for weapons.”

You were scared shitless.

You didn’t want to die, or anyone else to die.

Who are these people, you thought as the woman behind you slid her hands roughly over your body, “Simon. This is her.”

You head shot up as Simon, supposedly, laughs, “No fucking way.” He steps back, “Negan is going to love this.”

“Who’s Negan?” Rick asks and Simon turns around slowly to look at Rick, arms spreading out to his sides slowly, “We’re all Negan.”

Simon points to you with his thumb, “Load her up.”

The uproar that happens within your people is instant and there’s a shot fired into the air, making you flinch.

“That’s e-fuckin’-nuff.” Simon yells, “The girl is coming with us, and there’s-“ he raises his voice, “Nothing you can do about it.”

He walks you back to the truck, motioning with his gun for you to get in.

You take one last look at Daryl before you start to get in, heading Simon chuckle as he sighs, “Maybe you’ll see her again, maybe you won’t. We’ll be back with more orders. Until then, stay the fuck here or more we will kill your beloved.. whatever she is to you.”

Simon looks at Daryl, “You got that Robin Hood?”

Daryl holds his heated stare onto him and that’s the last thing you see before the door shuts.

——

“Well, well, fuckin’ well. What do we have here?” A deep voice boasts from behind you. You wiggle your wrists and close your eyes, feeling a presence move around you to your front.

You open your eyes and you’re met with a rugged dude in a leather jacket, a baseball bat that’s wrapped in barbed wire tightly secured in his fist, “You must be the girl who knows her way around those dead fucks out there.”

“What are you talking about?” You look up, eyes meeting the tall, older man and he just chuckles, “A few of my men saw you take on a group, I dunno, five or six deep..” he points to you with each word, “..All. on. your. own.”

You shrug, “I’ve been out there a while.”

“And how longs a while, sweetheart?” The man asks, squatting down in front of you.

“Two years with a group, three on my own.” You say quietly, your brain reminding you about the night had no other choice but to go off on your own.

“Holy shit.” The man shakes his head, “You hearin’ this shit, Simon?”

“Arat said it was her. I can get Gavin to confirm, too.” Simon answers and the man nods, standing up to pull a chair over in front of you, “If I untie you, you promise you’ll play nice?”

You were disgusted. You wanted to go home.

You wanted Daryl. You wanted Daryl more than anything.

You nod, hands gripping the arm rests as his knife slides between your skin and the rope, flicking the blade upward to get it to cut open.

He repeats it to the other side and leans back, “You seem like you have a pretty name.” He tilts his head, fingers rubbing over the stubble on his chin, “Do you have a pretty name, sweetheart?”

“Y/n.”

“Y/n.” The man repeats in a whisper, “Damn. That is pretty.” He shakes his head, smirking as his eyes take in your, very nervous figure sitting in the chair, “Look.”

The man leans forward, “I’ll tell you this, alright.” You keep your eyes off of him, which seemed to upset him. His voice grew louder and his hand reached up to tightly grip your chin, “Look. At. Me. When I am talking to you.”

You force your eyes to his and he picks up speaking where he stopped, “You’re a little spit fire out there, okay. Which mean, you’re a delicacy to your little asshole groupies back at that shithole, what was it called? Alex- some for bullshit?”

“Alexandria.” You mumble out, keeping your eyes on his. He tilts his head back, his hand still gripping your chin, “Oh, oh. Right. Yes. Alexandria.”

The door behind you opens and the man drops his hand, “Gavin, my man. I need you to tell me if this is the girl you say in the woods a few weeks ago.”

The man stands up, spinning the chair around for, presumed, Gavin to see you. His eyes move over your body, “Does she have a tattoo or some sort of mark on the back of her left arm?”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“When she lifted her arm, it-“

“Lift your arm for me, sweetheart.” The man spins you towards him and you have no other choice but to oblige, you strongly feel that the other choice is death, which you can not allow to happen now.

You pull your shirt sleeve up and the man scoffs, “Bing-fucking-o.” The man shakes his head, “Get a team together, we’re going to meet the people of Alexandria earlier than expected.”

He looks to you, “Take her up to a room. A good room. She hasn’t done anything to not deserve it yet.” He winks at you and you look down as you feel a hand grab your bicep to lift you to your feet.

“Do you have any questions for me?”

You stop, turning to look at the man with the baseball bat resting on his shoulder, “Who are you?”

“Oh, sweetheart.” He walks over, tilting his head as he looks down at you, “I’m Negan.”

——

Your first day here was scary. You cried yourself to sleep, worried both about Daryl and the rest of Alexandria.

By the next morning, You were itching to get out, constantly looking for a way to escape, but they had so many people, no matter where you looked, you had eyes on you at all times.

To your surprise, the last week you spent with what you heard them call themselves, The Saviors, wasn’t in a stone cell like you pictured them doing the second you left that room on the first day.

You really didn’t know why.

You kill zombies, big deal. Doesn’t everyone else on this fucked up planet?

“Come with me, honey pie.” Simon says as he pulls you along with him, “Your time to shine.”

You’re taken outside, squinting at the brightness of the sun shining down from above. You couldn’t help but take a deep breathe, it’s the first time you’ve been outside in days.

“Get in and scoot over.” Simon commands and you climb up into the truck, your eyes meeting Negan’s as he steps up to sit into the passengers seat.

You don’t say a word to him. You just face forward as Simon smooshes you between him and Negan as he closes the door.

“So you and Robin Hood, huh?” Simon asks, referring to Daryl. You shake your head in response.

“Listen, sweetie. One thing we do around here, is answer people questions, with the words we learned how to speak. Got it?”

“Yes sir.” You say, clearing your throat, “No, me and.. Robin Hood are not a thing.”

“Seems to care about you like he does. You catch onto that Negan? The way he wanted to rip your throat out yesterday?” Simon chuckles, “Aw the look in his, man. I tell you what though, if looks could kill, you would have been dead.”

“Gonna have to take more than a nasty look to kill me.” Negan chuckles deeply, “Oh looky here.” He points, looking over at you as he sings, “honey.. we’re home.”

Your heart was racing as you seen Rosita motion to open the gate.

You watch her face shift into a shocked look when she caught glimpse of you through the windshield.

As you drive in, coming to a stop, you already see Daryl, front and center with Rick.

“C’mon.” Simon motions to you and you slide over, allowing him to help you down before you follow him around the truck. He pulls you closer to him, the click sending a shiver down your spine.

“Alright. Here’s the deal. You all want your badass, Duffy the zombie slayer black, but I don’t know.” Negan glances back at you, “She could be useful to me.”

You see Rick tighten his grip on Daryl’s vest and you send him a loving look.

“That thought didn’t even cross my mind, but you know what, how about this, If you want y/n back, give us half of your food today, and I want, we’ll make it easy.. ten guns by next week.”

“T-ten guns?” Rick asks baffled, “by next week? Negan that’s.. don’t you think that’s a little impossible?”

“Fine, make it fifteen by Friday, or you can say goodbye to the only chance you all actually have at surviving.” Negan points to you, “As you can she, she’s alive and well, now.”

Negan motions to the truck, “Let’s go.”

You shake your head and Simon grabs your arm roughly and you pull back, letting your fear get the best of you, “No, please. Nono, please no! No!”

Your pleads only set everyone on your side off, yelling and trying to push past the wall of Saviors.

Knives are drawn and you’re held to Negan’s chest, “Listen here! I make the rules. I have something you want and now, you’re going to go off and fuckin’ get me what I want. I’m done negotiating.”

“Negan, please. Just let y/n stay an I pro-“

Negan cuts Rick off, “You promise what, Rick? Huh? You already doubted yourselves with getting ten-“ He gasps, “Sorry, I mean fifteen by next Friday.”

He laughs, shaking his head, sighing as he brings his bat, Lucille, next for your face, “what makes you think you can handle the load of getting this thing here back.”

Daryl’s eyes squint as Negan calls you, this thing.

You swallow, glancing around.

You can take on six walkers, but not this many saviors, the walkers didn’t have rifles pointed at the people you’ve come to love and care for.

“Why are-“ Negan scoffs, “Why are we even still discussing this? You know what. Fine.” He pushes you to the back of the truck and you stumble, silently begging for help.

“If you’re going to cause this big of a fuss instead of just doing as I say..” Negan looks at you, “Then no one can.”

He shrugs, pointing Lucille at the open back, “Get in, or I kill someone.”

——

Ｐ Ｒ Ｅ Ｓ Ｅ Ｎ Ｔ • Ｄ Ａ Ｙ

You held your breath as you pushed your back up against the tree, waiting for the stray walker to move past you, knife at the ready just in case.

You slip around the tree, opposite way from the dead before you continue your journey through the woods.

It’s been, almost five years since you were left stranded in the middle of god knows where by Negan and his Saviors.

You weren’t even sure if they were still a thing or not, but jokes on them, you’re still alive.

And you’re full of fight.

You stopped at the river, bending down to feel the cool water on your fingertips. You’ve been walking all day, and you just needed to take a second.

You look up, taking in the scenery for a few moments before it all starts to becomes, familiar.

You stand up, looking around as your heart starts to pound. You shake your head, laughing slightly as you bend down to grab your bag.

If this is the river you were thinking of, then this river runs directly past your grandfathers cabin, and you can only hope that if Daryl was alive and out there looking for you, that he comes this way.

He should know about this, you stumbled upon it while on a run the one day. You remember about it, but all you knew was that it was next to the river that looked really pretty when the sun was setting, and it still does.

You only had about two hours of sunlight left, and you didn’t know how far you had to go yet, or even if you were going in the right direction.

If this cabin was here, maybe you could finally get a decent nights sleep, that is if it isn’t destroyed by walkers and the storms that plow through.

“I’m going to go get some more firewood.” A woman’s voice sounds through the trees. You stop, moving, furrowing your brows as you try and listen, but she’s already moving, walking away from the small building.

Your cabin.

You feel like you could throw up.

You turn around, trying to see if you can get a glimpse of who she was talking, too, but nothing.

“Raise your hands and turn around slowly.”

You whip around, catching her off guard before her face settles, “Holy shit.” Carol laughs slightly, “Daryl is going to lose his mind.”

She pulls you into a hug and you hear her sniffle, “oh my god, look at you.” She leans back, hands sliding over your hand and down your face, “You grew up.”

You smile slightly, your mind going back to who’s in the cabin, “Is he in there?”

“Every chance he got.” She shakes her head, “So much has happened.” You see the pain in her eyes but you opt to keep things happy right now, “we can talk later. I want to see Daryl first.”

She nods, brushing hair from your face, “Im so happy you found your way back.”

“It was hell, but right now, totally worth it.” You take a deep breath, “You go in first.”

She nods, walking a head of you as she leads you back towards the cabin, “Hey Daryl.” Carol calls as she smaller back at you, “I found something that you’re going to want to see.”

You stand by the fire, the glow illuminates you as you stand there waiting to see his face for the very first time in five years.

The feelings you had, never went away.

“What’d ya fi-“ His face falls and his arms go limp by his sides as he shakes his head, “No fuckin’ way.”

Tears well up in your eyes as Daryl slowly steps down off the porch, “No fuckin’ way.” He looks at Carol and back to you before quickly making his way over to you.

“Where the hell ya been?” He grabs you, pulling you into his chest tight, “I thought you were dead, I-.” He leans back, looking over your slightly older looks.

“Negan told us that he watched you get attacked by walkers.” Carol chimes in, finishing what Daryl couldn’t, “He brought back your necklace, there was blood on it.. we didn’t..”

You keep your hands on Daryl, your fingers moving under the sleeve of his jacket, “Negan snapped that necklace off my neck before they dumped me in the middle of nowhere.”

Daryl scoffs, pulling you closer to rest his chin on your head. Carol smiles as she watches the affectionate radiate off of him.

“They drove me way past the city, too. I don’t know. I’m pretty sure they drugged me or something because I was out for most of the trip.”

You feel Daryl’s grip tighten with your words and you shake your head, laying a hand on his bicep, “So much happened.”

You think back to all the stuff you had to do just to make it back to here, cringing at yourself.

“Ya hungry?” Daryl asks changing the subject and you nod, “Starving.”

——

Since the minute you found them, Daryl hasn’t left your side, and Dog right by his.

You were able to handle the news of the deaths and destruction among your group and homes, it hurt to hear, but it’s better that you know how than walking in expecting everything to be all sunshine and rainbows.

ou cried, but there was one question you needed the answer to.

“Are the Savior’s gone?” You looked up at Carol as she looks to Daryl. Your attention moves to him and he nods, “Ah, yeah. Yeah. But..”

“What?”

“Negan is at Alexandria.”

You’re on your feet, “What.”

“It’s only tem-“

You turn, walking away from Carol as she tries to explain, but you walk over to a tree, pressing your hand into it.

As you take a few deep breathes, you feel someone walking up to you, “I just need a minute.” You tilt your head, closing your eyes as you swallow the feeling of wanting to puke away.

“S’alot to process.” Daryl mumbles, unsure of what to do, “Take your time.”

Do you resent him now?

Are you going to leave again?

He wanted you to know everything, but he wouldn’t have if that meant you leaving again.

“Daryl?” You wave your hand in front of his face and he blinks, “Sorry I just..” he shakes his head, “please don’t leave me again.”

“Leave you again?” You laugh slightly, letting out a sigh, “Why would you think that I’d leave you? I’ve been looking for you.”

“I haven’t stopped. I came here because I-“

You smirk slightly, “Because you actually paid attention to your bestie?”

He gives you a small smirk, shoulders heaving as he laughs ever so slightly, “You’ve changed..” Daryl brushes his hand over your hair, his thumb gently brushing over your face, His brows furrow, “when did you get this?”

His finger brushes over the scar on your top lip, “Did someone do this t’you?”

“One of those assholes that pushed me out of the car, hit my face on a rock.” You shake your head, “It’s just a scar, Daryl.”

Which was one of many you have received.

“Sorry I-“

“Don’t. Don’t do that.” You shake your head, “What happened to me wasn’t your fault, okay.”

All he does is nod but you frown slightly, “Have I ever told you that I liked you?”

“I don’t think you’d come on runs with me if ya didn’t.” Daryl looks at you and you tilt your head, “No, like..” you bite your lip and sigh.

He laughs slightly, “M’old enough to be your daddy, y/n.” You smirk up at him, getting ready to say something but he pulls you towards him, “Watch out.”

Natural instinct, you have your knife in your hand within a second and you both swing around, the blades of your knives entering the dead’s skull in unison.

You look at the knives and back to Daryl, “Either way I look at it.” You pull your knife from the walker, “You and I will always have unfinished business to take care of.”

Daryl shakes his head as he withdrawals his knife, “You think?”

You lay your hand on his chest, “I know.”

You couldn’t let yourself feel what you’ve pushed through, but both Carol and Daryl can see that.

“Hi, boy.” You bend down to pet Dog, your shirt riding up to reveal a slightly bigger scar than on your lip. Daryl’s eyes fixate on it right away and he clenches his jaw.

Before he can ask, you stand up, “You fix up everything?”

“Yeah, go take a look.” Daryl sniffles and walks towards Carol as you walk into the cabin. Memories of growing up here flood through, almost breaking that barrier until Dog pushes between your legs, whining as he trots in.

“Do you need anything?” Carol asks walking up beside you. You shake your head, hesitating to look over at her at first, “No, no. I’m good.”

“We can head back to Alexandria in the morning.” She rubs your back, “It’s really good to have you back.”

You smile, nodding, “It’s really nice to not be alone.”

“What happened out there?”

You shake your head sluggishly, “I don’t-“

“Okay.” She says quickly as Daryl walks in. You look up at him, “I think I’m going to go lay down.” You walk over to where your bag is and sit down.

You bring your knees to your chest, eyes focusing on Dog as he glows in the light of the fire.

A few moments later, Daryl’s footsteps move closer to you. He stays silent as he moves to sit next to you. He brings his arm out, laying it around your back as he pulls you into his side.

You immediately fall into him, your head on his chest, arm around his torso. He inches back, just enough to lean against the wall for support.

Daryl looked down at you, gently playing with strands of your now long hair, it was just a little past your shoulders when you were separated.

You lost weight from having to scavenge for any food that was safe to eat.

He knew what you went through was tormenting you, he just wanted you to know that you aren’t alone.

“Look at me, y/n.”

You roll over into your back, head in his lap as you stare up at him.

“When you’re ready to tell someone, m’here f’ya.”

You close your eyes as his hand strokes over your hair. You haven’t felt this safe in a while, so you were just trying to soak it all in without having to worry every single second of the day and most nights.

“I love you.” Daryl whispers, “Should’ve told you that years ago.”

“It’s about time you say those words to me, Daryl Dixon.” You sit up, keeping your chest on his arm as you lean in, “I love you.”

——

I started to hate this towards the end but I NEEDED to get this off of my chest. I hope you enjoyed. As always, I love you so much. Thank you for reading! 🖤

likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!