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[blackjackkent]

Fic request, BG3: Karlach/fem Tav, where Tav has died. After the reserection scroll is used, Karlach goes to pieces. Hurt/comfort.

Eyyyy, ty for the prompt! Sorry this took me a little while to turn around. :D Was fun to write, though; I do love me some Karlach romance and some hurt/comfort. <3 I hope you like!

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“You hear that?” Tav asks. The half-elf’s eyes narrow, glinting in the pale light of the moonlantern that is all that protects them from the cursed shadows. “Hold on a sec.”

Karlach halts obediently with the others and listens intently. Her head tips slowly to one side like a dog pricking up its ears, and her eyes drift half-closed in focus. But there's nothing. 

The shadow-cursed lands are, in fact, eerily quiet. The place is not only devoid of civilization but life - there's no sound of birdsong, no creatures creeping through underbrush, no leaves or plants of any kind. There's not even a stirring of breeze to knock together the dried branches of the long-dead trees. 

Karlach hates it. It reminds her too fucking much of the desolation of the Hells, dead and dry and full of dangers. Not nearly as hot as Avernus, she'll say that much for it, and dark as the inside of her boot. But still a little too close for comfort. 

“Don't hear anything, Soldier,” she says in a low voice. Astarion and Shadowheart both shake their heads as well. Then Karlach grins, an automatic reaction to the brief moment of tension. “Must've been my heart pounding, eh?” 

Astarion rolls his eyes. “Ugh. Gods,” he murmurs tauntingly. “Is that what passes for smooth in Zariel's army?”

Tav grins. “Shut up, Astarion,” she says, giving him a casual punch in the shoulder. 

“I'm just saying,” Astarion quips, “if we're going to have to watch the two of you give each other cow eyes every day of the week, you're going to have to come up with some better material.”

Karlach sticks her tongue out at him. “No one asked you, Fangs,” she shoots back. But she's laughing. It's really hard not to laugh these days, in spite of all the terrible shit happening to them. Astarion can mock all he wants - but she's in love, real love, for the first time in ten years. The first time maybe ever, truth told, because she can't remember any quick fuck back in the Gate that ever made her feel like Tav does. 

Tav is… gentle. Kind. When she touches Karlach it feels like the whole world is opening up to her, a feeling of hope like everything is gonna be okay. So yeah, Astarion can laugh all he wants, if it makes him feel better. Karlach really couldn't give less of a shit. 

She's happy. 

Too happy, as it turns out, because she's so lost in thinking these thoughts and watching the way Tav's smile looks in the lanternlight that she doesn't notice the first arrow coming in. 

-----

Tav’s scream is like a knife. Blood spatters across the dark ground as the arrow punctures her shoulder. 

A lithe, pale figure darts out of the shadows with a high-pitched giggle and throws something around Tav’s neck. Then in an instant she’s gone, vanished with the creature into thin air.

“Tav!” Karlach starts to shout - but it's choked off as another garrote bites sharply under her jaw and she's yanked backwards into the dark. 

It’s a horrific battle, one of the worst they’ve faced since the nautiloid. The meazels - little shits, every one of them - are quick and cunning, separating the party out into the searing darkness, silencing spells, bleeding them dry. Karlach doesn’t need spells, though, and her usual battle-rage is bolstered by a stunning degree of pain and an entirely unexpected violent panic. 

She wrenches her axe from the corpse of the meazel that grabbed her and tears off through the dark. Unheeding of both the blood pouring from her neck and the necrotic energy chewing into her skin, uncaring of what other enemies might hear her, she bellows at the top of her lungs. “Tav! TAV!”

“She’s here!” That’s Shadowheart, her voice weak. “Karlach, over here!”

Karlach almost trips, so quickly does she change direction towards the cleric’s call. Like a rothe maddened with fear, she leaves the path and crashes directly through the desiccated underbrush, dead plants shattering apart around her with every step.

Tav is dead when she gets there. 

Shadowheart is crouched over her, a useless healing spell in the process of drifting off her fingers. Astarion, blood dripping from his lips, crawls from the darkness opposite her. But Karlach’s eyes are locked on the form of Tav’s body in the dim light from her torch, the eyes blank and staring, the garrote wound flowing freely.

“Oh, no,” she whispers. “No, no, no, no--”

“It’s all right.” Shadowheart’s voice feels oddly far away. “I have a scroll, I’ll revive her-- Karlach, for gods’ sake, breathe!”

She is breathing - too fast, too shallow. The cut at her own throat throbs with each pulse of her heart. She drops the axe with a clang onto the ground and she falls on her knees at Tav’s side, grabbing the smaller woman’s hand and holding it between both of hers. “No, darling, no…” she mumbles. “Gods, don’t-- don’t look at me like that…”

How many dead people has she seen in her life? Could fill a library writing all their names down… But none of them have been her… those blank eyes are so wrong in her face which is always so full of life and humor and warmth… nothing like Karlach’s inferno heat but warmth and safety and home…

“Bring her back…” she rasps out desperately. “Please…”

The magic of the revivify scroll swirls around them as Shadowheart murmurs the words. There’s an achingly long pause during which Karlach finds herself reviewing every single moment of their brief time together and passing through every stage of grief in order; she’s just about reached “depression” when Tav’s eyes flicker open.

“K-Karlach?” she whispers, and then her body spasms around a sudden fit of coughing as she gasps for breath. 

“Oh, gods.” Karlach’s whole body sags with a relief as overwhelming as the grief was. Without thinking, she reaches out and pulls Tav up and into her arms, tight against the heat of her chest. “Oh, fuck… Soldier… Tav… shit…”

The words tumble out, one after the other, and she’s startled to realize that each of them is a sob, raggedly dragging out of her throat between hiccuped, jerky breaths. She’s alive. It’s not over. It’s not over. Oh, thank the gods…

“Hey. Ow. Hey…” Tav mumbles. It’s muffled from how Karlach has her pulled close; her face is sort of squished into Karlach’s shoulder. “It’s all right. Darling, it’s all right, but I can’t breathe.”

“Oh. Right.” She forces herself to loosen her embrace enough for Tav to draw her head back. “You-- sorry. Fuck. You scared me. I thought… I thought…” She can’t say it out loud. The words don’t come out.

“You’re hurt.” Tav gently touches the garotte wound in Karlach’s neck, wiping at the blood there.

“You died!” Karlach says with a sudden, hysterical laugh, flinching backwards. “Don’t worry about me! Just… you just sit there and… and breathe, or whatever, and… oh gods…” The tears blind her.

“Karlach…” Tav sits up in her lap. She’s unsteady, of course, because revivification is a brutal process at the best of times, but her eyes are clear. That hideous blankness is gone from them and they’re full again with the light that drew Karlach to her first. “Shhh.” She cups Karlach’s face gently with both hands and kisses her. “It’s all right… I promise. I’m here. All limbs attached, everything accounted for. And heart very much beating.”

Karlach gives her a watery smile, tries and fails to quiet her choked breathing into something manageable. “I just-- I saw you there… like that… and I suddenly realized… how much shit has gone wrong in my life… how it all changes so fast… but you’ve been good… you’ve been so fucking good, Tav…”

“I’m here. I’m here…” Tav presses her forehead to Karlach’s and draws a slow, shaky breath. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise. I promise…”

Slowly Karlach begins to settle again, feeling the gentle brush of Tav’s breath on her lips. It’s not over. “You’d better not,” she mumbles.

She realizes suddenly that they’re alone. Shadowheart has taken one of the torches and bodily dragged Astarion off some distance away, leaving them more or less in private. Karlach’s grateful for that; she’s not sure she could handle Astarion’s acerbic wit right at this moment.

“Fuck,” she whispers after a short pause, a little more calmly now. “Sorry, I--”

“Hey. Don’t you ever apologize for anything,” Tav says softly. “Least of all for loving me. You don’t get to say sorry for that.” She kisses Karlach again gently. “You ready to get Shadowheart to clean up that cut?”

“I… yeah. Yeah.” But it takes her a moment to loosen her arms and let Tav out of her embrace. “I do love you,” she says quietly. “So much. And I just got scared as shit about it.”

Tav smiles. “Best kind of scared I know,” she says. 

[kannouo]

Cold hands/feet

fandom: obey me pairing: demon bros & dateables x gn!reader warnings: none prompt by anon: stumbled upon your blog and just read your hcs about the obey me guys and halloween, your writing is lovely and fun<3 ! i was thinking, how do you think the obey me bros + dateables would react with a mc whose hands and feet get easily cold? like 'dawg who let this corpse out the morgue 💀' typa cold. and even if they wear socks or gloves, it never seems to help much. instead, it turns into cold sweat so now it just feels like touching a defrosting chicken (projecting on this one) anyways, hope you're having a lovely day/night. enjoy your next 24 hours :] A/N: ty for the request and the kind words <33 this was funny to write for as i actually have the opposite problem myself, i run really warm. some of these are considerably shorter than others, sorry.

LUCIFER

• Lucifer isn't a very touchy person. That and he usually wears gloves, so he'll take a much longer time to notice how cold your hands get than you might expect. The first time he notices would have to be when you initiate affection yourself, and he's in the right mood to just sit back and let you touch him.

• You're sat facing him on his lap and move your hand up to gently caress his face. It was just meant to be a sweet gesture, and it certainly wasn't anything to provoke him to jerk his head away in momentary surprise.

• "Lucifer?" You say his name, a little concerned at his reaction. He was just staring at your hands.

• "You're freezing," he stated, then met your eyes again. "Is the fireplace not warm enough for you?"

• Until you explain it's just naturally how your hands feel, he will assume that the House of Lamentation is somehow still too cold for a human, and that you, for some reason, neglected to tell him this whole time. Even when he understands the situation, he's still likely to bump up the temperature on the thermostat just in case.

• You might have felt hurt by his initial reaction to literally move away from your touch, but he reassures you he was just surprised. He doesn't actually mind it, he just wasn't sure if that was how human hands were supposed to feel.

• That, and Lucifer runs cold too. Even colder than you. You're unlikely to notice early in your relationship due to the gloves, but he perpetually feels like he's been out in the cold for far too long. You ask if it's "a demon thing" and he gives you a strange look.

• For all I've said about him not minding, do not put your cold ass feet on him if you're in bed together. You'll lose your Lucifer's bed privileges until you can prove to him you've learned from your actions and promise not to do it again.

It's a surprisingly peaceful evening in the House of Lamentation. You sit with your DDD in hand in front of the fireplace, mindlessly scrolling through your socials when you suddenly feel something freezing touch the back of your neck. You lurch forward in shock, rubbing the afflicted area as you spin your head around to catch the culprit. There stands Lucifer, a pleased smirk on his face as he casually fits his glove back on his right hand. "Lucifer!" In a split-second decision, you jump up from the couch and begin to chase after him, hand outstretched. If it's a war he wants, then it's a war he'll get.

MAMMON

• Notices pretty early on. If he still hadn't developed feelings for you by the time he noticed, he'd likely react a little too dramatically and make some sort of comment about how your hands feel like ice and will threaten you not to touch him again.

• He deeply regrets that choice of words later on though. Even if you are cold enough to make a weirdly convincing dead body, that doesn't mean he wants your affection and attention any less, but it's not like he'll tell you that straight up. He'll try to get you to start touching him again with vague (or what he thinks are vague) hints and just hope you catch on and give him what he wants.

• If you don't, he'll frustrated eventually. Will literally grab your hands and place them on his face so you're cupping his cheeks, grumbling the whole time about how stupid you are and how he has to do everything for you.

• "I thought you didn't want me to touch you again." You smile, running your fingers through his hair. He sputtered.

• "W—well, that—" He huffed and bit the inside of his cheek, shooting you a half-hearted glare. "—Whatever! That was a long time ago. Things change! And— I mean, I'm sure you've been wantin' to touch me this whole time, right? I'm just... bein' considerate."

• It's best not to call his bluff. He'll get embarrassed and pouty.

• Like Lucifer, is also lowkey concerned for your health, and isn't sure if it's normal or okay for humans to be so freezing all the time. He'll still complain all the same when the thermostat is turned up and tries his best to find a workaround, like buying you fuzzy socks and gloves to keep you warm instead so the temperature can go back down.

• Obviously, this doesn't work and just makes your hands and feet cold and sweaty. He concedes that he'll just have to deal with it.

• A perfect target for pranks using this. Suddenly shove your hands up his shirt or place your feet on his bare legs. He has such dramatic and whiny reactions but ultimately won't do anything about it — denying you affection is far more of a punishment for him than it is for you.

You sit, confused, as Mammon holds both of your hands in his. He cups them together and breathes into them, then rubs them against each other like you would do to keep yourself warm in a freezing climate. The only problem is, you're in a room with several functioning heaters. "...What are you doing?" You finally ask. He glances up at you, then goes right back to what he was doing. "I'm tryin' to help you," he says. "This'll warm ya right up, won't it? Then Lucifer can turn the thermostat back down. I'm basically boilin' alive in here!" That definitely isn't how this technique works, but... he seems too determined to stop now.

LEVIATHAN

• Same.

• Levi's hands are usually pretty clammy, but they're also always cold. If Lucifer's hands are "been outside for too long" cold, then Levi's are "freezing death-grip" cold. He doesn't even really notice it, as the rest of his body runs equally as chilly.

• It's an understatement to say Levi isn't all that into touch. It makes him extremely nervous, and the most he'll ever be able to muster without panicking internally is resting his head on your shoulder or intertwining your pinkie fingers together. Because of that, he either takes a very long time to realise or just doesn't at all.

• It's also pretty difficult for him to discern how cold your hands are when they're against his skin, which is just as frigid.

• He's unlikely to notice on his own. He'd only really figure it out if one of his brothers made a comment about your hands being freezing cold that he happened to overhear. Afterwards, he'd ask you if it was true, and would just nod and be like "huh" when you explain. Overall he doesn't care, because he can't even tell.

• Since you don't run cold in the same way he does, it still startles you whenever he puts an unexpected hand on your shoulder. It'll take some time for him to believe you when you say you only react like that because of the shock, and at first he ends up feeling bad and locking himself in his room whenever you jump away from his touch.

"Levi..." You frown, kneeling down in front of the Avatar of Envy, who is curled up and hiding his face from you. "You just surprised me, that's all..." You really hadn't intended to upset him. He tapped you on the arm to get your attention and the sudden chill made you flinch a little, that's all. But he seems to have taken it in the worst possible way. "N—no, I get it..." Levi says with that same defeated tone you were so used to from his self-deprecating monologues. "O—of course you wouldn't want to be touched by an ugly, yucky otaku like me..." "Levi, come on..."

SATAN

• Satan realised by pure chance. In the library together, you walked alongside him as he chattered away about any books he thought you might enjoy. Pulling one out from the nearest shelf, he handed it to you, telling you to read the blurb and tell him what you thought. You unintentionally brushed your hand against his as you did so.

• He didn't react immediately, waiting for you to finish skimming over the back of the book. Only then did he bring it up. "Are you cold?"

• Confused, you replied. "What?"

• "Your hands feel cold," he said. "If you are, I could lend you my jacket? I don't want you getting sick."

• As tempting and sweet as that offer was, you shook your head and explained your hands were just like that. To that, he nodded his head, apologised for assuming anything, and then proceeded to insist you take his jacket anyway. It's a romantic fantasy of his.

• He absolutely tries to buy you gloves, thicker socks and/or shoes. He's confused but understanding when you say they don't really work, and honestly doesn't mind as long as you reassure him the coldness of your hands and feet doesn't really bother you. He just doesn't want your hands to be achy and stiff all the time.

• Otherwise, he doesn't mind it. He'll hold your hand, kiss the back of your palm and allow you to be affectionate with him all the same. He might try to encourage you to shove your hands up Lucifer's shirt though. Just once.

• Don't do it to him though. Demon form instantly.

• Surprisingly, Satan usually doesn't care much about feeling your cold feet on him if you're cuddling together either, but it might irritate him if he feels it in the middle of the night when he's too tired to be fully logical.

"Satan, there's no way I'm doing that," you say as you stare down the demon in front of you, unimpressed. "He'll kill me." "He'd kill me, not you." You roll your eyes as you realise Satan clearly isn't giving up on trying to convince you to 'prank' Lucifer by shoving your hands up his shirt. With the amount of layers the first-born has, you aren't even sure if you'd be able to if you tried. "...If you do it, I'll take you to that cat cafe you liked." You eye him suspiciously. "...The one with Luna?" "The one with Luna."

ASMODEUS

• Asmo runs pretty warm. He has to, with how he spends hours out clubbing in the cold climate of the Devildom wearing as close to nothing as he can possibly get without being accused of public indecency. So you being cold to the touch is a bit of a shock to him.

• He had been begging you to let him do your nails all day until you finally caved. But just as he took your hand in his, he hesitated. "Darling, you're freezing. Why is that? My windows are all closed."

• "Oh... no, my hands are always like that."

• He pouted. "Poor thing. Well, once I'm done with your nails, how about you spend the rest of the day holding hands with dear old Asmo, hm? That should warm you right up! ♡"

• Insist all you want that it doesn't bother you or that you can't even feel it, he'll just act like he doesn't hear so he can continue to use it as an excuse to be all over you.

• It actually isn't that bad though. Being naturally warm, pressing your hold hands against his skin actually feels super nice, and he's always the one initiating it. He's impossible to scare by randomly putting your hands on him, too. He'll just react with a smile and a dirty comment.

• He'll buy or fashion fingerless gloves for you to try in the hopes it might be a little less suffocating than ones that cover your whole hand. They do work a little better, but you may or may not find them uncomfortable depending on your preferences.

• He keeps asking you to touch his back because he likes how your cold fingers feel against his skin, but only do so if you're prepared for him to let out a very exaggerated moan to embarrass you. Can and will do that shit in public.

You lean against Asmo, one hand under his shirt and resting against his side and the other clasped in his own. Every now and again he ducks his head down to place a kiss against your knuckles before resting his head back on your shoulder. The quiet added to the rare peaceful and serene moment, but just as you let your body relax... "Asmo!" You snatch your hand away when you felt him start to move your wrist further down his body. He giggles as you shove at his shoulder. "Honestly! You're insatiable! I'm leaving!" "No, no! Baby I'm sorryyy!~"

BEELZEBUB

• When Beel feels your cold hands brush up against him for the first time, he doesn't even ask questions in the moment. He straight-up drops his jacket on you right away and apologises when you nearly tumble to the ground from the weight of it.

• Beel is another one who will be very concerned. From what he's heard, humans emit natural body heat, and he's only ever heard humans be described as "cold to the touch" when they've been out in bad weather for too long or if they're dead. And he knows for a fact you've been inside all day, so... Are you dying, MC?

• He tries to believe you when you say it's natural and nothing to be so worried about, but he just can't help it. His hands are calloused and rough from centuries of playing sports, so he's hardly bothered by the chill of yours and will just hold them whenever he can to try and "warm you up".

• Is convinced that eating warm food and drinking hot beverages will help. Even if you don't actually feel cold, he might still insist you drink the hot chocolate because he's uneasy.

• He's overprotective by nature. If you can get him to loosen up and stop fretting, he'll apologise for having worried so much. He doesn't want you to be annoyed with him for overreacting about something you're so used to and consider totally normal.

• Is totally fine with you placing your hands or feet on him. He doesn't even react most of the time. You're convinced he can't feel it.

"Beel, honestly, I'm fine..." "But..." He glances between you and the cup of tea in his hands. He can't look at the drink for too long though, or he starts to feel the urge to chug it himself. He can't do that — it's supposed to be for you. "Please? A hot drink is always best on a cold day." "We're in a heatwave..." You sigh, unable to argue any further. Giving in, you take the cup from his hands. "Fine, I'll drink it. But I'm telling you, there really is nothing wrong."

BELPHEGOR

• To be blunt, he isn't a fan.

• He's been right on the cusp of falling asleep only to be startled awake by your freezing hands and feet touching him as you crawl into bed way too many times. He isn't against you cuddling him completely — you're still a good cuddle-buddy, in a "cold side of the pillow" way — but he would like you to keep your hands above his clothes and your feet to yourself. Thanks.

• Aside from Mammon, he's also likely to complain about the thermostat temperature being turned up by Lucifer, which in turn causes Beel to complain on his behalf. He keeps waking up after long naps all sweaty and hot... eugh.

• On the bright side, him being too warm means he'll suddenly switch up on your cold hands. Suddenly, he loves the feeling of them against his skin, and needs you by his side to cool him down while he sleeps.

• Joins Satan in encouraging you to shove your hands up Lucifer's shirt. Do it. Just once. Unfortunately for Satan however, Belphie is a little traitor, and will also go behind his back to tell you to do it to him right after.

• A complete hypocrite. If you pull the same stunt on him he'll make the most exaggerated pouting face you've ever seen and go complain to Beel about you. If you look at him while he's doing so, he'll give you a shit-eating smirk when Beel isn't looking.

• Gets you matching fuzzy socks. He knows they don't really work in keeping your feet warm throughout the day, but asks you to at least keep them on when you two cuddle, so you can match with him and he can avoid any rude awakenings.

The fourth-born had been absent for not five seconds when Belphie scoots over on the couch to whisper in your ear. "When Satan comes back," he pauses, stifling a yawn. "Shove your hands up his shirt. Like you're going to do to Lucifer." You give him a look. "Why would I do that?— And I never agreed to do it to Lucifer." "It'll be funny," he grins lazily. "Look, he's coming back. If you don't do it, I'll grab your wrists and do it for you, you know..."

DIAVOLO

• Diavolo doesn't just run warm, he runs hot. Almost uncomfortably so. Never expect to be able to cuddle with this guy without getting sweaty.

• When he first feels your cold hands, he either assumes humans are just naturally so frigid or goes the Lucifer route and does everything he can to increase the temperature of RAD and the palace to prevent you from being so cold. After one absolutely sweltering day at RAD, you asked Diavolo what was going on and why it was suddenly so blisteringly hot.

• "I raised the temperature as much as I could to make it more comfortable for you!" He flashed you a big, proud smile. "Come now, let me feel your hands. It should be better for you now, yes?"

• "Ah... why are they still cold?"

• He means well, really, but he's very confused. He becomes more understanding once it's explained to him and thankfully turns the temperature back down. You swore all of your classmates were seconds away from murdering one another just from the humidity alone.

• It's not like you have the guts to do it anyway — and if you did, Barbatos would stop you — but in case you were curious, he also doesn't react to the feeling of you suddenly putting your hands on him. Like Asmo, he actually thinks the chill of your fingers is quite nice.

• He might offer to hold your hands in his whenever you're sat next to him because he's fully aware of how warm he is in comparison to you. It warms you up and feels pretty good.

RAD student council meetings are usually quite dull. Unless they were in preparation for some kind of event, in which case you could expect the opposite problem — all the brothers would be bickering amongst themselves so loudly that it felt like all the energy had been drained out of you by the time you returned home. Today, however, was on the quiet end of things, and you were just waiting for it to be over. You sit next to Diavolo, cheek resting on your hand as you idly tap the table with the eraser end of your pencil. "MC." He nudges you a little. Your head shoots up, momentarily afraid he had realised you were zoning out, but he meets you with a smile and offers you his hand. Wordlessly, you place your free hand in his and he gently clasps his fist around it. Student council meetings are dull, but at least you have Diavolo to share little moments like these with.

BARBATOS

• Another man with gloves here. He knew about your cold hands from listening to the others or observing the jokes you'd play on them using it, but he's unlikely to have any personal experiences with them until much later.

• He honestly doesn't care that much. However, if you feel your hands starting to ache or go stiff, he'll hold them in his own and breathe into them to warm them up. Either that or he'll give you his own gloves for a period of time. They're already warm from him using them, so it's actually pretty nice.

• Is one of the only demons to be reasonable about it. Everybody thank Barbatos.

• Won't interfere with you suddenly putting your hands on anyone or shoving your hands up their shirt, unless it's Diavolo, obviously. He thinks their reactions are amusing. It isn't even worth trying to do to him though, he's impossible to catch off-guard. That, and his hands are also pretty cold, so he can and will do it right back.

• Encourages you to do it to Solomon and will protect you from the sorcerer's wrath afterwards.

• Not to repeat myself, but once you two further your relationship a little more, you'll discover he also quite likes the feeling of your hands on him. He isn't one to show it physically, but he'll let you know how pleasant he finds it if he's in an affectionate mood.

• Not a very cuddly person — mostly because he just never has time for it — but on the rare instance you two cuddle, he won't care much about you placing your feet on him but will pretend like he's mad about it to tease you. He'll get up and refuse to return until you literally beg for forgiveness, at which point he smiles and tells you he never truly minded, but since you asked so nicely he'll come back to the couch with you.

Spotting Barbatos in the kitchen completely focused on his baking would usually be a sign to leave him alone as to not distract him. But for you? No, it was the perfect opportunity to strike. He didn't look up as you enter the kitchen and sneak up behind him, and just when you think you may finally have the upper hand— —He grabs your wrists before you can land your hands on his skin and meets you with a smile. "Ah, MC." You pout, but he isn't moved. "How nice of you to join. Since you clearly aren't up to anything important, how about you lend a hand by fetching me some ingredients?" ...Mission failed.

SIMEON

• I have to imagine that Simeon knows a little more about the human body than most of the demons. So when he holds your hand for the first time, his first thought isn't "they could be hypothermic," it's just "oh, they have cold hands."

• He honestly doesn't mind or even really say anything about it. The most he'll do is lend you his coat on a colder day and tell you to hide your hands inside the sleeves to keep them warm — but then he's just left in that revealing body-suit thing he has, so he gets freezing instead.

• Simeon is a pretty affectionate person, so if you try to stop yourself from directly touching him too much because you know your hands are freezing, he won't be pleased.

• He places your hands back on his face, tilting his head to plant a kiss on your palm. "How much will it take to convince you I enjoy your touch?"

• To be honest, that's a pretty dangerous question to leave entirely up to you, but do what you will with it.

• You know how his shoulders and hips are completely bare for some reason? If you walk up behind him and trace a finger along his shoulder or just grab onto his hips, he jumps and does this cute shiver. He won't scold you for it, but he does get embarrassed and quiet if you do it in front of other people.

"Simeon?" You tap the back of his head. It's still early in the morning, yes, but you have to get up soon. Lucifer would have your head if you two miss a day of RAD, but your angel seems particularly sleepy this morning, as nothing seems to be waking him at all. He was the last person you would expect to have this sort of problem with... "Simeon..." You lower your hand and place your palm on his shoulder, watching him shudder from the cold. "Get up." Finally, you see him blink. He looks up at you, a yawn on his lips as he speaks. "Good morning..."

SOLOMON

• He has a spell for that.

• No, I'm serious, he does.

• It's up to you whether or not you trust this mystery concoction he gives you and tells you to drink because it will, somehow, make your body run warmer. He reassures you it's supposed to be a dark purple. It's nothing to worry about. Believe me.

• For the sake of these headcanons, I'm going to assume you have any sense of self-preservation and don't take drinks from strange wizards.

• Solomon's hands are very cold as well, but he insists they used to be warm when he was younger. You think, perhaps it's symbolic of him slowly leaving his humanity behind as the centuries go on? Either way, you both are menaces.

• If the brothers thought you were bad with shoving your hands up their shirt, wait until Solomon gets in the mix. He'll use magic to somehow enhance the freezing cold of his hands and make them shriek because it's so cold it stings. At least they love you enough to let you get away with it, though. I cannot say the same about Solomon.

• He's banned from the House of Lamentation because he had the bright idea of trying to do it to Lucifer. Any chance of making a pact with him is thrown out the window. Good job.

• It's a bad idea to try doing it to Solomon for the sole reason he will not stop until he gets his revenge — and like I said, he'll make his hands so freezing they hurt to have against your skin. Your best bet is to go to Barbatos for protection because, again, he thinks it's amusing, and his millennium-long grudge on Solomon has still not fully dissipated.

"...What happened?" You blink up at the sorcerer in front of you, who is dangling upside-down from a tree just outside the House of Lamentation. From the ropes hanging him there by his legs, you guess it must have been Lucifer's doing. He gives you a sheepish smile. "Well, since you were hesitant to do Satan and Belphie's prank on Lucifer..." Your eyes widen as you realise what he's talking about. Surely he didn't— "So, I did it instead." "..." "My lovely apprentice will let me down, won't you? Ah— w-wait, hold on! Don't leave me here!"

[mockerycrow]

HELLO the biggest congrats on 4k, you absolutely deserve that and so many more!!!

Could I see a female!reader x Ghost with the prompt:“I had a nightmare . . . can I stay with you tonight?”

TY and yet again, congratulations 🤍🤍🤍

REASSURANCE (Ghost x Fem!Reader) — 4K CELEBRATION

authors note; thank you so much anon <3 i hope you enjoy!

[WARNINGS; not proofread (like most of my fics), silent panic attack + light dissociation, implied you’ve never seen his face, hurt/comfort.]

You know Ghost has nightmares—everyone knows Ghost has nightmares. No one really wants to talk about it because he doesn’t, but everyone has seen the man up at ungodly hours of the night, or perhaps beating the absolute shit out of a punching bag at the on-base gym.

No one except for Price knows what Ghost’s been through, but no one really questions him. It’s unrealistic to think Ghost is the only one waking up due to their dreams—even Price does on the occasion. What Ghost doesn’t do is ask for help.

You had a weird gut feeling about tonight; you weren’t really restless, but you weren’t tired. Every time you laid down to try to get some sleep, your eyelids would slowly open back up. You tried multiple methods; white noise, thinking about nothing, thinking about a story, taking a sleep remedy—nothing.

You had a weird tightness in your stomach that you couldn’t shake. It’s no big deal, you’ve had several nights like this. Nights where you stay up, half expecting something to happen. You aren’t sure if its the military-esque anxiety flaring up, expecting an attack of some sort or if it’s just one of those nights.

You’re laying in bed, trying to think of what you have to do tomorrow. Might as well try to think of something useful, right? Let’s see, you have to do morning training and then you have to eat, brief with price, it’s your turn to help the armourer—the weapons master, you like to say to piss them off—and you also have to do paperwork.

A very tame evening, you think, avoiding the Q word everyone oh so desperately hates; including yourself. Because the second you say it, you’re going to be called by Laswell, or General Shepherd, or some other CIA federal agent bureaucrat about some fucking thing that’s happening in the god forsaken world that only, and only task force 141 can handle—

—Someone knocks on your door, breaking your disorganized thoughts. Your eyebrows furrow; no one should be up, maybe Price is, or Ghost. Did you forget some paperwork? You sit up, slip your slides on your feet, and you walk to the door. You unlock the door and open it, wincing from the bright light of the hallway pouring in, and you’re met with the large figure of Ghost.

You blink, unsurprised. “Hey.” You utter. “Did I wake you?” God, Ghost sounds rough. It sounds like he garbled glass—er, maybe that isn’t the nicest way to describe one of your superiors voices right now. It’s clear he just woke up. You shake your head in response, stepping aside. “Here, come in. It’s bright.”

Ghost silently obeys, stepping inside of your room. You close the door and head over to your desk. You feel around in the darkness until you feel your lamp and you click a button, turning it on, illuminating the room just enough for you to see Ghost. He’s wearing a pair of dark grey sweatpants with one of his black, long-sleeve compression tops to go with it.

He’s wearing a basic black balaclava without the iconic skull, but.. His eyes are different. Distant and weary, cautious—panicked almost. Your eyebrows furrow together as his broad shoulders are tense, fists clenched.

“Ghost..” You call softly. He seems far away—he needs your help. “Ghost.” You say more insistently and louder, noticing the way his chest is barely moving. “Ghost, hey, can y’hear me? You need to take a breath..” You murmur, slowly approaching him.

He’s frozen but you see how his eyes flicker towards you, taking a moment realize where he is. You offer a soft smile you always show him and you nod. “There you are, big guy. Can I touch you?” You make sure to ask because you never know; a soldier during a flashback, touching them? That can be fatal—you trust Ghost as you don’t think he would ever hurt you, but you never know a person.

It takes him a moment to nod, which makes you promptly and gently grab his wrists. You gently guide him to your bed, and you sit him down. You’re nervous—you’re about to calm him down in one of the only ways you know how to, but you’re worried about the consequences you’ll receive afterwards. Oh well, you don’t care, not when Ghost’s eyes are as unfocused as they are.

The bed dips under his weight and you gently spread his legs, standing between them. You grab his arms; they’re deadweight, but his eyes flicker some recognition, allowing you to guide his arms around your waist. You guide his head to lay against your stomach, your hands cradling his masked jaw and the back of his neck.

Ghost takes in a harsh, shuddery breath which makes you hum in approval. “There you go, Ghost. Breathe, you’re alright.” You say in a mellow manner, your thumb brushing over his masked cheek. Ghost takes in another harsh breath as his arms tighten around you. You continue to try to ground him, talking and praising him for his efforts to stay calm. You know he isn’t in the right mind, but you’re still shocked he’s allowed you to touch him for as long as you have.

Something in your gut unravels as Ghost pulls his head away ever so slightly, ripping his mask off and throws it away like it was constricting his breathing. He buries the side of his face back into your stomach, taking you by surprise. Your met with his blonde hair in the low light, your heart stuttering.

You hesitate only for a moment before you bury a hand in his hair on the back of his head, your other hand returning to his jaw, your heart hammering as you note he has stubble as well as something on his skin, like deep scar tissue.

Ghost lets out a noise which you quickly hum in response. “It’s okay, let it out.. Won’t tell anyone about this, okay?” You assure him, causing another noise to escape him, almost like a laugh. “Kinda hard t’do that when a pretty girl is comfortin’ you.” He croaks, his voice broken—both his voice and sentence making your brain short circuit. You laugh in return, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. “Shush,” You murmur. “Just relax.”

Ghost nods against your stomach, shakily exhaling. You stay like that for a while; neither of you are sure for how long, and neither of you care. You’re enjoying the rare vulnerability Ghost is displaying, and he’s enjoying the grounding touch you’re currently providing him. The silence is comforting as you comb your fingers through his hair, and you enjoy the weight of his head and his arms.

“I had a nightmare…” Ghost utters. You hold your breath as he looks up at you, and oh god, he’s hot. “..Can I stay with you tonight?” You’re mesmerized by the way his nose is curved—clearly has been broken a couple of times and wasn’t reset right—by the way his eyebrows are furrowed, his big, beautiful brown eyes.. You nearly forget to respond. “Yes,” You push out, resisting the urge to reach up and rub the tension between his brows. “Always.”

[sinofthesloth]

AAAAA i absolutely loved the 'running up and hugging them' hcs you wrote earlier this month :33 is there any chance you could do it again? with Leona and Idia? mayhaps? I would be oh so joyous ty!!!! also happy new year!!!

Hey, Sin here, I am so sorry this took so long to begin writing. I am currently on my "fall" break of college. I have missed writing for you guys so much.

ALSO, Idia's was kinda hard for me to write. I had so many different ideas that raced through my head. Most of which happened at work. Some many flew by that I began writing them on the backs of recipt paper. Sorry, his technically doesn't fit the prompt, but I think if someone ran at him, he'd fall over. Rich boy doesn't have muscles to keep himself steady.

Thank you for submitting this request and I do hope this is to your liking <333

Writing began: March 9th, 2024 Ended: October 1st, 2024 Content Warning: none Requested: Yep <3 Word count: 931 characters: Leona and Idia.

Leona

The hugs started after the spelldrive tournament. It was a joke in the beginning, just something you knew would get on his nerves enough to annoy him but not endanger yourself to his wrath. He'd glare and chuff at the unusual, but he never pushed you away. You always believed it had something to do with him keeping himself in check when it came to physical aggression.

Maybe he felt bad for his actions during his overblot or maybe he saw how everyone began taking more and more from you without offering any assistance, or maybe he was trying to find an excuse to hold you tightly as you wrapped your arms around his waist and buried your head into his chest.

It took weeks before he realized he began falling for you. Once he noticed it though, he was hooked with no way of backing out of it. This was a gradual build up. He would tug on your shirt at first. Just a handful and a quick grip and release. It wasn't a quick change but by the time he noticed was pulling you further into him and holding you until you pulled away, he couldn't stop himself. He enjoyed laying his head on yours as he held you after class. The shift was so gradual, you could really tell when he ever started hugging you back. This all started out as a way to annoy him anyway.

Leona, as if seeing the change in the wind, noticed the different ways you'd hug everyone else. You stopped rubbing your face into Deuce's or Ace's chest when the two of you hugged. You would give them quick side hugs but made sure to give him a full front facing hug before you had to leave, and lastly, you made sure to hug him before you left an area.

He could get used to this kind of solo attention.

Idia

It happened the first time out of pity. You had never met or seen him in person, and the more you saw his brother carrying a silent tablet, the more your heart went out for Ortho.

Ortho always talked quite highly of his brother. The more he boasted about his brother, the more people whispered. They whispered about the robot boy and his estranged brother.

You would let Ortho ramble. Sometimes, the man over the tablet spoke up to try and deter his brother's efforts, but no matter what was said, Ortho had a retort. When the tablet was eerily silent, Ortho was like a dam that had opened their flood gates after a hurricane. After each and every ramble session, you'd hug him and tell him you couldn't wait to meet his brother someday. It was said out of what felt like kindness, but it was pity, and you knew that deep down. You knew this man solely through his younger brothers eyes. A younger brother who talked extensively about how his brother made him and keeps up with his maintenance. Who's to say this isn't programmed into this little boys mind?

At the first meeting, Ortho ran to you for a hug. It was sweet, but the tall, slim figure a few feet away holding the hood of his hoodie over his head made you tense. Folks around here all have magic. One you couldn't identify meant danger in this world. Hell, ones you could have identified are dangerous.

Ortho pulled you to the man and introduced him to you. Idia stared at your hand as you lifted it for a hand shake. "Oh, don't be shy, Y/n, give him a hug too!" Ortho cheered, not sensing the tension and anxiety between the two of you. You hugged him, but the both of you were too much too stiff for it to look normal.

This is how almost every meeting went. The much taller boy never seemed to relax around you, but as you continued meeting, for Ortho's sake, you learned that this is just how he is. Your side of the hugs got less and less stiff while his remained taut.

"The only way he won't be so ridged in the hugs is if you surprise him!" Ortho commented. He was getting slightly huffy that his brother had yet to hug you properly, so to please the younger brother, you agreed to surprise him. But only once. You had surprised him with a soft hug from behind his gamer chair. He knew you were in the room before you touched him, but since he was focused on his game, his freak out was minimized. He patted your hand, and you let go. Afterward, the hugs were mainly from behind him while he was distracted.

He noticed how soft your hands were as they wrapped themselves around him. They never drifted away from his neck, scared to go too low, and didn't want to touch his chest.

You never ran at him like you did Ortho and the others. You treated him like a frighten cat at times. You'd always ask or make your presents known to him before hugging him. He knew you treated him differently, yet he couldn't bring himself to keep his ego in check. He'd message his discord friends about you, ask questions about what this meant, and why you acted like this with him. Ortho told him the same things long ago, but he never wanted to acknowledge that there might be something different between the two of you. He wanted a running hug, just once. But preferred knowing he was the only one that was gifted these soft, silent hugs.

[transmascaraa]

hi! i've returned with an idea! a gaming x reader that takes place before they start dating, where both are too shy to confess that man chai (i believe that's the name of gaming's companion?) ends up expressing gaming's love to the reader for him somehow.

for example: reader could just be enjoying their day, with gaming gazing smitten at them, when all of a sudden man chai leaps at reader + showering them with the unspoken love that gaming has yet to show them

tbh my take on him being shy abt confessing might be ooc but i still believe it's possible! hence the 'somehow'

— 🧷anon (p.s. ty again for doing my reqs!)

gaming headcannons!

man chai does the confession for him...

crush!gaming x gn!reader ft. man chai

author's note: finally decided to do this one so i know it won't be the longest ofc but i think it'll be really cute maybe???? idk🤷‍♂️ i js wanna finish these leftover 4 reqs to then open my reqs again and close them at around 15 reqs so yeah! i hope you like this<3

"man chai, stop!"

-walking around liyue shouldn't have been scary for gaming, and it never was.

-but this time, man chai was a LITTLE mischievous.

-man chai knew of how gaming liked you based by his reactions when you were there.

-so, when the little lion saw you on the street, he immediately ran off to you.

-nuzzling his fuzzy face into your cheeks, making you jump and blush on command.

-"aww... man chai... it's just you... hey little guy! where's gaming?" you asked, taking him in your hands to kiss his nose.

-soon after, you saw gaming running towards you and him, panting.

-"h-hey, [name]... sorry for him..." he apologized, breathing heavily, but also blushing slightly

-"no, it's okay, don't worry! he's cute." you replied.

-you literally made him feel so relieved with that.

-man chai was then starting to kiss your hands and cheeks, your nose, and he kept looking at you and gaming like you two were a couple or something.

-like his parents perhaps.

-"man chai, stop! don't get on [name]'s nerves!" he laughed, smiling and trying to take man chai from you.

-"no, no, let him!" you laughed back, holding the little lion close to you.

-then, man chai jumped out of your tight embrace and took out a paper from gaming's pocket, giving it to you.

-"n-no, man chai, wait!" gaming tried to take it from him but it just landed in your hands.

-you read it.

-"hello [name], if you got this note, know that i finally got the courage to tell you. i love you." signed by gaming.

-you blushed as you read it and looked at gaming in return, his face just as red as yours.

-"i-is this real?..." you asked, flustered by everything that just happened.

-"w-well... y-yeah... i-if you want to..." he said, looking down at man chai who was happily nodding and playing around your guys' shoes.

-"i-it's worth a try, right?" you answered, giving him a genuine hopeful smile and putting a hand on his cheek softly.

-he practically melted into your gentle hand while man chai started jumping out of happiness.

-gaming is gonna scold him, but he's most definitely grateful.

~~~~~

i really like the prompt and everything ahhhh

cute gaming af

tysm for reading my work anon and everyone else!<3

@mariaace

[ellavatorz]

Fear Me || c.b. x reader

prompt: Colby is there for you when the Stanley hotel becomes too much.

tw/cw: violence, angst-y(?), mainly cute protective colby.

photo is not mine, found on Pinterest

a/n: this is for @tealeyewonder, ty for requesting this! it was fun to write & I hope you enjoy <3

*

It wasn’t long after you all had arrived that shit began to happen. In fact, it took exactly five minutes into filming for Amanda, Mackie and yourself to begin hesitating in proceeding with the investigation.

The guys—per usual—begged for you all to stick around just “a little longer!” And so here you five were; vibrating with adrenaline and high off of the aura that the hotel room reeked in.

“Colbs, I’m serious. Are you sure we should continue?” you and colby are isolated from the others, pressed against the entrance, just outside of the shared—and one of the infamously haunted—room 428.

He reaches a hand into your hair and tugs a lock behind your ear, breaking the silence with a gentle and monosyllabic “it’s fine.”

With an eye roll, you shovel your hands into the depths of your jacket’s pockets and drill your gaze into him. Seemingly prepared for your rebuke, Colby proceeds with a cautionary voice.

“I promise I won’t let anything happen to you, okay? It’ll just be for a few more hours and then if you really want to, we can find another hotel nearby and book it. Free of ghosts, alright?”

Sighing in defeat, you settle for his reassurance and choose to remain as calm as you can for the rest of the night in the hotel—albeit still littered with deafening ghost trails and paranormal activity.

*

Colby’s voice resonates around the room as he recites an excerpt from some sort of yelp review left by previous guests of the hotel. The girls and yourself huddle together in front of where he sits on the mattress, watching and listening intently.

“It’s said for a male entity to lean over female guests and..” he quirks a brow and chuckles before continuing, “tries to kiss them.”

“What?” You blurt, eyes enlarging in size before the other two girls are laughing. “Naughty ghosts!” You say jokingly.

“Maybe we should dress up as girls tonight?” Colby jokes, and you all begin to feel the air purify it’s way into peace as you continue.

Suddenly, you all decide to move toward the lone, dark and eerie corners of the Hotel, the staircase which is known for its Vortex.

There, Amanda retells a memory of having imagined an entity following Colby around. Shocked, you latch onto his arm and give him a shake.

“Shit, you’re gonna attract all the ghosts tonight!”

His face replicates mortification as the rest of you laugh cheerfully, silently wishing for the idea of your boyfriend having an attachment to fall through.

“There’s definitely someone here already but I can’t make out who it is exactly. They keep hiding behind the handrails.” Amanda states, pointing at the solid fixture just behind you and Colby. Mackey agrees with a hum and drags her gaze elsewhere.

“It feels.. strange.” You murmur, looking at yourself in the reflection of the mirrors. Colby appears behind you, circling your waist with his arms and smiling contently.

“Oh definitely, but look at how cute we look!”

“Colby.” You smack at his shoulder. “Really?”

“What? It’s true.”

“Alright I say we move back to the room and get some footage of the rem pod.” Sam appears from behind you two and the group agrees.

*

“Great,” colby says after he’s finished setting up the equipment. “Again, if anything comes and touches this device it’ll light up and make a bunch of noise.”

You all nod in understanding, deciding to stand a good distance away from the footing of the bed where the device lies. Instantly, the REM Pod goes off, the red light shining along with it.

“Hello?” Sam greets, mouth wide open in shock. “Do you recognize us? We’ve been here before..”

“Nah, he only cares about girls, man!” Colby jokes, though the device begins sounding off. The girls and yourself move back, stunned at the reaction.

“Holy shit, did it just agree with what you said?” You look over to Colby in surprise. He nods, just as startled as you.

“Do you like girls? Kissing them?” You ask, biting your lip in anxiousness.

The device goes off.

“Do you like us being here?” Amanda asks.

It’s silent.

The five of you share a look before Sam continues. “Can you do something to show us who you are? Are you Flora?”

You room stills, air suddenly thickening with something akin to a suffocating material being held against your face. You blanch are the feeling, trying your best to shake it off until there’s a bang just inches behind you.

The five of you turn in fear and you immediately dart to Colby’s side, feeling an intense amount of pressure in your head. “Okay guys, my head is seriously killing me.”

Mackie gasps, pointing a finger in your direction while moving closer to you. Colby wraps an arm around your middle, turning you to face him as he analyzes your features.

“Your nose is bleeding,” he notes aloud and you frown. “Are you okay?”

“No I just—I don’t know? I felt weird and then the noise happened.” You explain, holding a napkin to your nose that Mackie had gotten for you. Sam brings the camera close to your face, to which you scowl at.

“Dude, give me space will you?” You mutter and Sam apologizes, moving away and pointing the camera towards the other girls instead.

Colby worries his lip, chewing at the skin with a drive to settle his concern. You pat his shoulder, reassuring him that you’re fine.

The series of questions continue but still, your headache worsens and the air doesn’t feel any lighter.

“Did you follow us from somewhere else?” Sam questions. There’s a pregnant pause before the device begins going off. You make eye contact with Amanda as she steps forward to shut off the device.

“That’s enough,” she states firmly, eyeing the duo before requesting the cameras to be turned off. Sam agrees begrudgingly, moving to sit on the edge of the mattress along with Colby and Mackie. You and Amanda stand close, her hand wrapping around your wrist protectively.

“I don’t feel safe here anymore. I think we should take a break.” She says and Colby tilts his head, brows furrowed.

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“There’s something here and I don’t want to talk about it.” Amanda huffs, looking towards the door. You distribute your weight from one foot to another anxiously.

“Maybe we could come back later? Let’s just take a breather outside—“

“Y/N, what’s on your arm?” Sam ponders and reaches to bring you closer to the flashlight.

You look down and notice a slew of thinly sourced abrasions on your forearm. “What the hell?”

“This isn’t right, we have to go.” Amanda urges, to which you all hurriedly concur, rushing for escape.

It’s when you’re one foot out of the door that you’re suddenly shoved and sent crashing into Colby’s back. Being the last one out, you physically startle and feel your hands beginning to tremble.

“I just—it just pushed me,” you stammer, eyes darting behind you to where the door to the room is shut. Amanda pulls you in close and recites a quick prayer before pulling you into her embrace.

After everything that had happened to you, Colby had had enough. His body began to boil with a protective instinct as he rushed back into the room, heart slamming against his chest.

“I dont care who you are or what you are, but you have no right to touch us. I didn’t give you permission and you sure as fucking hell don’t deserve it. You can’t follow us home and you better not follow us to any other location either.” He sneered, voicing his thoughts aloud to a visibly empty room.

“Colby,” Sam tries, placing a hand on his shoulder in attempt to pull him out, only to be shaken off and ignored when Colby continues.

“You could’ve touched me, hurt me, or whatever the fuck— but you touched Y/N and that’s where I draw the line. Get your disgusting ghoul fucking hands off of them and don’t ever touch them again.”

Staggering back with a winded breath, Colby returns to your side and holds you tightly between his arms. You reciprocate the action and try to smile, though it comes out as more of a lopsided grin.

“Thank you, colby.” You manage to utter from where he holds you against his chest. He sighs, clearly affected by your experience. You nudge him off gently before pulling him along with the rest of the group; moving to the entrance of the hotel without hesitation and making a beeline to the car.

“I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you,” Colby murmurs once you’ve all packed into Sam’s rented vehicle. You and Colby sit thigh to thigh in the farthest pair of seats. “I promised I would.”

“Colby, it isn’t your fault. Amanda didn’t even know what it was, so seriously.. you couldn’t have known that was going to happen.” You ease his worry with a hand to his leg, rubbing miscellaneous shapes into the fabric of his jeans.

“I just wish it didn’t happen that way. I wanted this to be fun for you. And.. and I was hoping we could’ve had a small investigation together at some point in the night.”

If you didn’t know any better, you’d guess this was Colby’s attempt at convincing you that he’s fine. However, you know him all too well to know that his facade is weakening with every thought that washes through him. The pout in his voice is nearly visible before you’re leaning in to place a kiss to his cheek. Pulling his gaze to you by gripping his chin gently, you smile at him.

The soft look he shares with you is enough for you to see just how much love he holds for you in the blue ocean of his eyes. Inviting yourself to dive into him, you lean your head against his shoulder and pull his arm closer.

“You don’t always have to be the hero, Colby. I know you love and care about me, but there’s always going to be things that you just can’t protect me from.” You say, and feel his weight drop to comfort. Smiling to yourself, you squeeze his hand.

“I love you, and thank you for bringing me along today. Despite it all, I enjoyed my time spent hunting ghosts.. just.. maybe next time we won’t visit a spirit who seems to have it out for girls who are taken, hm?”

At that, Colby chuckles. His fingers intertwine with yours impossibly tighter and he leans down to kiss the crown of your head.

“I love you too. And I promise I won’t put you in any more danger. No more mean grumpy ghosts. Maybe just the creepy kid ones.”

“Sick, no.” Sam calls from the front of the car, and you all laugh.

[gojo-mochi]

Monster trio meeting the girl of their dreams but turns out they are a marine

Pls and ty:)

Have a great day<3

Prompt: Monster trio meeting the girl of their dreams but turns out they are a marine.

A/N: First time at angst! WOOO (ง ื▿ ื)ว I kinda went overboard with this one…. So it took kinda long aha, Hope you enjoy tho anon if you’re still here!

Content Warning: Fem!reader, Angst, Mild blood, Reader is a new marine fresh out of training, Reader is all slightly different in each head canon since each person’s dream girl wouldn’t be the same, hurt/ no comfort.

Not Proofread

Word Count: 5.4K

Luffy:

First Meeting:

You were on your first job, patrolling around the island to catch any criminals or report any bad deeds. With rifle clutched in hand, you practiced your stomping routine all-thru out the day, eyes darting around to scan the whole area. That was when you came across a boy? Or a young man  now that you glance over his ahem nice build, passed out in a alleyway. You immediately rush over to him, kneeling down and lifting up his head and checking for any obvious wounds or blood.

“Foo-food….so hungry..”

You heard him faintly groan out, followed by a loud stomach rumble. ‘Poor thing must not had eaten in a while..’ You pondered looking at his thin frame. You gently rest his head on your lap while you pull out your lunch bag. As soon as the stranger heard the sound of your bento opening, his eyes shot open, drooling pooling out of his mouth. You stifled a giggle at the sight, taking a pair of chopsticks and picking up one of the fried chicken you made for lunch. Offering it to the strange man, his lips seem to ‘stretch’ out and enveloped the whole chicken piece in a flash.

“Mm... yummy!”

You didn’t think more on that strange moment when the man urgently asked for more by making grabby hands motion and pouting out his lips. You couldn’t back your giggles at this point, once again picking up your chopsticks to hand feed this man. Soon, your whole lunch box was emptied and the man leans up, carefully positioning his straw-hat on top of his head. ‘That looked oddly familiar to me but why..’ Your thoughts get broken though as the strange man loudly smacks his lips together and turns to give you a thumbs up with a wide smile. “The meal tasted amazing! Almost as good as Sanji’s cooking!”

You blush a bit at his compliments, you always cooked for yourself so hearing someone saying that they enjoyed you’re cooking was new… and pleasant. “Ah! I forget to introduce myself.” You got up and dust off your pants, it was a new Marine Uniform they were testing out so you hate to get it dirty so quickly. “My name is y/n, may I asked for yours?” You reach out our hand in your introduction and the man’s hands quickly came to hold them.

‘Warm…’ You thought silently.

“Luffy!” He shakes your hand up and down rapidly, “You’re really pretty and nice by the way! You should come meet my crew! I’ll have Sanji cook something as a Thank You for giving me your lunch!” He spoke out in quick succession, not giving you time to respond back. Though you can feel your face heating up at hearing him call you ‘pretty’. “Oh right! I was supposed to meet up with my crew somewhere! I need to run now but see me later, yeah?!” You could only stare at his back as he starts to rush off somewhere.

Luffy’s POV

‘That food was so yummy! And the lady was so nice and pretty and wow!’ Luffy’s thoughts usually went a mile a min, especially now expect it was all about you. He couldn’t wait to tell his Nakamas about what happened today. He thought about how soft your lap was to rest on, how he enjoyed every single bite of food you gave him, how even more delicious the food was when it was coming from your hands. He had a skip in his steps as he ran around the island looking for any signs of his crew, ‘I hope y/n likes Sanji’s cooking! Maybe so much that she’ll even join us!’

A/N: Luffy not the type to fall in love in first sight, so idk how to exactly write out him meeting his dream girl other than this  ｡･ﾟ･(ﾉД`)ヽ

Second Meeting:

You were alerted by your Commander about a group of pirates causing havoc near the docks. You dash to the dock ready to deal damage to these Pirates. ‘How dare they! Terrorizing a small island like this one!’ You thought angrily as you get closer to your destination. You soon come across a giant blue haired robot person? And a green haired man wielding three swords. Your allies were being slashed down right in front of you. You brought out your rifle and took aim at the pirates ready to fire at a moment notice.

When you noticed a certain straw hat jumping over everyone. Your heart was thumping, blood rushing to your head as you screamed out; “Luffy!?”

Luffy turned to look at you in midair and grinned wide, stretching his arms impossibly long to where you were. He crash land in front of you with a loud ‘thud’. “Y/N! You made it!” He yelled near your ears excitedly, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug. You get shoved him off and point your rifle at him with shaking hands. He gives you a sad puppy eyed look. “What’s wrong?” He tilts his head in a way that almost makes you stumble in your step. But you hold fast; “What’s wrong?! What’s wrong is that you are damn Pirate!”

You raise up your rifle again in fury. Did he not know that you were a Marine this whole time? …No, he must had known and pretended to be sick so you lowered your guard down or something, after all, all pirates are the same. You blink away the tears in your eyes, the expression on Luffy’s face almost tricked you into believing that he was clueless in all of this. “Surrender now! Or else I will use this!”

You get slammed by a reindeer or some sort of reindeer liked monster. Your back hits the ground with a hard “Oof.” Escaping your lips, through bleary eyes you can barely see Luffy reaching out for you before he was pulled away by that swordman. Another Marine goes to help you back up, you wince at seeing how your forearms were all scratched and bleeding now. With only rage fueling your voice you scream as the Pirate’s ship was getting ready to sail away. “This isn’t over Luffy! You’re dead to me!”

Luffy’s POV

The Sunny was sailing away and everyone on the ship was safe and accounted for. They made off with bags of food as well. Sanji even said he was making a feast tonight. So why did Luffy feel so sad… He only known for a couple of mins but those memories kept replaying in his head. Your warmth and your kindness, it was replaced with the vision of you screaming out and on the ground bruised.

His crewmates were quick to noticed Luffy’s new attitude, him slumped over on the railing just looking at the island as it fades out of view. When anyone came up to ask, Luffy didn’t give them a answer on why he was feeling this way, he just was. He hoped that the next time you guys end up meeting that it would turn out better but the bitter feeling in the back of his mind told him that you wanted him dead. Why did you have to turn out to be a Marine… he then wondered if he could change your mind and turn you into a pirate instead.

With that new plan in mind, he cheered up a bit and went to bother Sanji about when dinner was ready. He kept rubbing at his chest the whole day though, trying to suppress the ache he felt inside.

Zoro:

First Meeting:

You were cursing your way into shelter as the rain poured down on you. Keeping your sword close to your body as you huddled underneath a tree. ‘Damn it, of course it would rain as soon as I finished with my sword training for the day.’ You cursed silently, wringing out the sleeves on your robe. You always switch out of your usual Marine’s uniform when training but now you’re began to regret that choice. The Marine’s uniform were waterproof to a degree, given how much of your work was out on the sea.

You huff out, rolling your eyes to the dark overcast, flipping it off like it would make any sort of difference. You heard a snort coming off from the left. You jump up a bit in shock, glad that you’re commander wasn’t here to see you be so careless enough not to notice another presence near you. You glare at the new person, not out of any hatred, just annoyance. Why were you even annoyed at this person? You don’t really have an answer for that…

You take a good look at the stranger, he have oddly colored green hair, a scar over his eye, and three swords hung by the side of his hip. He sends over a small smirk when he catches you staring for too long at his open chest. “A picture would last longer, you know?” He taunted with a slight tilt of his head. You feel a fierce blush coming up and you tore your eyes away from watching the rain droplets go down on his admittedly nice abs. You faked a cough and straighten your shoulders out.

“I was just making sure you weren’t a threat or anything like that.” You grunted out. You blush even more when the stranger gave you a toothy smirk in response as he hums. The hums almost came out as growl from how deep it sounded. “So, do you still think I am threat then little missy?” His grey eyes now scanning over your body. Your hands itches towards your sword but you stop yourself.

“I’m Y/N, and I’m…” You took a small pause, “I’m sigh sorry about before, thinking you were a threat and all that.” You did feel bad for glaring at him for no reason, after all he didn’t do anything to deserve it. The man shifted his position, letting his robe fall open, exposing even more of his tanned skin and scarred muscles. “Tis’ fine, it’s not like I blame you for staring.” Oh, alright, now you don’t feel bad for glaring at him.

“I was-wasn’t staring!” You quickly snapped back, which cause the still unnamed man to barked out a laugh. You start to grind your teeth, ‘Fuck him and his stupid attractive laugh too.’ You thought as you turn to find shelter elsewhere. You felt a tug as the man grabbed on to your wrist and pulled you back.

“Hey! Wait! I uh fuck.” He lets you go. “Look, I didn’t mean to upset you alright. So don’t leave ok?” His voice sounded a bit softer than before. When you turned around, you catch sight of a small blush painting over his face. It made your heart skip a beat. You shuffles back to your spot, next to the man, letting your shoulder bump against his tall frame. “I didn’t know that you wanted me back that badly.” You jested, feeling off the warm feeling crawling up.

You heard another snort come off the man, and then the warmth of his broad hand coming to ruffle your hair. He didn’t say anything in return though, just letting the pitter patter of the raindrops wash over you two. It took a while and some brushing of hands and fake coughing for one of you to speak up again. “So.. what type of sword style do you use?” The man grunted and looked over to the sword by your hip. You drummed your fingers on the hilt of your blade nervously at his intense gaze.

“I came from a place called Mount Hua, and I was taught the Plum Blossom sword technique there.” You tilt your head back to glance as his expression. Most people would scoff when they see a woman with a sword so you wonder how he’s reacting. It catches you by surprise to see him so intrigued by your words. “Could you show me once this damn rain goes away?”

He sounded serious about it, not like all the others who taunted or mocked your style. ‘Plum Blossom style? Heh! Sounds girly enough for a woman to use! What does it do? Make everything pretty? Bahahah!’ Your thoughts race to all the things people said to you before. You faked another cough and tried to secretly wipe away your tears that were threatening to fall. You just settled for a nod, looking away, hoping that the man doesn’t see your tears. You hear some shifting beside you and the hand returns upon your head.

His callous fingers gently sunk into your hair, scraping against your scalp tenderly, it almost makes your purr from the sensation. He stayed silent, just letting his hand convey all his feelings. The rain soon ended after this moment, you didn’t know if you wanted to be happy or cry that it was over. You step out from under the shelter and give a head nod to the man. You wondered what a good time to ask for his name, it feels awkward to ask after so long.

The man gave a nod back and began to follow you as you walk to a good place to show off your sword technique. You suck in a shaky breath, readying your sword stance. Closing your eyes and steadying your mind, your body goes thru the motions you repeated so many times before. Right foot first, swing your sword out into an arc, twist your body and follow that arc, another step into a whole dance. Move your body like the swaying petals that descend down from Mount Hua.

Since your eyes were closed the whole time, you didn’t get to see the awestruck expression the man wore on his face the entire time. Mouth slightly agape and his one eye never leaving your form as you make the plum blossoms  bloom around you with each swing. It was breath-taking and utterly ethereal, the man thought to himself. His own hand itching to try and copy your sword style. He wanted desperately to see more of this technique and more of you if he was being honest.

Once you were done, the plum blossom softly fall down around you, it made you look heavenly. You tried to not let out a wheeze, controlling your breaths unless your heartrate fully calmed down. Your turns toward the man as he was walking to you, mouth open to say something but cut off by the ringing of your transponder snail. Pere Pere Pere…. Click. You take out the snail from your pocket, it’s eyes opens as your commander’s shouts out. “Y/N! Where are you!? We have a code red down at the docks! Hurry over now!” You stammered out an yes while shooting the stranger a apologetic look. You quickly took foot to the docks, your duties outweigh everything else.

Zoro’s POV

His hand reached out before his mind could react but you were already gone. ‘Shit..’ Zoro looked back to the plum blossoms scattered on the ground. Picking one up between his fingers, rolling it around he sighs. Hand going to rest on his sword hilt he wonders if he could make flowers bloom like you could. His mind flashed back to your sorrowful expression when he asked you to show off your technique. You must had a hard time in the past, his fist balled up in fury at the thought of someone… anyone making you cry like that. He shook his heads as these kind of thoughts filled his head, it was unusual for him to feel such strong emotions and for someone he barely knows as well. He rolls his shoulders and tries not to delve deeper into these new emotions, wondering where the hell his crew was. (A/N: Zoro was supposed to meet his crew an hour ago but he got lost ofc ヽ(~_~()

Second Meeting:

Clang! Your sword comes down and clashed against the large blue metal arm of the cyborg. “Woah there lady! Why don’t we all calm down and talk about this, yeah?” You stepped back when arms sprout from the ground trying to grab your ankles. “We can talk about this once you all are all in handcuffs!” You ready to swing again but you stumble in you step when you caught sight of a familiar green head of hair. A fellow officer catches you before you fully fall flat on your face. “Get it together L/N!” You nod at your fellow officer.

Fighting down the urge to puke when the green haired stranger goes to join the Pirate Crew’s side. Your lips pressed together when you see him take out his swords against the marines. Your body tense and you made your way to the man. Swish! Clang!Zoro’s eye widen when you clashed swords. “Y/N? Wh-what? Why the hell are you here?!” Veins forming on his forearms as he tried to push back against your attack. “I should be asking you that! If I had known that you were a damn pirate I would never had-!” Your breath falters as your eyes start to well up with tears. Zoro let out a hiss when you managed to nick his arm a bit.

You could feel that he was holding back, not putting his full strength into his attacks. You growled out, “Stop doing that! Are you going easy on me just became I’m a girl?!” You swung down again with a heavy arc. Zoro jumped back shock and then anger paints over his face. “I wouldn’t hold back just cause of that! You don’t know a damn thing about me!” He snarled out, accidently putting some of his haki into his next swing, the force pushed you all the way across the battlefield. Your Commander caught you before you fell into the ocean.

Your head was dizzy and your ears was ringing, you felt your Commander’s hands on your back and neck as he props you up a bit. His visage was hazy and you could slightly hear the words, “Y/N?! Ar- -ou wi—me!? Y/N!!” The last thing you saw was Zoro in the distance, jumping up on the Pirate’s ship and leaving. You soon pass out in your Commander’s arms afterwards.

Zoro’s POV

He was getting patched up in Chopper’s office, heart still thumping from the visage of you all bloodied on the ground. From his own attack as well. He hiss out when Chopper applied the medical salve on a  particularly grisly wound. “Sorry Zoro! Are you alright?” Chopper fretted over him, going to check over every inch of his body again. Zoro only grunted a “Is ok.” In return and stood up. He waves off Chopper’s worries and ignores the stinging stares on his back from the rest of his crewmates once he walked out on deck.

He goes up to the Crow’s Nest, pretending the paining in his arms weren’t there. He looks at all his gym equipment and slumps his shoulders, opting to just lay on the ground. ‘A nap sounds fine I guess…’

His hand goes inside his robe to pull out a single plum blossom petal, he rolls between his fingers, admiring the soft shades of colors. His mind goes back to you, your cute expression when he teased you, your form when dancing, and you.. dead on the ground because of him. He shuts his eyes and holds the petal close to his chest and goes to sleep. Wondering if things went differently, where you would be now…

Sanji:

First Meeting:

You pulled the short stick and got tasked with the duty of groceries shopping for the rest of your team this week. You squint at the long list your Commander gave you. “Apples, Bread (Make sure to get Rye NOT WHEAT), Meat, (Beef, Pork, Lamb if you find it), Bruss-oof.” You hit the back of a tall blonde stranger, stumbling backwards you shut your eyes preparing for the crash landing. Only to find yourself in the arms of the same stranger you bumped into. “Woah there! Are you alright ma chérié?” A smooth voice asked. You open you eyes to find the face of the stranger, a handsome man with a curly brow.

With his arms wrapped securely around your waist he brings you back up to your feet. You stuttered out an apology and bowed to your savior. He chuckles and bowed back with a more flawless posture. “No need to thank me, I will always help a beautiful lady in need.” He then put his hand out in asking for yours. You blush at the compliment and bashfully gave him your hand, he then proceeded to plant a soft kiss on the back of your hand which cause you to blush even further.

“May I ask why you were in such a big rush, my dear?”

“O-oh! I was getting groceries and I was looking at my list and not paying any attention, which I am so sorry for again!” As you explained your reasoning you went to show the list that held all the items you needed to buy. Expect it wasn’t in your hands anymore or your pockets for that matter. You pat around your whole body looking for that very long and important list. Finding nothing in the end, yours hand start to clench as your breathing became more unstable. “Shit, Shit, SHIT! This can not be happening to me right!” Your whole body at this point starts to shake, when you feel warm hands on your shoulders and a calming voice guiding you down.

“Hey there, look at me alright, and breath with me. You need to breath, miss…. That’s it… slow and steady… good job.”

Your breathing starts to calm down as you listen to the voice. Shoulders still slightly shaking as you feel the same warm hands as before pat your head and began to wipes away tears you didn’t know was falling. You start hiccupping as the man pulls you into his arms, rubbing small soothing circles on your back. Once you calmed down enough to speak, you look at up the man, still being held in his arms.

“Th-thank you for this… I’m sorry for—”

He stops you before you could finish your apology. “Don’t feel like you need to apologize my dear, it’s a man’s duty to always help dries a lady’s tears as well.” His head still petting your hair so sweetly it makes your heart squeeze a bit. Still he was a stranger no matter how handsome he is, so you reluctantly push away from his firm chest and try not to think too much about the look on his face as you did. “It just that I lost the list of all the things I need to get for my group and I’m not sure what to do now…”

The man hummed for a bit, closing his eyes before he said. “Why don’t I help you out with your shopping? Not to brag but I am quite the talented chef so this would be a easy task for me to do.” He grinned down at you. You start to refuse stating that you didn’t want to bother him but he had already grabbed your hand into his and was pulling you towards the marketplace. “Just tell me about who we’re buying for and let me take care of it, ok sweetheart?” Your heart skips so many beats hearing him call you sweetheart, just so casually like it was something that was normal between you two.

You brush aside the nickname and your beating heart to explain some of your teammates tastes and dislike. The more you talk the more comfortable you got, telling him about how each of your teammates have something they actively hate and will not even touch a dish if it has that certain ingredient in it. Throwing your arms in the air as you told the story of how two of them got into a fight over who ate the last of the mangos. He chuckles at the story or at how you were acting, you weren’t so sure but you were enjoying the time spent with him.

He easily explained what was best to get, how to pick the best fruit, cut of meat, and fresh fish, he also showed you how to haggle for the best prices as well. You giggled when he went back and forth with the old fishermen, his hand still held on tightly to yours the whole time. You felt a small squeeze every time the fishermen retorted back saying the price was firm. In the end he did get a couple of free fishes with his order. He was swinging his hand that held yours as he happily carried the numerous amount of bags all in his other arm.

You wanted to share some of the load but he was adamant about carrying it all for you but he denied every moment you asked. His hand was oh so warm and caring, when you reached your building you didn’t want to let go. And it seems like he didn’t either, he just silently drops the bags off and hold steady to you hand before letting go. Your fingers slipping past each other slowly until you were freed, free but cold. You just stayed there in the middle of your doorway, you both don’t even know the other’s name but you feel like there was something that was bubbling just below the surface.

However, before anything could happen the both of you heard a huge explosion come from somewhere in the city. The make the ground beneath shake heavily and your ears ring from the aftershock. You look around frantically to see any signs of enemies or anything that could be dangerous while the man did the same while shielding you. You shake off the same feeling in your chest as you went to Transponder Snail to check in with your team. “I have to go check on my friends! Please stay here and stay safe!” The man yells as he starts to run towards the source of the explosion.

You yelled after him but he was already long gone, the Transponder snail still ringing in your hand. You bite you lips in worry for your teammates and the strange man you gotten close to.

Sanji’s POV:

While he hates to leave a beautiful young lady behind, he can’t help but worry about his friends. So while his legs went on autopilot to his friends his mind wandered back over to the marketplace and to you, how his hand fits so perfectly on your waist, the way your smile seem to set his heart aflame each time you directed at him, it was a different sort of feeling from what he usually get when seeing a pretty lady. It both terrified and excited him at the same time, he thought of what he could do when he needed to leave the island later. Would you accept a vivre card from him a stranger, was that too much? Maybe just giving you his number would be fine… or maybe you could join the crew as his assistant? He need to convince Luffy first but also you but his mind couldn’t help but think of all the scenario of you and him together.

He finally reached source of the smoke and found his friends being attacked by a group of marines. He hurries in to help fight them off.

Second Meeting:

The Transponder snail opened up it eyes and you heard your teammate shout out your name. You responded back right away, asking how was everyone and where they were. You voice came out in rasps as you didn’t know that you were holding your breath this whole time. You slide down to the floor upon hearing that everyone was safe from the blast. Tears falling from all the stress, but you steadied yourself once your teammate asked if you could come help. You stifled some sniffles and told them that you’ll be there soon.

You got into your uniform and ready your weapon by your side as you head to the meeting area, the source of the explosion. ‘Where that kind stranger went to….I hope he’s ok..’ Thoughts like these race in your mind as you dash across the town. You hear the sound of fighting before you could spot anyone. You get out your weapon and hurry to the battle to find… The same stranger.

Your heart stops in your throat, your mind was spinning, and you could barely hear you’re the fight over you, as you eyes set on the man. He looked good, you hate to admit it, as he was going around kicking your teams’ ass, but dam does he look good doing it. You snapped out of it when you got pulled back by your commander as a strange and buff Raccoon dog(?) was barreling your way. You landed with a oof and grunted out a sorry as your commander went back to help the others.

Your mind was still foggy over why he man was helping the pirates and what that meant for the two of you. The two of you?? You only knew him for what? A couple of hours? Why were you thinking so hard on this, it obvious that he’s a pirate and that he needs to go down, just like every other pirate out there. You keep telling yourself that as you head straight towards him with your weapon pointed. “Halt!”

The man stopped in his tracks as he turns to meet you, his eye goes wide but then he immediately smiles wide. “Ma chérié! You’re here!” He stretch his arms out wide, as if he was waiting for a hug. You almost falter in your step as you felt your cheeks warm up. You pretended it was from anger and not anything else as you take a step back and faced your weapon towards him. “Surrounded now Pirate! I won’t ask twice!”

His arms was still out stretched but the smile on his face fell. It seems like he was struggling to say something but then the same Raccoon dog you saw before was crashing towards you again but you managed to step away just in time. “Get away from Sanji!” ‘Sanji… so that’s his name..’

You land on your feet with a hard thud. Growling as you try to swipe at the large creature, almost landing a hit when Sanji stops you with his leg. “Wait! Please let talks this out, my dear, we could work this out.” You pushed away his leg and yelled back. “Talk what out?! You’re a pirate! We have nothing between us!”. As soon as Sanji’s face fell, you regret what you said, heart twisting in your chest. One of your teammate came to stand beside you and take aim at the two, shooting at them while they ran back to their ship. You curse them out as the ship’s sails unfurled and they began to leave. Trying desperately to stop the tears from falling as your heart reach out to him while your mind was yelling at you.

Sanji’s POV:

He just stayed in the kitchen for most of the week after leaving that island. Distracting himself by preparing new dishes, snacks, drinks, anything that occupy his hands and his mind. Usopp and Nami was worried about him and the food storage but Sanji waved them off. He puffed out another smoke from his nth cigarette. Looking at his hand and trying to remember the warmth he felt when yours was holding it. He sighs, putting out his current cigarette and lighting up another one. As his thoughts pulled him back that marketplace and the sound of your laughter rings in his ears.

[cluelessteam]

If you do Narnia fics, can you do one about Edmund Pevensie with !enemy reader? Ty <3

A/N: I just want to say thank you so much for the request! You are my second one and I really hope you enjoy this. This is a oneshot fanfic but if you want me to do a series for this prompt, I will do it just for you!

{~Between Shadows and Steel~}

Summary: In the midst of a fierce battle, you confront your sworn enemy, Edmund Pevensie, determined to end the war between your people and Narnia. But as your swords clash, Edmund’s unexpected words and actions challenge everything you thought you knew about him—and yourself. With the chaos of war surrounding you, a moment of vulnerability leads to an undeniable connection, forcing you to question whether you’re truly enemies or something more.

Characters: Edmund Pevensie

Pairing: Edmund x GN!Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1178

The battlefield stretched out before you like an endless ocean of chaos. Warriors clashed with brutal force, their weapons ringing in the air, the ground beneath them soaked in the blood of the fallen. The cries of the wounded mingled with the roar of battle, and somewhere in the distance, you could hear the chilling shriek of a centaur as it fell to a barrage of arrows.

You stood on the edge of the fray, your chest heaving, sword in hand, watching as the skirmish raged on. In the midst of the melee, a single figure caught your eye. He moved like the wind—swift, agile, and utterly determined.

Edmund Pevensie.

The Just King of Narnia. And your enemy.

To you, he represented everything you’d fought against for years. Narnia’s expansion had forced your people into a corner, and you had sworn to resist. To fight until there was nothing left. But as you watched him now, cutting through your soldiers with practiced precision, doubt flickered in the depths of your mind.

You hated him—or so you told yourself. Yet, every time you crossed paths with Edmund, it felt as though there was something more beneath the surface. Something that made your heart pound in ways you couldn’t explain.

You gripped your sword tightly, the leather of the hilt biting into your palm as you steeled yourself. Today, you would confront him. Today, you would end this, one way or another.

With a deep breath, you charged toward him, weaving through the chaos, your eyes fixed on his form. Your footsteps were light but swift, your sword slicing through any obstacle in your path. The moment you reached him, you swung your blade, aiming for his unguarded back.

But Edmund moved faster than you anticipated. As if sensing your presence, he spun around, his sword meeting yours with a resounding clang. Your eyes locked, and for a moment, time seemed to stop.

“You again,” he muttered, his voice strained with exertion, but not without a hint of recognition.

“Don’t act so surprised,” you shot back, pushing against his blade with all your strength.

He smirked, his eyes gleaming with something that was neither fear nor anger, but something you couldn’t quite place. “I’m not. I just didn’t expect it to be this soon.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Then you should’ve been ready for me.”

The two of you danced across the battlefield, swords clashing with each strike, the sound echoing in the din of war. He was a skilled fighter, and you found yourself struggling to keep up with his speed. But you refused to back down. You had trained for this moment—prepared yourself for the inevitable confrontation.

Yet, as you fought, there was something different about this battle. Each time your swords connected, there was a spark in the air—an electricity you couldn’t ignore. Every time you stepped closer to him, it felt like the world was closing in, leaving only the two of you in its wake.

“You don’t have to do this,” Edmund said suddenly, his voice low, as if he could speak to you alone amidst the chaos.

You growled, frustration building in your chest. “And you don’t have to keep pretending you care!”

He blocked your next strike with ease, his eyes flickering with something unreadable. “What makes you think I’m pretending?”

That stopped you for a moment. Your sword hovered in the air as you stared at him, the words catching you off guard. His expression softened slightly, and you noticed that he wasn’t attacking as aggressively as he could have. In fact, it seemed as though he was holding back.

“You don’t know me,” you snapped, stepping back to regain your composure.

He sheathed his sword, making you pause. “I know enough.”

Before you could retort, a nearby explosion rocked the ground, sending dust and debris into the air. The shockwave threw you both backward, and you hit the ground with a grunt. For a moment, your vision blurred, the chaos around you fading to a dull roar.

When the dust settled, you found yourself staring up at the sky, dazed. But then, a shadow fell over you, and you blinked up to see Edmund standing above you, his hand outstretched.

“Let me help you,” he said, his voice steady despite the battle still raging around you.

You glared at him, but the strength in your arms had fled. Reluctantly, you took his hand, allowing him to pull you to your feet. His grip was firm, and for a moment, neither of you moved, your hands lingering together a little too long.

“Why are you doing this?” you asked, breathless. Your heart pounded, but it wasn’t just from the exertion of battle.

Edmund’s expression softened. “Because I don’t want to see you hurt.”

The words hit you harder than any sword could. You stared at him, confused and conflicted. “We’re enemies,” you whispered. “You’re supposed to want to see me fall.”

His hand remained on yours, warm and steady, grounding you in a way you hadn’t expected. “Maybe we don’t have to be enemies anymore,” he said softly. “We’ve fought for so long, but what if there’s another way?”

You wanted to argue, to push him away, but his words—his gaze—cut through your defenses. There was a sincerity in his eyes, a raw honesty that you hadn’t been prepared for. Your breath caught in your throat, and for a moment, you let yourself wonder if he was right.

Edmund stepped closer, his voice barely a whisper now. “You don’t have to fight this war alone. You don’t have to carry this burden anymore.”

You swallowed hard, your pulse quickening as he inched nearer. The battlefield, the chaos around you—all of it seemed to fade away. There was only him. And for the first time, you realized how much you had been fighting against yourself, not just him.

“Why do you care?” you asked, your voice trembling.

He hesitated for a moment, his hand brushing against your cheek. The touch sent a shiver down your spine. “Because… I think I’ve been fighting against myself too,” he admitted. “I’ve hated this war as much as you do.”

You stared at him, searching his face for any sign of deceit, but there was none. Just vulnerability. A rawness you hadn’t expected to see in him.

Before you could stop yourself, you leaned in, your breath mingling with his. His eyes flickered down to your lips, and for a heartbeat, the world stood still. Then, slowly, cautiously, he closed the distance between you.

His lips met yours in a tentative kiss, soft and warm, like a promise. Your heart raced, and for a moment, you forgot everything—the war, the pain, the years of hatred. All that mattered was this. Him.

When you finally pulled back, your breath was shallow, and his eyes were filled with a mix of relief and something deeper. “We don’t have to keep fighting,” he whispered, his forehead resting against yours.

For the first time in years, you let yourself believe him.

[floral-force]

Hi! I saw your requests are currently open, I've never requested anything before, so I hope I'm doing this right. I saw this prompt:

"Here, let me buy you a new one"

and I imagined it with Simon Riley. Honestly, I think that man is too traumatised to meet his s/o in his line of work, man would be worried sick about his partner's life and I jist think it would cause him anxiety looking out for his partner's and own head on a mission. If he were to meet his s/o, I believe it would be accidentally, like he bumps into his s/o and spills her coffee or vice versa. He admires them for a moment, but continues on with his life. And then he happens to stumble upon them more often and slowly starts falling for them... I'd like the readee to be female, but it's okay with me if the reader is g/n. Also, a slowburn would be just right for my idea.... Hope this is not too bothersome, ty regardless if you decide to write it or not <3

I also personally think our beloved simon wouldn't be able to mentally focus with his SO in the field. some folks think he wouldn't be able to fall for a civ, but I’m personally more of a fan of that or a medic!reader. and, I'll die on the hill that he's a gentleman when the moment calls for it. I write requests as drabbles and short one shots (esp since im editing a few wips) so I tried to get the slow burn in as best as I could. I hope you enjoy this nonnie!!

(requests are open! search the tags #prompt requests or #prompts and send me an ask!)

Are You Mine?

Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

summary: He bumps into her far too often for it to be mere coincidence. Suddenly, a spilled coffee leads to something more, and Simon falls deeper into the puddle he caused all those months ago.

words: 1.7k+

warnings/tags: 18+ only/NO MINORS ALLOWED, innuendo, meet cute, soft!simon, fluff, allusions to smut, slow burn, gentleman!simon "ghost riley, soft!simon, Oxford and Lincoln college are mentioned

read on ao3 | masterlist | send a request

I. MARCH

Simon felt a small bump when he turned away from the register, and then a swear. He turned and saw a woman staring up at him, eyes wide. Coffee dripped down her hand and onto the floor, her mug half empty. This café was too damn small, and he was too damn broad. 

The woman glanced at the ground at the puddle and frowned. Simon’s heart hurt a bit at her defeated sigh, and he tapped her arm. 

“I’m so sorry,” he said, immediately cursing himself for the lame apology. 

She looked up at him again with her sparkling eyes and shrugged. “It’s fine. I’ll live.”

An American, he noted. And a pretty one, at that. 

He shook his head, suddenly warm under the balaclava. “No, no.” He jerked his head back to the register and pulled out his wallet. “Here, let me buy you a new one.”

She gave him a weak smile, obviously intimidated. “Sir, really, it’s okay— “

“Stop, love. Let me get this sorted.”

He stepped up to the register and asked the barista what she’d ordered, and the barista put it in. Simon paid and turned back around to the woman. A gentle smile teased her gorgeous lips, and Simon couldn’t help but smile a bit himself. Before he could get another word in, his order was called—four coffees, one for each of the 141—and he was rushing out the door into the rainy March day. 

II. MAY

Soap was relentless. Pint in hand, he was swaggering up to any woman in the tiny pub, seeing if any of them would bite. Gaz sat next to him, making him shake his head with jokes about Soap. The Scot was standing at the bar chatting up a girl, and Simon’s heart stopped when he saw the woman standing next to her. 

It was the girl from the coffee shop—the one he'd bumped into over two months ago. She wore a simple but sexy outfit—one that turned heads. It certainly turned his. He shook his head when she covered her pretty mouth after Soap made a terrible joke that was timed completely wrong. Gaz commented on it, but Simon didn’t hear it; he was too focused on gathering the strength to speak to the mystery woman. 

“I’ll be back,” he said gruffly to Gaz, rising to his feet and striding over to the woman. She noticed him when he stood at Soap’s side and looked directly at him, her eyes widening. 

“I-It’s you,” she gasped. To his surprise, she smiled. “You’re the guy who ruined my coffee!”

“And promptly bought you a new one, love—don’t forget that.” He gripped his drink tighter. “Didn’t forget me though, did’ya?”

She giggled at his quick retort. “How could I forget such a clumsy, handsome man?”

She remembered him after all that time. And she thought he was handsome. 

He stammered and Soap laughed before he could get any words out. Simon glared at him when the Scottish man clapped him on the back.

“I’ll leave’ya to it, lad,” he chittered, the woman he’d been chatting up following him away.

Simon stared at her and drank in her beauty. He noticed how she shifted under his gaze, how her eyes darted between his and the floor. The pub’s music seemed to fade into the background and echo as he took her in, noticing the way her outfit defined her delicious curves, the way her hand seemed to clench her drink when her eyes met his and stayed.

He broke the awkward silence. “Not afraid I’m gonna spill your drink again, are you, love?”

She laughed, the sound of it like gentle, tinkling bells. “No. I guess I just didn’t realize how—” she waved a hand up and down—“tall you are.”

He felt his cheeks redden. “The mask ain’t scarin’ you?”

“I’ve seen worse.” She took a sip of her drink, licking her lips.

“Like what, love?” He asked, leaning against the wooden counter.

“A 200-page book written in Britain from the 14th century.”

He chuckled, and she smiled up at him. “You’re right, lass—that’s far scarier than a mask.”

“Compared to that, you aren't scary at all.” 

“Care to give me your name, then?” She told him, and he repeated it, letting the sound linger on his lips. “That’s lovely.”

“And yours?”

“Simon.”

She smiled. “Pleasure to meet you, Simon.”

His chest warmed at the sound of her voice saying his name. Simon finished his drink, closing his eyes. When he opened them again to set the empty cup on the counter, she was staring up at him, something sultry in her expression.

“You know, you have really nice eyes.”

“You think so, sweetheart?”

She nodded and took a step closer. Simon’s heart quickened. He could smell her perfume—something sweet and seductive—and took a deep inhale, hoping to etch it into his memory and be reminded of her every time he got a whiff of something even remotely like it.

“I’d love to see them up close.”

Simon’s eyes crinkled. “That could be arranged, love.”

III. JUNE

In Early June, Simon asked to take leave from late June through mid-August. It had only been two weeks since he’d met her at the pub, and one since they’d met again randomly in a café. After that incident, he knew he needed to see her as much as he could. Price had given him a quizzical look, a thick brown eyebrow quirked as he read the papers. He’d stared at Simon, making him feel small standing in front of his captain’s desk. 

“This important to you, Lieutenant?”

“Yes, sir.”

Price had sighed, rubbing his temple. “We’ll see what Laswell has to say.”

Simon had nodded and left his office. 

One week later, his request had been approved, and he was packing his things to return to his flat.

His leave now approved, Simon was hoping he’d be able to convince her to stay in England just a while longer after she graduated from Oxford—the smart lass getting her Masters—and he’d been successful. 

She agreed after their date to some random bookstore that ended with her in his bed. Simon laughed when she confessed that she’d already broken the news to her family in the States that she was staying through the summer the day after they met again in early June by accident in a small café. 

“Awfully confident, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

She playfully shoved his bare, sweaty chest, her own body slick and shiny post-orgasm. 

“Don’t try me, Simon,” she scolded, her small smile betraying her attempt at a threat. “I can always get on a plane tomorrow.”

“We both know that ain’t true, love.” He dropped down to lay next to her on his side, running his hand down her torso and up again, watching her shiver.

“I can and will!” She exclaimed, hiding her growing smile under one of her delicate hands.

Simon pulled it away and kissed her, groaning when she placed her hand on his cheek. How he craved his lover’s touch. Just one taste was all it took.

IV. JULY

“Simon, English flats are not made for heat,” she muttered, fanning herself with a stack of papers. “Especially yours.”

He chuckled. She sat on the other side of his small couch, knees slightly spread apart, cotton shorts riding up her soft thighs. She gave him a shake of the head, rolling her eyes. 

“You’re the one who chose to extend her stay into the summer, love. Not me.”

“I’d say you sealed the deal back when I ran into you in that café near Lincoln and you put the moves on me.” She looked over at him, a few baby strands of hair stuck to her sweaty brow. She looked lovely, even when she was sweating from a heat wave. 

Simon smirked at her, raising his eyebrow. “Is that so?”

She bit her lip and set the papers down on his dingy coffee table, scooting closer to him. Her sticky skin touched his, and she touched his shin with her toes. He ran a finger along her jawline, leaning down to catch her lips with his, the sweat on his brow running down his temples as he got even hotter when she placed her hand on his thigh, ghosting over the hem of his short cotton underpants, finally coming to rest over his crotch. She pulled back and smiled up at him, running her hand through his hair. He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch; he craved it, had been craving it ever since he’d seen her in May and gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek and she tugged him in to kiss his lips. In that moment, she’d sealed his fate. Simon was greedy for her, always needing her.

He still hid things from her—all she knew about his job was that he was military, but nothing specific—and always redirected any conversations that could lead to him discussing his past. Maybe he’d let her in one day. For now, he wanted to enjoy this—her skin on his, her tongue in his mouth, her scent lingering in his bed and mixing with his. Simon forgot everything when he was with her, choosing to bask in her glow instead. She blasted away the darkness within him with her radiance, gave him relief from his torments when she held him. 

He clicked his tongue when she gave his already-hardening cock a soft squeeze. “Don’t go teasin’ me unless you’re ready for the consequences,” he warned.

She straddled him, pressing her thin cotton tank top to his bare chest. His eyes fluttered close when she placed her hands on his cheeks, tapping her fingers. She kissed him again and Simon placed his hand at the base of her skull, the other gripping her waist. He felt her pull back and breathe against his mouth, something light and needy.

“Choices have consequences,” she said simply. “And I’m ready to face them.”

Simon shook his head and grabbed the underside of her thighs and rose to his feet, smiling when she squealed. He carried her to the bedroom and set her on his bed, letting her rest on her back and kissing her smiling lips once more.

He'd never been happier to have ruined someone’s drink.

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[thrawns-babygirl]

Hey, can i put in request for our snarky hotshot?

I saw this prompt somewhere and really liked it

“want a massage? i’ve been told that i’m..very good with my hands” and if you’re bored it can lead to some dirty dirty? If that’s the case, body worship maybe? TY soo very much <3

Sorry this took so long lmao. Moving house has been KILLING me. I loved writing this and I hope I did the prompt justice :)

And yes I will continue writing Medic!Reader. Doc is just the perfect gender neutral nickname I am a sucker for when the fic writes itself. No I will not stop and no one can make me.

Crosshair x GN!Reader

(This is my first time attempting to write an actual GN penetration fic so lemme know if it leans to heavily in one way or another. It can be read as either PiA or PiV imo)

Rating: E (18+) Warnings: Unprotected sex, creampie Word Count: 1700+

Masterlist

Crosshair was loitering again. It wasn’t an uncommon thing; he wasn’t exactly subtle about being soft on you. It was a source of constant teasing from his brothers, much to his chagrin. He was very firm about it “No I do not have a ‘crush’ on the doctor Wrecker, grow up” or “they’re just so fun to tease” which would result in knowing looks shared between his brothers as he stormed off to loiter in your office as you finished paperwork.

Today was no different.

You were hunched over your desk, trying to finish off the last of the medical reports so that you could get to sleep at a reasonable hour for a change as you were once again interrupted by the drawl of a certain handsome sniper.

“Your posture is terrible, that’s gotta be bad on your back” you look over to where Crosshair is leaning against the wall of your office, arms crossed over his chest still clad in his armor moving the ever-present toothpick in his mouth from one side to the other. Fixing him with a scowl you adjust your posture slightly before replying “Well no one is asking you to hang around and berate me about it, don’t you have someone else you would rather annoy?” he hits you with his trademark smirk “No”.

You simply sigh before getting back to your work. You try to ignore him, honestly you do, but it’s difficult. His presence is a source of constant conflict for you, he is devilishly handsome, and he knows it. He enjoys flustering you with flirtatious comments and small touches when the situation allows, he enjoys the way you blush and stumble over your words at his teasing, he enjoys it far too much.

You grunt softly as rub your back, maybe he did have a good point. Your back was sore, your eyes were tired, and you wanted nothing more than to go back to your quarters, take a hot shower and fall into your semi-comfortable bed.

“Told you so” you can almost hear the smirk in his voice as he moves off the wall towards you. You sigh and shut off your terminal before glancing over at Crosshair who is now standing behind you, looming over you with his imposing height. “I’m heading back to my quarters Cross, go find someone else to piss off” you tried to snap at him, but your voice just sounded exhausted instead as you rub your shoulders. You stand up and leave towards the direction of your room, attempting to ignore the sniper who was following you.

“You know…” he starts as you look over your shoulder at him, raising an eyebrow “I’ve been told that I’m very good with my hands, if you want a massage” you think about the offer, wondering if this is a joke or if one of you has actually taken the final step in this ‘will they wont they’ situation you’ve found yourselves in. Deciding to throw caution to the wind you simply nod and lead the way to your quarters.

Once inside you feel a little unsure of how to proceed, you never really thought either of you would take this final step towards… whatever it is that’s happening right now, and you never thought this far ahead. You decide to lay down on your bed, face in your pillows as you hear some shuffling from Crosshair behind you.

You feel Crosshair’s long toned legs against your thighs, something that is decidedly not the hard jab of plastoid and you lift your head up to look behind you only to be greeted with the sight of Crosshair in only the bottom half of his blacks straddling your thighs busying himself with a small packet of lubricant that look eerily familiar. “Did… did you swipe that from my office?” you move your head back down into the pillows to stop Crosshair from seeing your blush as he tuts “where else would I have gotten it?” you decide not to question it as you feel his hands under the hem of your shirt. “You gotta take this off doc, I need room to work” you silently follow his command as you shift and allow him to help you remove your shirt. Ignoring the burning heat in your face as you lay your head against your arms on your pillow.

You shudder slightly as you hear him open the packet and rub his hands together, successfully stifling an embarrassingly desperate moan as his hands make contact with your back. He wasn’t kidding, he is really good with his hands. You feel all your tension leave you as he runs his hands along your back, working through the knots and kinks in your muscles as you feel yourself melting into the mattress.

He works his hands lower until his fingers are digging into your hips as his thumbs work on a particularly tense area of your lower back. You fail to stifle your moan this time, you also fail to notice the sharp inhale and movement of Crosshairs hips to the sound. You’re lost in the bliss of Crosshair’s hands as he finally breaks the silence that has settled over the two of you “You know doc… I think I could get better access if you moved your pants down a little” you both know this is probably untrue, but at this point you really don’t care. The two of you have been moving around this for far too long and if this is what it takes for you to finally step over the line, you’re more than ready. You nod as you feel Crosshair’s hands snake their way under your pants and underwear, pulling them down slowly as he reveals more of your skin to him.

“You’re… stunning doc” his voice is breathy with a barely contained desire as he runs his hands down over your bare skin, running his fingers over the flesh of your ass kneading the soft skin before he leans down and starts trailing a line of kisses down your back. “You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted this… wanted you” he continues pulling your pants down further. “I need you to tell me you want this too” his voice has dropped into a breathy whisper as he speaks to you.

You raise your head slightly to look behind you, his face and chest are dusted with a light blush, his eyes are blown wide with lust and there is a very prominent bulge in his blacks. You nod, wetting your lips as you find the words “yes… yes I want this too”. You watch as Crosshair lets out a shuddered exhale and moves to find the leftover lube from the packet before placing your head back into your pillow.

“Just lie back and enjoy Doc…” his voice is husky as he returns his hands to your body, running them along your thighs up towards the swell of your ass, placing kisses along your back, his stubble sending tingles through your body as he brings his now slick fingers to your entrance. You tense slightly as he slowly pushes a single finger inside you, pumping it in and out for a bit before adding a second scissoring them slightly. “Fuuuck… you’re so tight doc… can’t wait to feel you around my cock” you shudder at his voice, the feeling of his long fingers filling you up, soft moans falling from your lips as he moves the digits in and out of your tight entrance.

You whimper slightly at the feeling of his fingers leaving you, only to take a sharp inhale as you feel him move behind you, removing the bottom half of his blacks. You steal another quick glance behind you and gasp at the sight of him.

He’s huge, long and thick with precum beading at the tip. You watch as he pours the remainder of the lube onto his length, giving himself a few strokes before leaning over you, one hand beside your head as he uses the other to line himself up with your prepped hole. You moan as you feel the blunt head of his cock press against you before slowly pressing in. The sounds he makes as he slowly feeds his length inside you are utterly sinful, a long groan of your name leaves his lips as he holds himself above you with both arms, panting softly.

“Fuck… Doc you’re so fucking tight. You take my cock so well” his voice is shaky, as if he’s trying to hold himself back from slamming his hips into yours with reckless abandon. You turn your head again and nod, hoping that he gets the hint that he can start moving.

He does, his first thrusts are slow, tentative, gauging your reactions before he begins picking up the pace at your soft moans of his name. It’s not long before he’s moving his hips into yours, ripping pornographic moans from your chest that you would probably be embarrassed about if you weren’t so thoroughly engulphed in pleasure.

“Fuck just like that, you have no idea how long I’ve been wanting this Doc… You’re fucking perfect” he lets out another long groan as he fucks you with reckless abandon, the head of his cock hitting that perfect spot inside you repeatedly, bringing you closer and closer towards your release. His rhythm begins to faulter slightly as his breathing gets heavier “where...?” his voice is strained as he holds himself back from the edge “inside” you let out one long moan of his name as your climax washes over you, your legs shaking from pleasure as Crosshair slams his hips inside of you a few more times before letting out a sinful moan as his cock throbs and he finishes inside you, filling you with his cum.

He leans down against your back as you both pant, attempting to catch your breath, both of your bodies covered in a thin layer of sweat as you bask in your afterglows. He pulls his softening length out of you before disappearing to the refresher to grab you a damp towel, throwing it at you as he places a toothpick in his mouth.

“Not a word of this to my brothers. If I have to hear ‘I told you so’ from Hunter I’ll deck him”  

@where-is-my-mind-tho @antishadow2021 @healingskywalker @crosshairlovebot@ilovestarwarsmen725 @vincentferard

[astermath]

hey aster, happy 1k!!! love your work and you fully deserve all the love💗💗

so i’m sending in a prompt from idiots to lovers (“you’re so cute.” “what did you just say?” “i said you look like a boot.”) for robin buckley because this literally SCREAMS her

aww tysm that’s so sweet, hope you enjoy and ty for sending in a request! <3

♡ aster's 1K celebration ♡

wc: 0.9K

tags: lovestruck robin, crushing, fem!reader (duh), just some pining lol, not rlly proofread! normal sized font below

Robin is a girl that tends to fall hopelessly in love. She can’t simply have a crush, or think someone is cute, no, she always falls head over heels, straight into a vat of hearts and sappy confessions.

And usually that’s fine, that works for her. Her crushes give her a reason to go to school, to get stuff done, to put extra effort into her appearance. But she tends to admire from a distance. She knows how much she talks, and how hard it is to stop talking too.

That’s why she usually just sticks to looking at you from a distance, cheek leaning against the palm of her hand as she daydreams about the dates you could go on. In the timeline where she musters up the courage to talk to you.

But it seems that the universe has other plans. The universe being your English teacher, and the plans being a duo project about a country of your choosing.

You couldn’t choose your groups, which you didn’t mind, you could work with just about anyone. You’re smart, you could probably do this whole thing by yourself.

But to Robin, this was a huge deal. She’d never even talked to you before, besides the one time she had to apologise for bumping into you in the hallway. She still dreams about that interaction.

And now she’s gone for embarrassingly daydreaming about you to sitting in your room, surrounded by books about Italy, writing down interesting facts and discussing the order of the presentation.

But her mind is only halfway there. It’s hard to focus on wine, Rome, and pasta when you’re sitting right in front of her like this. The sunlight coming through the window is hitting your skin just right, she can smell your perfume, and your PJ shorts are the cutest she’s ever seen.

“So, do you have anything to add, or can I start writing out my part of the presentation already?”

“You look so cute.” The words leave her lips before they can even register in her own brain. It’s like her body has decided it needs to tell you how adorable you look, without her mind being able to pull the brakes at all.

You look up, quirking an eyebrow, clearly confused by what you’ve heard. “Sorry, what did you just say?”

“Ah! I, uh—“ She sits up straighter, her eyes averting to the papers scattered in front of her, cheeks tinging pink from embarrassment. She’s not great at coming up with excuses, but she doesn’t exactly have a choice right now.

“I said you uh… You look like a boot.”

Shit.

She could have slapped herself right then and there.

'Seriously, Buckley? A boot? That’s the best thing you could come up with? Not fruit, or something else nice?'

“Oh,” You look up, scratching the back of your neck for a moment. “Well, like a nice boot?”

“What qualifies as a nice boot?”

“I don’t know,” you smile, leaning backwards onto your hands. “I like cowboy boots. And gogo boots are cute too.”

“Huh. I see.” She tries not to make it seem like a big deal, but she enjoys learning small things like this about you.

A few moments pass, and she’s already got her nose shoved back into a book while you try to write down a good introduction.

“Did you actually have something to add though?” You ask, looking up from your paper.

“To the presentation?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, I don‘t know.” She puts the book down, thinking it over for a moment. “Maybe that the word America comes from the Italian language?”

"Huh, seriously? That's really cool." You smile, and it makes the blood rush straight to her cheeks again. You're already noting it down under the 'fun facts' section of the presentation, your pen scribbling away as Robin tries to compose herself.

"Yeah, uh, Vespucci came up with it. Italian explorer." She fiddles with the bit of frayed fabric at the hem of her shirt to keep her hands busy.

"You're really smart, aren't you?" You flash her another smile, and she thinks it actually might kill her this time. There's no way someone could look this pretty.

"Oh, uhm... I-- I guess." She chuckles bashfully. "You're pretty smart too, though. You always know the answers to like, every question in class. Even though you never raise your hand."

You grin, knowing damn well that's out of pure laziness and not shyness at all. "Yeah, I guess so. 'M glad I got stuck with you on this assignment though. You're full of interesting facts, Buckley."

She smiles, averting her eyes in hopes of not looking like the complete lovestruck fool she is. "Yeah, well, maybe I'll teach you some Italian here and there too."

"Wait-- you speak Italian?" You sit up straight, eyes practically sparkling after finding out this new juicy bit of information.

"Well, only halfway so, but I like learning languages. Keeps the brain juicy, you know?"

You chuckle at that, leaning your elbows onto your knees and letting your cheeks rest on your palms. "You're somethin' else, you know that Buckley?"

"You're one to talk."

"Well, you did say I looked like a boot. I guess that counts as 'something else'."

The both of you start laughing, and suddenly she doesn't feel so bad about her slipup from earlier anymore. Or this project. Bless the universe for putting her in your room that day.

-

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[theorphicangel]

HI LOVE <3 GRATS ON THE 500 ksdfksjdf

can i get “maybe this is it, because I can’t do this anymore” because i wanna be in pain :') i'm a sucker for hurt/comfort but if you wanna kill me with all angst no comfort i will happily die in (angsty) peace <3

hiii kat!! thank you so so much for sending in a prompt! Now I was considering going fully angst but I do want to see you live as my mutual so I settled for comfort 🙏🫡

enjoy :)

send in a prompt for my 500 event!

tw: blood, grief, death, gn! reader

Scarlet blood decorated your skin, imprinted like tattoo ink. It will take you days to scrub it out completely. The fade of crimson never truly disappears.

Each time you went on a mission you never really thought that it would be as god-awful as the last, and most of the time – and most fortunately – you were right.

But not this time.

This time, it was the worst of the worst. Unimaginable. As if the pits of hell collectively decided that out of all days, today would be the perfect time to unleash eternal damnation upon the entire corps.

Today, the universe chose to make you a witness to the most gruesome scenes ever known to the human eye and to let you live with it.

That was truly the worst kind of punishment.

The punishment of being the lucky few who survived after seeing the rampages of hell. The so-called lucky ones who have yet to fully comprehend what they have been through and face immediate backlash from hundreds when returning to the walls. It was only then that you understood the idea that survival was possibly the next thing worse than death.

Heads bowed, a deep sea of dark green cloaks was all the eye could see on the return home. Bodies numb and battered, stomachs empty and nauseous, mental state shattered and fragile, this is all that is left of the Survey Corps.

The contact between each other’s eyes was how communication flowed. After a tragedy like this, only a set of weary eyes could portray the answers to the unspoken questions. In silence, the poor numbers of survivors trailed one after the other, the optimism once held in these hearts were now killed by the fate of the world.

Knuckles tight, your hands gripped the reins of your horse. Your limbs shook, unable to cope with the amount of grief and trauma that you had just seen. It was unbearable, having to go through it time and time again, mission after mission, hope after hope that this time would be the last time that you would see your comrades die.

You don’t think you’d ever reach that point. Internally, you had already decided that this would be the last time. You were done.

Silently, you disappeared from the small crowd. And after tying up your horse in the stable, you slipped away not caring to be present for a register. The worn soles of your boots thunder as you walk down the soulless corridor, cold and empty, only now coming to life.

Making a sharp turn, you meet the closed door of your office. Bloodstained hands meet the cold doorknob and you twist with all the strength that you have in your own drained body to get the door open. You only manage to take a few steps forward before collapsing on your office floor. Like the rest of the headquarters, it’s cold and empty, and there’s already a stack of papers on your table ready to be signed.

For the first minute or two, you realize that you have no energy to cry, instead choosing to slump on the ground, your body melting into the floor.

It’s only a matter of time before it all sinks in. The visions and raw images race back into your mind like a film scene rolling before your eyes. Before you know it your eyes are watering and you’re unable to stop the tears from flowing. Neither are you able to suppress the deep cry inside you. Hands shaking, you can’t stop, like you're not even in control of your own body. You can’t stop no matter how hard you try.

Forcing yourself to take in a breath, the tears only pause momentarily before flowing all over again.

You don’t even know how long he’s been there. You never really noticed your office door open or even hear his steps. Wiping away at your blurry eyes was when you found him there, right there in front of you. He was a splitting image of you. Bloodstained and exhausted.

Inaudibly, he’s beside you on the ground, his nimble, cold fingers gently holding the tips of yours. His face is filled with immediate concern on how much you’re currently shaking, and soon he unbuttons his own cape and wraps it around you, the warmth of it already doing wonders.

Coming to a sudden yet much needed halt, your body has run out of tears. Eyes red, skin patchy, head throbbing, your body has nothing left in you. Miserably, you sit, shaking your head slowly as you hiccup. Levi’s hand slowly rubs circles into your back. Pathetically you rub your eyes one more time, skin irritated by the amount of contact.

“I can’t–”

It merely comes out as a whisper, your throat dry and croaky. It takes you a few times to swallow before you can repeat yourself a little louder.

“I can’t do it.”

Levi raises a brow, his concern never once left his face, not even for a minute. “Can’t do what?”

“This.” you mumble, raising your hands. “They say that after the worst you can’t do it anymore, that it’ll break you and maybe— maybe this is it, because I can’t do this anymore.” Your voice wobbles before the end, breaking off as a new set of fresh tears reach your waterline.

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true!” you exclaim, “I’m finished. I can’t keep doing this anymore, Levi. How many people do I have to watch die in front of me before we can reach freedom? It’s like a fucking nightmare I can’t wake up from, and just when I start to get hope, just that tiniest spark of hope inside me, it just fucking dies and I end up with nothing, I end up with nothing, Levi.”

“You don’t have nothing.” He begins, his tone quiet and gentle with you. “You have your squad and—“

“And so what? One day I’ll lose them too and you know it. I can’t keep pretending that I’m strong enough for this, I can’t do it. I’m–” You shut your eyes, tilting your head upwards. The words leave your lips in a whisper. “I’m just so fucking tired of this.”

He gets it. He really and truly does understand where you’re coming from. Even when it feels like nobody understands, he gets it. Because at one point in his life, he had reached that conclusion too.

Levi swallowed thickly letting the silence creep back in after your words. His eyes were casted downwards, searching for an answer, anything to comfort you. It took a few moments before he was ready to say something.

“I know I don’t have the answer, none of us do, and trust me, we’re all tired. Every single one of us. Every single day everyone wakes up and thinks, ‘why am I doing this?’ ‘Why did I choose this path, this endless path of not knowing if I’ll make it to tomorrow?’ But the thing is…we have no choice but to keep going.”

Levi paused for a second. “ I know it doesn’t seem like it but little by little we are making progress. With each and every mission we are coming back with new information and intel in which we didn’t know about before. In fact, I bet you Hange will storm your office tomorrow with something new that they found.”

His words coax out a subtle smile out of you, you could just imagine that happening.

“That is why we do it, so we can get new information, to discover shit that we haven’t even thought about yet. It is a sacrifice but no one who steps foot into the Survey Corps isn’t aware of that.”

Levi took a deep sigh, watching as your tears slow down your cheeks. You felt his exhale of air reach your skin. A reminder he was here, right here with you.

“Keep going, “ He tells you, gently. “For me at least. For us.”

It was possibly the most selfish thing that he had ever asked for in his entire lifetime and the first selfish thing he had asked for but he knew that this was your breaking point.

If he couldn’t get you to promise him this, then there was no hope left for you. Just this once he needed to be selfish and it was all a no brainer for him if it meant saving you in the long run.

His hands cup your face, bloodstained and all. Because of your own blurry eyes you couldn’t catch the way that his eyes welled up.

“Promise me this one thing.” He mumbled. “Promise you’ll keep going for me.”

“Levi–”

“Promise me.” His voice grew loud all of a sudden, echoing off the walls of your quiet office. His tone was stern as if he was giving an order to his squad, the only difference was…you could hear the fear in his voice.

He was only being strict on you because he was so afraid of losing you. That was his own breaking point. And if it ever came to that then that would be it. He wouldn’t be able to do it anymore. He wouldn’t know how to. He’d rather be sacrificed to the titans than ever imagine himself in a scenario like that.

You meet his eyes, fear evident in them. For him you’ll do it. Whatever it takes.

“I promise.”

“Good.” his fingers steadily wiped away the trail of teardrops. “I won’t ever let you down. You remember that, okay?”

You nod, trusting him full heartedly without a second thought.

Again he was being selfish, guiding you down a path that could potentially lead to disaster, but it needed to be done, for the sake of saving you. Could it be something he will potentially regret in the near future?

He doesn’t know. No one does.

But for now, he’s willing to do whatever it takes to keep you by his side.

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[lyranova]

Heya! Love your works! I was wondering if you could do a Yuno x reader one with genre hurts- comfort? Here's the prompt list:

Fluff (5.“Home stopped being a place when you entered my life.”)

Fluff (6. “You should probably go home.” “But I’m already home.”)

Angst (1. “I’m leaving.” “Of course you are, that’s all you know how to do.”)

General (3. “I love you.” “You shouldn’t.”)

Again, love your works and id love to see more of them! Ty! <3

(Also, sorry if my english isnt really good, its not my first language, haha. Sorry if this is a bit too much too! ^^')

Hiya anon! Of course I can, I'm sorry this came out more...angsty then hurt/comfort 😅, but I still hope you enjoy! And thank you so much, I'm so glad you enjoy my works that makes me happy to hear 🥺💕! And don't worry about your english it's perfect and is very good 🥰!

Word Count: 468

Warnings: Angst

------

“ I love you.’’

Yuno stared at them with a blank expression, he knew how nervous and hesitant they were to confess, and he had been seeing the signs that they had feelings for him beyond that of friendship. And he had been trying to put distance between them, but they just…completely ignored it.

“ You shouldn’t,’’ Yuno said coldly, he was doing his best to hurt them. He wanted them to have their heart broken, the reason? Because…he wasn’t good enough for them yet. He wanted to become Captain, and then eventually Wizard King, and once he achieved those things then he would consider himself good enough for them.

But right now, Yuno felt that he was lacking.

“ Why shouldn’t I?’’ They asked, their voice firm and determined, and Yuno sighed.

‘Please understand…I’m not good enough for you as I am now, please just wait a little longer, or find someone else who is good enough for you now.’ Yuno screamed at them in his head, but not a single word left his lips, instead he just continued staring blankly at them. Even has his heart clenched painfully tight in his chest.

“ Because you shouldn’t,’’ Yuno said, his tone continuing to be cold and distant, and he felt his heart clench even tighter as tears of frustration welled up in his friend's eyes.

“ You should go home now,” Yuno said softly as he turned around and began to walk away, but he stopped when he heard them sniffle behind him.

“ But, I already am home,” They said softly as they sniffled and wiped the tears from their eyes. “ Home stopped being a place the moment you entered my life.” They finished quietly, and Yuno brought a fist to his chest and grabbed his shirt tightly.

This, breaking their heart, was absolutely painful. At their words, he nearly dropped the cold act, ran towards them to scoop them up in his arms and tell them that he felt the same way and had for a while.

But he stopped himself.

“ I’m leaving, and I’ll pretend we never had this conversation.” Yuno threw over his shoulder as began to walk away again.

“ Of course you are, that’s all you know how to do.” They said coldly as they finished wiping their tears and watched him walk away. “ You’re such a cold-hearted jerk.” They added quietly under their breath, but Yuno still heard them.

Once Yuno rounded the corner, he leaned his back against the wall for support before quietly sliding down to the ground. He hated that he had to break their heart, especially considering he loved them just as much as they loved him. But he needed to become good enough, he needed to become stronger to protect them. They just needed to wait a little longer…just a little longer.

-----

Thank you all so much for reading and I hope you all have a good day~!

[brattyprettysub2]

Love your stories. Given that you asked for prompts, how about:

medical doctor treating a patient for his injuries that also think they need some additional kinky treatment, for his own good of course.

I'm sorry for the late response to this lovely prompt! I received it, then left for a multi-day hiking trip.

I hope you enjoy it <3 It took a pet play twist that I wasn't expecting <3

All characters in this piece of fiction are role-playing adults.

*

Kitty supposes that it's his own fault. He sprained his ankle tripping down some stairs and he has been whining a lot and when Master asked him if it was really that bad, he said yes and demanded head scritches and shoulder rubs and tea with honey and lemon.

But Master really really didn't need to call the vet.

The 'vet' in question is Master's friend. Bill? Billy? Kitty doesn't remember his name, but he supposes it doesn't really matter because he's been told to call him Doctor.

"It's fine," he says, as Master lifts him up onto the dining room table. Usually, it's hot how easily Master moves him around, lifting him and manhandling Kitty exactly where he wants him, but now, Kitty wishes that his struggles against Master's strength did something. "It's fine, just a bit swollen, you don't need --"

Master frowns at hima nd reaches for a gag, but Doctor shakes his head. "What a chatty kitty you have!" he says. He takes hold of Kitty's jaw and holds it firmly and looks right into Kitty's eyes. "It's almost like he thinks we can understand his silly kitty meows."

Kitty shifts on the table, held on all fours by Master's strong hands. He's not sure he likes this game... and he definitely doesn't like the slow smile that's creeping over Master's face.

 "He is a loud little thing," Master says. He moves his hand from Kitty's leg, and the thought of flinging himself from the table and running has barely crossed Kitty's mind when a leather strap is cinched tight over his calf, right where Master was just holding him. A moment later, the same has been done to his other leg, tying him to the table. "Always meowing for my attention. But he was so whiny today, I started to worry..."

Kitty hears the snap of latex gloves being pulled on. "There's no need to worry," Doctor says cheerfully. "Get his wrists down, would you? Kitties are often whiny when --"

Kitty's hands are yanked forward. With his legs tied down, he can't stop himself from falling painfully against the table, chest hitting first. All his air leaves him in a rush and he gasps for breath, almost missing the end of Doctor's sentence.

"When they need their bottoms checked."

Kitty yanks against Master's hold, but Master's strong, he's too strong. He's tying Kitty's wrists to the table legs and Kitty can't get away. A latex-covered hand grabs his ass and spreads his cheeks apart, and then a cold trickle of lube dribbles over Kitty's hole. Kitty hisses and tries to pull away, but he gets a smack for his troubles.

"I know, Kitty," Doctor says. He rubs the lube in firm circles over Kitty's tight hole. "It's okay, Doctor just needs to take your temperature... and make sure you're not backed up... and check that your kitty-willy responds when I press your kitty-button... It will all be over soon." He slides one long, slender finger into Kitty's ass and Kitty clenches around it helplessly. "I'll give Master some medicine, too. He can give it to you every day, your nice ginger kitty medicine, and make sure your bottom never bothers you again."

*

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[wooahaes]

Hi 👋🏾 For the prompts list request, I’d love to see what you’d dream up using 5 + 10, and if you’re feeling extra inspired, combine those with prompt 45 for Wonwoo (but only if you’re feeling it!)

sugar cookies & cozy nights

pairing: non-idol!wonwoo x gn!reader

prompt: 5 + 10 + 45 from these prompts  

word count: ~0.8k

warnings: food mention! sappy wonwoo. intentional lowercase + no proofreading.

daisy’s notes: ty for the request! i hope u enjoy some soft sappy wonwoo <3

as much as wonwoo loved living with mingyu, his decision to bring some friends over was enough for wonwoo to message you. he liked his friends, sure, but work was particularly draining and he wanted nothing more than a quiet night alone... and he couldn’t really have that with mingyu’s friends over.

so when you gave him the go-ahead to come over whenever, he threw whatever he’d need to spend the night with you into a bag and made the trip over. he already knew the code to your apartment, letting himself in since you knew he’d be up within the next few minutes (he’d texted you the moment he arrived at your building). you called out to him that you’d ordered takeout and it should be there in a few minutes, and he mumbled his thanks. the moment the door was closed behind him, he finally let out a long breath of relief. he felt at home again.

you’d been curled up in the couch, video game controller in hand. he asked if you cared whether he took a shower, told him to go ahead, and he stopped long enough to press a quick kiss to your temple before going on to your bathroom. he threw his bag into your bedroom while the water warmed up, and soon enough took solace in your bathroom. there was something comforting about using your body wash (sugar cookie this time--he was sure it was one of those holiday bottles you’d stocked up on while the seasonal line was in). as much as wonwoo didn’t admit it to you, he liked smelling like you. there was something comforting about it, whether it be something like your favorite body wash or the scarf he’d borrow from you that had whatever body spray you used still lingering on it.

he was sure you already knew how much he liked it. by the time he returned to you, noticing the dinner set on your coffee table while you still played your game, he was sure you could smell it on him. he sat down at one end of the couch, half-heartedly answering your question about how his day went with a mumbled “fine” before cozying up on the opposite end from you.

“dinner’s here if you want to go ahead,” you said, eyes still glued to your screen. “you don’t have to wait for me.”

he waited, watching you a moment longer. “honey?” he said, and watched the way you seemed to perk up at the term of endearment. they were rare, after all, and wonwoo liked saving them for moments like this. “can i hold you?”

you paused, turning to him with a smile. “so it’s that kind of day...” you mused aloud, but moved over nonetheless. he pulled you into his arms, and you settled in happily before returning to your game.

you were warm. this, wonwoo thought, was what he’d been wanting all along.

“wonwoo?” you said, not looking up. yet he could hear the teasing tone in your voice, “why do you smell like me?”

he felt a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, and he merely pressed a kiss into your hair. “it’s comforting.”

he always liked to hear the way you’d giggle in response. “someone’s sappy tonight...”

wonwoo curled his arms around you, snuggling in further. he shut his eyes, just happy to hold you for a bit. “can i say something else sappy?”

“go ahead.”

“i think we’re soulmates.” he idly fiddled with the sleeve of your shirt. “i mean... i think i have many soulmates. i think a lot of people do. mingyu’s one of my closest friends and i think he’s a soulmate, too...” his fingers grazed the skin of your arm, “you’re number one.”

“aw... babe,” you giggled. “i think we’re soulmates, too.” you’d paused your game again, snuggling into his chest happily. “you okay?”

was it that obvious he was tired? or was he only this sappy when he reached a certain point...? “i just needed somewhere quieter,” he said, “so i came to you.”

“ah.” you turned to face him, chest pressing against his own. “i can put on a movie if you want--”

“you don’t have to stop playing,” he quickly said. “i like watching you play.”

you had smiled at that, leaning in to press a quick kiss against his lips. “okay,” you said as you drew back. “i’m gonna take a break to eat, then. and then we can cuddle and i’ll keep playing. okay?”

whatever it took to get you back in his arms again, wonwoo was okay with... even if your cozy night in ended with him falling asleep while holding you, happy to have you there with him.

taglist: @wonuziex @synthetickitsune @twancingyunhao

[sequinsmile-x]

Hold On To You

It's New Year's Eve, Emily is overdue, and they are going to Dave's house for his annual party. What could possibly go wrong?

-x-

Hi friends!

Happy New Year!! This is a fic based on a prompt I got asking for something where Emily is overdue and goes into labour at Dave's house at New Year's.

As always, I got entirely carried away and this is just shy of 5k words.

I really hope you enjoy this and that you have a good New Year. I just wanted to take the chance to say thank you for all the comments, kudos, likes and reblogs this year - it truly means the world that my writing means something to people.

Here's to another year of me putting these idiots in just about every situation <3

For the last time in 2023, please let me know what you think <3

-x-

Warnings: Pregnancy, Labour, cursing (but who can blame Emily, she's having a baby on her friend's couch)

Words: 4.8k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

“We don’t have to go, sweetheart.” 

She rolls her eyes at her husband, something he misses entirely because he’s kneeling on the floor in front of her, dutifully tying her shoes with so much care and attention she doesn’t know whether to yell at him or kiss him. She rubs a circle on her belly, shifting on the couch in a failed attempt to get comfortable, something she’d been unable to do for months. 

“We should go,” she says, grunting at a particularly hard kick against her ribs, “Jack is excited to hang out with Henry, and he keeps saying he’ll make it to midnight this year.” 

It was Dave’s annual New Year's Eve party and whilst the idea of getting dressed up and spending her evening anywhere other than home was the last thing Emily wanted to do, she didn’t want to let Jack down. He was, at most, days away from being a big brother, and the last thing she wanted to do was make any potential resentment toward his new sibling start before they were even born. Jack’s initial reaction to finding out Emily was pregnant was less than ideal, his concerns that she would love the baby more than she loved him causing him to act out, to say things he immediately regretted and apologised for. Whilst that was months ago, it was something she still worried about, a seed in the back of her mind that had planted and bloomed, making her almost go out of her way to make sure Jack felt like a part of all of this. 

Aaron smiles up at her as he double loops the laces on her sneakers, “I think we both know he’ll be asleep in one of Dave’s spare rooms by 11 pm,” he stands up and sits next to her on the couch, looping one arm around her shoulders and resting his other hand on her bump, “You know he’d understand, Em.” 

She hums and rests her head on his shoulder, “I know, but we should still go,” she says, smiling when she feels the baby move, “Besides, if we stop going to things because I’m massively pregnant we’ll never go to anything again - I don’t think Pickle is ever coming out.” 

He can’t help but hide a smile in her hair at the use of the baby’s nickname, something that their actual name would soon replace. Whilst Aaron would have liked to have found out whether they were having a boy or a girl, Emily had insisted that they waited - wanting nothing more than to find out when her baby was passed to her, a well-earned surprise at the end of a long journey. He let her have the final call, knowing her opinion well outweighed his in matters like this, and instead, they’d settled on a nickname. 

Despite usually hating them, always pulling them out of burgers and handing them to him, she’d been craving pickles since the moment her nausea had stopped at the start of her second trimester. Their fridge was full of jars of them since she now had them with every meal, no matter how strange the combination, so naming their unborn child ‘Pickle’ made sense. 

“Only a couple more days to go until they induce you,” he says, kissing the top of her head, and she pulls back to look at him, her eyes narrowing. She was overdue by almost a week now and she was furious about it, her anger driving her to tears most nights as she struggled to get comfortable enough to sleep. Exhaustion and the almost primal need to hold her baby making her irritable. 

“No more ‘only a couple more days’ talk unless you’re the one with a baby pressing on your organs,” she says, and he nods, swallowing thickly, and she huffs out a short breath, “I don’t remember how it feels to breathe deeply.” 

“Of course,” he says, kissing her cheek, “Sorry, sweetheart.” 

She grimaces as pain washes over her, her belly briefly tight with it and she curses as she squeezes his hand, “Fucking practice contractions,” she grumbles, squeezing his hand tighter until the pain passes, “I’ve been having them all damn day,” she blows out a breath as it passes, “I swear to God if Spencer says something about them being ‘mild’ again I’m going to kill him.” 

Aaron clears his throat to cover a laugh, knowing it would do nothing short of getting him in trouble, and he rubs a soothing circle on her stomach as the tightness eases, “I don’t think he’ll ever say anything to you about pregnancy again after you made him cry last time.” 

She rolls her eyes, “I didn’t make him cry,” she denies, even though she knows she had, her cheeks burning with embarrassment as she remembers the conversation in question, “And anyway, he should never have called me a geriatric mother.” 

Jack comes bursting into the room before Aaron can say anything, the young boy's excitement palpable as he bounces on his feet in front of them. 

“Are we ready to go?” He asks, and Aaron nods, standing up and chuckling as he ruffles his son’s hair and he tries to dive out of the way. 

“We’re ready, Jack,” he says, digging his car keys out of his pocket and passing them over to him, “Why don’t you go wait in the car - we’ll be out in a minute.” 

Jack nods enthusiastically and runs out of the room, the sound of the front door being pulled open following shortly after. 

“You’re going to need to help me up,” Emily grumbles, smiling softly when she spots Aaron is already holding his hand out to her, “Thanks, honey.” 

She groans as she stands up, only letting go of Aaron’s hand when she’s up as straight as she can be there days. She winces as she presses her hands into her lower back, the ache more persistent than usual, and Aaron looks at her, his brows furrowed.

“You okay, sweetheart?” 

She nods, her lips pressed together as she shifts back and forth on her feet to ease some of the pressure, “I’m fine,” she says, looking down at her outfit and sighing, plucking at the dark green material of her dress, “I look like a blimp in a dress, but I’m fine.” 

He smiles and kisses her, his hand on her cheek as he holds her in place for a moment before he pulls back, “You look beautiful.” 

She hums and shakes her head at him, “You’re a liar, Aaron Hotchner,” she says, stamping her lips against his to stop him from arguing with her, “But I love you for it.” 

She groans quietly as she follows him out of the house, her waddle slowing her down in a way she hadn’t known was possible, the ache in her back not diminishing at all. She runs her hand up and down her bump. 

“Come on Pickle,” she mutters to her baby, unable to stop herself from smiling when she feels a kick that feels like a response, “Let’s go sit on a couch in Uncle Dave’s house for a change of scenery.” 

___

She smiles and listens and laughs at the right moments, but she can’t say she’s enjoying herself. She’s uncomfortable in a way she didn’t know was possible, unable to find any relief at all as she consistently shifts back and forth on the couch. Aaron, whose endless patience for her only seems to irritate her more in a way she knows he doesn’t deserve, goes out of his way to make her as comfortable as possible. He brings her pillows from one of Dave’s bedrooms, positioning them behind her back because he knows it’s better than the cushions from the couch itself, and he gets her whatever food she can stomach. 

She grimaces as another practice contraction starts to build, her grip on Aaron’s knee night as she places her hand there, and the only thing she can think is that she’s incredibly grateful Jack and Henry are in another room playing. 

“Are you okay, Em?” JJ asks, her eyebrows furrowed as she looks at her. Emily grits her teeth and nods, blowing out a slow breath as the pain reaches its peak. 

“I’m fine,” she says, smiling tightly as Aaron places his hand over hers on her knee, “It’s just Braxton Hicks,” she says, her body relaxing as the contraction passes, “I’ve been having them all day.”

“Are…are you sure they are Braxton Hicks?” Spencer asks, looking slightly nervous as everyone looks over at him. He clears his throat before continuing, “Only, they aren’t usually in a pattern. And when you got here they were 12 minutes apart and now they are closer to 7.”

“You’ve been timing her contractions?” Derek asks, frowning at Spencer, “That’s a little weird, Reid. Even for you.”

“It’s a pattern,” Spencer says, shrugging his shoulders, “I’m good at recognising patterns,” he looks back at Emily and cowers slightly under her glare, “I’m just saying, are you sure you’re not in labour?”

She scoffs and shakes her head, pressing her hand into her bump, “I’m not in labour,” she says, the denial sounding weak even to her own ears, and she turns to look at Aaron, “I’d know if I was in labour or not, right?” 

Aaron links his fingers through hers and squeezes her hand reassuringly. As worried as he was, especially because he had a feeling Spencer could be right, he knew this was not the time for him to freak out. He had to be there for his wife. 

“Do you think you could be?” He asks, ignoring the presence of their friends, all of his focus on her, on the way he could see her already frayed nerves coming even more unravelled. 

“I…don’t think I am-” she says, cutting herself off as she looks down at her lap, grimacing at the wet feeling between her legs, “Okay, I definitely am in labour,” she says, sounding much calmer than she feels as she looks back up at Aaron, “My water just broke.” 

“Are you sure?” He asks, looking her up and down. He’s aware of how their friends spring into action, how all of them stand up, but his focus is still on her. 

“Well, either that or I just peed myself on Dave’s couch.” 

“That couch is made of Italian leather,” Dave complains, taking a step back as Emily looks sharply at him, her glare followed by everyone else's, and he nods to himself, “It’s fine, it can be wipe cleaned.” 

Aaron makes sure his stern gaze is fixed on his friend for a beat longer than necessary before he looks back at his wife, “We’ll get you to the hospital, okay?” 

She nods, but her response is cut off as another contraction rolls through her, making her yell out as she grasps his hand, her nails digging into his skin, “Holy shit this one hurts.” 

“That wasn’t seven minutes,” Penelope says, wide-eyed as she looks back at Spencer, “I thought you said you were timing them.”

“I was,” he says, close to stuttering, “But maybe she’s having a precipitous labour,” he says, rolling his eyes when everyone except Aaron looks at him like he’s insane, “A fast labour. It comes on quickly. There are risk factors, including giving birth in an unsterilised environment-” 

“God I regret letting you read my pregnancy books on the jet,” Emily breathes out, cutting him off before he can carry on, her teeth clenched as the contraction barely lets up before she starts to have another one, “Fuck I’m having another one.” 

She rests her head against Aaron’s shoulder, her hands in tight fists around his shirt, and she desperately tries to breathe through it. Everything around her except the pain and him disappears. She’s vaguely aware of Aaron telling Dave to call an ambulance and asking JJ to go get some towels. He then turns his attention back to her, soft words of reassurance against her ear as she grunts. She pulls back to look at him and she’s grateful for how calm he seems, some of her panic eased by the way he looks at her. A sense of serenity that briefly makes her forget she was in what felt like advanced labour on their friend's couch. 

“We need to go,” she chokes out, shaking her head as he holds her steady where she’s sitting, stopping her from standing up, “We need to get to the hospital.” 

“Dave is calling for an ambulance, sweetheart,” Aaron says, cupping her cheek, wiping away tears she hadn’t realised had fallen, “I don’t want to risk getting stuck in traffic with you in this much pain, okay?” 

She hears what he hasn’t said, that this is happening too quickly. That if he was able to get her up, something she wasn’t entirely sure was possible even though she’d tried to stand, it was unlikely he’d get her all the way to the car. Even if he did, there was every chance she wouldn’t make it to the hospital. 

She whimpers, a sound she hates, as she shakes her head at him again, the pain rolling through her unrelenting, “I can’t have a baby here,” she says, “This wasn’t the birth plan. I was meant to be in the hospital, with painkillers and an epidural,” she groans in pain, looking past Aaron to see their friends still just standing there, “And it was meant to just be us.” 

Aaron’s heart fractures in his chest at how vulnerable she sounds. It was something he knew she’d hate, especially in front of their friends, so he knows he has to do something - that he has to give her back some semblance of control of a situation that had rapidly gotten out of their hands. He turns to look at his friends, his expression stern, hoping he leaves no room for argument.

“All of you need to get out of here now,” he says, watching how Derek and Penelope frown, the latter already stepping closer to them, “She doesn’t need an audience for this, so please go keep the kids company, make sure Jack isn’t worried, but get out of here.” They nod and start to leave but he stops them, “Reid, don’t go too far, just stay on the other side of the door, in case we need your help.” 

Spencer nods and follows the others out, pulling the door behind him until it was mostly closed, leaving just a small gap he could talk through if necessary. 

Aaron turns back to Emily and smiles in a way he hopes is encouraging, “See, it’s just us now, okay, baby?” He says and she nods, her teeth sinking into her lower lip as she tries to stop herself from yelling out in pain again, tears streaming down her cheeks with the effort. 

“The ambulance is on the way but they said it might take some time,” Dave says through the crack in the door, “They said to examine her and if the baby does come to clear its airways and leave the-”

Aaron can see how every word Dave is saying is making Emily feel worse, the shock setting in on top of the pain she was in, so he cuts him off, even though he knows he’s just trying to help. 

“Thanks, Dave,” he says, his tone of voice making his feelings clear, “Go wait with the others, keep an eye out for the ambulance.” 

There’s a brief pause before Dave replies, JJ’s voice quiet in the background as she talks to him, “The towels are just inside the door for you.” 

Emily looks over at the soft, white, towels that JJ had placed on the floor for them and she groans, “God, we’re going to spend a fortune replacing those towels for Dave.”

“I think he can afford to replace them himself,” Aaron chuckles, his relief at a small flash of his wife peeking through from underneath her fear nothing short of palpable. He kisses her forehead, “I’ll get them, I’ll be right back.” 

She nods, unable to say anything as the relentless pain makes her feel nauseous. She places her hands on her stomach and tries to breathe, “I know I kept saying you needed to get out of there, kid,” she says, choking on a laugh, “But this isn’t what I meant.” 

Aaron walks over to the door and picks up the towels and he looks through the crack in the door. He’s grateful that the only person outside the room is Spencer, who is sitting on the floor, his back to the door, patiently waiting to help if he is needed. 

Aaron turns back to look at his wife, frowning when he sees she’s trying to lean down, her fingers grasping for the laces on her shoes that he’d tied so neatly earlier. 

“What are you doing, Em?” He asks, rushing back over and placing the towels on the arm of the chair. He puts his hand on her leg and stops her, taking over undoing her shoes for her. 

“I didn’t want to get my shoes on Dave’s couch,” she says, reaching out and grasping the sleeve of Aaron’s shirt as the pain gets worse, “Fuck,” she closes her eyes, shaking her head as she feels a lot of pressure, “I think I need to push.” 

“I think this couch is about to have a lot worse than your shoes on it,” Aaron replies, making quick work of taking her other shoe off too, letting them fall to the floor without worrying about tidying them up. He helps her so she’s lying on the couch and he’s sitting between her legs. He shifts so his hand is on her knee, squeezing it so she looks at him, “We need to get your underwear off, okay?” 

She wants to say no, wants to refuse, but she knows she can’t. She knew this baby was coming here and now, the urge to push making her entire body so tense she thought she could shatter into a million pieces. She nods and lifts her hips, letting him pull the material down her legs. 

He stuffs her underwear into his pocket, not wanting her to feel any more exposed than she already would if their friends were to walk in and see her underwear on the floor. He looks up at her when he hears her laugh, a curious look on his face as he tilts his head. 

“I think you did that the night we ended up in this mess,” she says, her hand on her stomach as she nods towards his pocket, “Although I seem to remember that underwear being sexy and not big enough to cover the Potomac.” 

He shakes his head at her and squeezes her knee again, “You look sexy in anything,” he winks at her and she tries to glare at him but it’s lost as a sound that he can only describe as animalistic comes out of her. He remembers that sound, and it briefly pulls him back to when Haley was having Jack. It feels like it happened to a different person, like he was no longer the man who had stood next to Haley’s side and held her hand as she gave birth to their son. He guessed on some level he wasn’t the same man he was different, and he liked to think he was better, “I’m just going to have a look, okay.” 

She nods, stopping him for a moment with a hand on his arm, “Promise me whatever you see down there you’re still going to want to have sex with me after this.” 

He leans in and stamps a kiss against her lips, “Nothing is ever going to stop me wanting to have sex with you, Em.” 

“You guys know I’m still out here, right?” Spencer asks, his voice breaking through the unlikely sanctuary they’d built in Dave’s living room, and they both look at the door sharply. 

“Reid.”

“Spencer.” 

They chastise simultaneously, their only answer silence, and then they look back at each other, and Emily nods, giving Aaron the go-ahead. He pushes her dress up to her hips and pushes her knees apart, blowing out a steady breath before he looks back up at her, hoping he’s been able to cover his own turbulent emotions to his already terrified wife. 

“I can see the head.” 

Her eyes go wide and she shakes her head, her trembling lips pressed together, “No it can’t be…” she drifts off, her head falling back against the couch cushions behind her and she screams, unable to keep it in any longer, “Fuck I think I need to push.” 

“Then you should push, sweetheart,” he says, “The baby is already on the way.” 

She swears that she feels her body take over, the immense pressure and pain forcing her to push even if she didn’t want to. She groans as she falls back, Spencer’s instructions from the other side of the door to slow down when the head comes out just about registering. 

“This sucks,” she says, her breath catching in her chest, her entire body on fire, “This sucks so fucking much.”

“You’re so close, Em,” Aaron says, his eyes fixed on the dark hair on their baby’s head, “So close.”

“That’s easy for you to say you asshole,” she says, outright calling him a name for the first time since this had all started, “You’re not the one giving birth in our friend's living room.” Instead of replying, Aaron takes her hand and places it on the baby’s head, watching as any anger or frustration melts away, her fingers shaking as she touches the baby’s hair, “Oh my God, that’s our baby’s head,” she says, looking up at him, her eyes shining, “That’s Pickle’s head.” 

Aaron nods, leaning in and pressing his forehead against hers, gladly passing her some of his strength, knowing he’d give her all of it if she asked. 

“You’re so close, Em,” he says again, the words actually encouraging this time, and he pulls away, taking his position back in between her legs, “Just one more push.”

She nods and sucks in a breath, bearing down with more strength than she thought she had as she lets out one final scream. She feels her baby slip into the world and Aaron’s waiting hands, and she gasps, the sensation followed by the longest moment of silence in her life. Then the baby cries, loud and squawking and totally furious to be born. Aaron clears the baby’s airways and he lets out a noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob as he looks up at his wife. 

“It’s a boy,” he says, looking back down at his son as he passes him over to Emily, her hands shaking as she takes the baby. 

“It’s a boy?” She asks in disbelief, her eyes fixed on her little boy, her son as she holds him to her, “We have a son,” she looks at Aaron, laughing through the tears that fall onto her cheeks, “Holy shit we have another little boy.”

“No cursing in front of him,” Aaron says, laying a towel over the still crying baby before he shifts to sit behind his wife, enjoying a moment with her and their newborn son before he has to worry about the next stage of all of this. 

“He’s literally two minutes old, honey,” she says resting on Aaron as he sits behind her, “He doesn’t even know where he is, let alone what a curse word is,” she stares at her little boy. He was bright red, his dark hair was glued down to his skin by god knows what, but he was beautiful, “He’s perfect.” 

Aaron kisses the side of her head, “Just like his Mommy,” he says, “I love you.”

She turns to look at him, her eyes shining with love and joy, “I love you too.”

There’s a soft knock on the door, drawing their attention away from each other, Dave’s voice breaking through the little bubble they’d created even though he remains on the other side of the door, “The ambulance is here, JJ is just showing them in now.” 

Aaron squeezes Emily closer, the way she tenses at the mention of other people, her eyes still fixed on the baby on her chest, and he runs his hand up and down her arm, “Thanks, Dave. Can you make sure-”

“Everyone is on the other side of the house with a strict instruction not to come over here until you’re gone.” 

Emily hums, almost talking to herself when she speaks, “I wonder what he had to bribe Pen with to agree to that.” 

“A case of my finest French wine, Bella,” he says, and they both know exactly what smile he has on his face even though they can’t see, “So it’s the couch, the towels and the wine that you owe me now.” 

She knows he’s joking, knows that he’d have given anything to help them through this, so all she does is lean in further to her husband's side as the door is pushed open and the EMTs walk in alone. 

“You can have anything you want, Dave,” she says, stroking her finger up and down her son’s soft cheek, “I have everything I need.” 

___

She’d never experienced peace at a hospital. 

It was always a place of trauma, of grief, but as she looked down at her son’s face as he slept against her, tucked in under her hospital gown, peace was the only word that seemed right. 

“How are you two doing?”

She smiles as she looks up at her husband, who was standing in the doorway having popped out in the hallway to make a couple of calls, the unrelenting joy on his face something she knew was reflected in her own. 

“We’re okay,” she says quietly as Aaron walks over, carefully joining her on the bed. She secures the baby against her as she shifts to allow her husband to sneak in behind her. She winces as she settles against him, offering him a smile as worry flashes across his face, “I’m okay, just very sore,” she scrunches her nose up as she tries to get comfortable, “Getting those stitches was not fun.” 

Once the EMTs had cut the chord and helped Emily deliver the placenta they’d brought them all to the hospital. JJ had agreed to take Jack home for the night, the little boy thankfully very agreeable despite his excitement at his sibling being born. Emily knew she’d be here for a couple of days, the quick labour and delivery meant the doctors wanted to keep an eye on her and the baby, and she was grateful for it - the residual fear that something was wrong even though her son had passed all of his tests with flying colours not quite leaving her alone. 

“Jack is already asleep,” Aaron says, “He and Henry are having a sleepover and the team is raising a glass to us all at midnight.” 

She hums contentedly, “As much as today was not what I wanted,” she says, tearing her eyes away from her son to look at Aaron, “I’m grateful for them,” she smiles softly, “And for the fact they respected our wishes.” 

“I would have barricaded the door if that’s what it took,” he says seriously and she kisses his jaw, pressing her love for him into his skin. The baby cries out and they both turn to look at him, Emily’s soft shushing and her lips against the top of his head enough to quieten him down, “We need a name for this little guy, I don’t think he’d thank us for calling him Pickle in about 15 years,” Aaron says, placing his hand on his son’s back, linking his fingers through Emily’s, “I think the boy name we had picked out works perfectly, don’t you?”

She studies her son’s face, desperate to log every little bit of it to her memory, well aware that these early days that felt long as they were happening would go far too quickly. She smiles and nods, trailing her knuckle softly down the baby’s cheek. 

“It’s perfect,” she says, shifting to kiss her son’s forehead, “Hi Hugo,” she says softly, tears she couldn’t explain if she wanted to gathering in her eyes, “Welcome to the world.” 

A cheer from the nurse's station, muffled by the closed door, draws their attention away from Hugo, and Aaron smiles as he checks his watch. 

“Happy New Year, sweetheart.” 

She smiles and leans in to kiss him, well aware this would be her favourite year yet, “Happy New Year, honey.” 

-x-

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