#so if anyone happens to know please chime in

[allthingssteddie]

Steve assists Eddie's band in loading their instruments into the van after a gig, but a sudden pain in his lower abdomen catches him off guard. Initially, he brushes it off as gas, but as the band celebrates with a late night McDonald's run, the pain returns with even more sharp.

Steve doesn’t want to ruin the night so he tries to just hold it in but as they sit in the van eating, Steve's discomfort grows, and Eddie notices his distress. "Steve, what's wrong?" Eddie asks, concern etched on his face.

Steve's face contorts in agony as he struggles to find a comfortable position. "I don't know, but it feels like...something's coming out of me," he gasps. Gareth chimes in from the backseat, "What, like the movie alien?" which earns him a slap on the back of the head from Jeff.

Steve's agonized moan fills the van, prompting worried glances from the group. Eddie's voice trembles as he clutches Steve's hand. "Baby, what’s happening?" Steve's desperate eyes lock onto Eddie's. "Eddie, I need to take my jeans off...NOW!"

Eddie's eyes widen in alarm. "Wait, why?!" Steve hastily removes his jeans, unsure what to expect. Gareth's panic sets in. "Holy shit, what do we do?" Jeff rushes out to find a payphone, leaving the group in a state of panic.

Steve's pain was unbearable now , and he knew he had to push. With his head on Eddie's shoulder, he cried out loud, while Eddie whispered, "It's okay, it's okay," his voice trembling with uncertainty.

"Eddie, alpha," Steve cried, desperation in his voice.

"What, sweetheart, what?" Eddie panicked.

"I need you to look under me," Steve begged.

"What?!" Eddie exclaimed.

"Please," Steve pleaded.

Eddie wasn't prepared for what he saw the baby's head was emerging, and Steve was tearing. He could see the baby's head, and the blood dripping down onto the seat underneath him.

"Holy shit!" Gareth screamed.

Acting on instinct, Eddie cupped the baby, and with one final push, the baby's shoulders popped out. As Steve felt another contraction, Eddie pulled the baby out.

The van fell silent, except for Steve's panting. The baby wasn't crying, and was small.

"What's happening, Eddie? Why isn't it crying?" Steve cried, exhausted.

"Come on, baby, come on," Eddie cooed, gently inserting his finger into the baby's mouth to clear out any fluid. Something he remembered seeing on tv next , he rubbed the baby's chest, stimulating them to take their first breath. After a small hiccup, a small but loud cry filled the air. Eddie exhaled a sigh of relief, and Gareth released the breath he'd been holding.

Eddie cradled the tiny baby in his arms, the umbilical cord still attached to Steve. Steve weakly removed his shirt and drew the baby to his bare chest, holding them close. Steve and Eddie locked eyes, both still in shock at what had just transpired.

Their faces reflected a mix of awe, fear, and joy, as they gazed at each other, then at their newborn baby.

Just as they were taking in the miracle of their newborn son, Jeff knocked on the window, out of breath. Startling them Seriously, Jeff?" Gareth said, rolling his eyes. "Ambulance is coming."

Before long, they arrived at the hospital, and Steve and Eddie couldn't take their eyes off their baby boy. They gazed at him in wonder, still trying to process the shock of becoming fathers.

Their son stared back at them with big brown eyes, a perfect blend of Steve and Eddie's features. Steve was convinced their son was a miniature version of Eddie, and he couldn't be more thrilled.

"So, we're dads," Steve said, beaming with pride.

"We're dads!" Eddie exclaimed loudly, earning a glare from a passing nurse.

Later, the doctor asked Steve and Eddie, "Had you two really no idea Steve was pregnant?" They exchanged a glance, still in shock, and shook their heads in unison. "No idea," they replied, still trying to wrap their minds around the unexpected surprise.

Does anyone remember that show I didn’t know I was pregnant? I was thinking about that the other day and I remember how crazy their stories were.

[why-bless-your-heart]

Lunacy and Letters (1901)

A considerable amount of testimony exists to indicate the rather astonishing fact that the British Museum Library, in addition to its multifarious services, discharges a great many of the functions of a private madhouse. Men and women in that vast palace of knowledge go quietly to and fro, ransack the wisdom of the ages and are waited on by the servants of the State, who in a less humane age would have been screaming in Bedlam upon a heap of straw. It is said that it is no uncommon thing for a family which is responsible for a harmless lunatic to send him to the British Museum Library that he may play with dynasties and philosophies as a sick child plays with soldiers. Whether or no this be true to the full extent, it is assuredly true that this colossal temple of hobbies has all the air of containing many tragedies, for, indeed, a hobby often means a tragedy.

There go the loves that wither

The old loves on wearier wings,

And all dead things draw thither

And all disastrous things.

In that library may be seen figures so weird and dehumanised that they might be born and die in the Library without seeing the light of the sun. They seem like a fabulous and subterranean people, the gnomes of the mine of learning. But it would be hasty and irrational to say that all this amounts to madness. The love of a bookworm for musty old folios may easily be more sane than the love of many poets for the sunshine and the sea. The inexplicable attachment of some old professor for a tattered old hat may be a far less vitally diseased sentiment than some light-minded society lady’s craving for a gown from Worth’s. It is too often forgotten that conventionalities may be morbid as well as unconventionalities. Of course there is no absolute definition of madness except the definition which we should each of us endorse that madness is the eccentric behaviour of somebody else. It is, indeed, an absurd exaggeration to say that we are all mad, but it is true that we are none of us perfectly sane, just as it is true that we are none of us perfectly healthy. If there were to appear in the world a perfectly sane man he would certainly be locked up. The terrible simplicity with which he would walk over our minor morbidities, our sulky vanities and malicious self-righteousness; the elephantine innocence with which he would ignore our fictions of civilization—these would make him a thing more desolating and inscrutable than a thunderbolt or a beast of prey. It may be that the great prophets who appeared to mankind as mad were in reality raving with an impotent sanity.

In a large number of cases, doubtless, these literary eccentrics, in pursuing their hobbies, are pursuing the sanest of all human impulses, the impulse that bids us put our trust in industry and a defined aim. There is probably many an old collector whose friends and relations say that he is mad on Elzevirs, when as a matter of fact it is the Elzevirs that keep him sane. Without them he would drift into soul- destroying idleness and hypochondria; but the drowsy regularity of his notes and calculations teaches something of the same lesson as the swing of the smith’s hammer or the plodding of the ploughman’s horses, the lesson of the ancient commonsense of things. But when full allowance has been made for that wholesome cheerfulness which often peculiarly attaches to laborious and useless employments, there does remain a problem of the sanity of scholarship. Books, like all other things which are the friends of man, are capable of becoming his enemies, are capable of rising in revolt, and slaying their creator. The spectacle of a man raving in brain-fever through the mysteries of a trumpery pamphlet of rag paper that he can carry in his pocket has the same ironic majesty as the sight of a man struck down by a railway engine. Man is supremely complimented even in death; in a sense he dies by his own hand. This diabolic quality in books does exist; madness lies in wait in quiet libraries, but the nature and essence of that madness can only be approximately defined.

One general description of madness, it seems to us, might be found in the statement that madness is a preference for the symbol over that which it represents. The most obvious example is the religious maniac, in whom the worship of Christianity involves the negation of all those ideas of integrity and mercy for which Christianity stands. But there are many other examples. Money, for example, is a symbol; it symbolises wine and horses and beautiful vesture and high houses, the great cities of the world and the quiet tent by the river. The miser is a madman, because he prefers money to all these things; because he prefers the symbol to the reality. But books are also a symbol; they symbolise man’s impression of existence, and it may at least be maintained that the man who has come to prefer books to life is a maniac after the same fashion as the miser. A book is assuredly a sacred object. In a book certainly the largest jewels are shut in the smallest casket. But that does not alter the fact that superstition begins when the casket is valued more than the jewels. This is the great sin of idolatry, against which religion has so constantly warned us.

In the morning of the world the idols were rude figures in the shapes of man and beast, but in the civilized centuries they still remain in shapes even lower than those of beast or man, in the shape of books and blue china and quart pots. It is written that the gods of the Christian are leather and porcelain and pewter. The essential of idolatry is the same. Idolatry exists wherever the thing which originally gave us happiness becomes at last more important than happiness itself. Drunkenness, for example, may be fairly described as an engrossing hobby. And drunkenness is, when really comprehended in its inward and psychological reality, a typical example of idolatry. Essential intemperance begins at the point where the one incidental form of pleasure, which comes from a certain article of consumption, becomes more important than all the vast universe of natural pleasures, which it finally destroys. Omar Khayyam, who is for some inexplicable reason often regarded as a jovial and encouraging poet, sums up this final and horrible effect of drink in one stanza of incomparable wit and power:

And much as wine has played the infidel,

And robb’d me of my robe of honour—Well,

I wonder often what the vintners buy

One half so precious as the stuff they sell.

The Persian was a poet of immense fancy and fertility, but the full force of his imagination could not summon from this multifarious universe anything to rival the attractions of a particular red substance that had undergone a chemical change. This is idolatry: the preference for the incidental good over the eternal good which it symbolises. It is the employment of one example of the everlasting goodness to confound the validity of a thousand other examples. It is the elementary mathematical and moral heresy that the part is greater than the whole. Now in this sense bibliomania is capable of becoming a kind of drunkenness. There is a class of men who do actually prefer books to everything with which books are concerned, to lovely places, to heroic actions, to experiment, to adventure, to religion. They read of godlike statues, and are not ashamed of their own frowsy and lazy ugliness; they study the records of open and magnanimous deeds, and are not ashamed of their own secretive and self-indulged lives. They have become citizens of an unreal world, and, like the Indian in his Paradise, pursue with shadowy hounds a shadowy deer. And that way lies madness.

In the limbo of the misers and the drunkards, which is the limbo of idolators, many great scholars may be found. Here, as in almost all ethical problems, the difficulty arises far less from the presence of some vicious tendency than from the absence of some essential virtues. The possibilities of mental derangement which exist in literature are due not so much to a love of books as to an indifference to life and sentiment and everything that books record. In an ideal state, gentlemen who were immersed in abstruse calculations and discoveries would be forced by Act of Parliament to talk for forty-five minutes to an ostler or a landlady, and to ride across Hampstead Heath on a donkey. They would be examined by the State, but not in Greek or old armour, which are their pleasures, and in which they may be trusted as safely as children at cross-touch. They would be examined in Cockney dialect, or in the colours of various omnibuses. They would be purged of all the tendencies which have sometimes brought lunacy out of learning; they would be taught to become men of the world, which is a step towards becoming men of the Universe.

[inconmess]

So... definitely spoilers under this cut cuz holy shit the episode went all ways fucked today! But...

First things first, loved the ruthlessness of the Spider Queen and the gods kinda opening a channel of communication as to why they are insisting so much about champions and the urgency (especially the Matron and SQ)

That was a whole lot of physical, mental and emotional damage thrown all the fuck around so I go character by character

Morrighan, known the Crown Keepers for the shortest time and yet, the way she goes to preserve Opal's memories and her hesitation to leave but still knowing that she needs to go and giving Opal a promise to save her memories

Fy'ra accepting the Wildmother's call, jumping in on the Spider meeting because she cannot lose another sister, no matter what and just also watches as Dorian, Dariax and Morrighan leave, probably not knowing what motivated them to.

Cyrus was just in the sidelines. He didn't have to die 😭😭😭😭

Opal. Poor Opal. She didn't really know what was really at stake and now she has a corrupted memory or two, lost her Original name, her childhood and TED! And important info about her mother too, all due to the lack of communication between the SQ and her regarding the stakes.

And my god, Dorian and Dariax! I don't even know who to start with because they both took damage in a different yet equal level here?

I mean, I guess I will start with Dorian cuz... well, he lost his fucking brother and the way he couldn't even approach him one last time due to Opal's suggestion to find Orym? Not even allowed to process what happened, grieve and one of the last fucking things he did was not to talk to Cyrus but hit him in an attempt to save him and hear his screams and howls of pain? Wondering how much you ever knew your brother and now the responsibility that was upon his shoulders fall onto you? The Spider Queen taunting at your helplessness and just the cold ass way of just turning her own against her in some sort of a revenge? (a badass move by the way, "Kill your Mother") Going on a revenge spree. being lost and without purpose only to reunite with Bells Hells, another group of fucked up people after you leave Dariax. WHO SPECIFICALLY WAS FOLLOWING YOU??? BECAUSE HE WAS ALSO LOST ON HIS OWN??

And Dariax man. He was just asked by Opal to find Orym and so he goes, not understanding why they weren't going with him, not really understanding what happened to Cyrus initially and later on it just... hits him when the compulsion wears off and the betrayal he doesn't focus on because he follows Dorian and is worried about Dorian only for Dorian to leave him with his fucking lute in a, technically, unknown area? Now that's like two betrayals to process unless Dorian makes a fucking attempt to meet back up with Dariax again real soon cuz I swear to god you are just putting the sweetest person who just wants to support everyone down the deep end real quick cuz his sole purpose was to support Opal and she doesn't want him and now he follows Dorian and he also leaves him and I DON'T WANT THIS MUCH EMOTIONAL BAGGAGE ON DARIAX! I LOVED THE HIMBO THAT HE IS! OBSERVER LEAD HIM BACK TO DORIAN AND MAKE HIM WHACK HIM OVER HIS HEAD WITH THE LUTE! KNOCK SOME SENSE INTO THE GENASI FOR ME! I want Dariax to meet Orym and the Hells and the meeting should be in the most unbelievable way and- (starts an idea for a fic)

(I mean, narratively I get it, Matt can't DM and play a PC character but really, leaving him cold shouldered like that? Come on man! I understand the motivation characterwise too but really??)

And don't get me started with the reunion. I am glad Dorian asked Keyleth for some support, man I really do. But the way the reunion was going on, I think they are really skipping over some of the serious stuff in an attempt to catch up (which, realistically is going to be a mess because it is a lot to catch up tbh) but the way some of the stuff which could've been talked a little bit more about but bottled up is like... a lot. And I want those conversations so bad. I want Dorian to sit down and tell Orym and Fearne about what exactly went down. I want the Hells to properly talk about Thull. I want them to lay everything out in the open. The Deals. The risks.

I said it once and I say it again. I want the fucking Bells Hells to play a game of What the Fuck is Up with That under a Zone of Truth and talk about every single fucking thing for a really long time and I need proper conversations. I really do. And I want them to stop avoiding stuff.

And my man Dorian. Get Dariax back. You can't give me a joking "bonus action, Double Ds kiss" and immediately abandon him in Zephrah. You cannot do it to my poor heart. Not after all the elder sibling feels I am going through. I am sorry but you cannot.

I am going to miss the Crown Keepers a lot man. I am going to miss them a lot. They were my intro to CR and it is so fucking emotional to see them disband like this in a heartbreaking manner.

Thank you @quidde for this lovely story you gave us with all the silliness and all the heartbreak 🥺🥺🥺

I think I am going to catch some sleep rn even tho it is the afternoon. After a conversation with my teacher which I totally forgot about shit.

[woundedheartwithin]

You know, I’m a little worried that rgg is just planning on writing Yagami out of the next game

Mild spoilers under the cut

Given how popular the series was in Japan (due in no small part to who exactly portrayed Yagami), I don’t see them just hanging the series up in the event that Kimura Takuya’s agency refuses to come to the table. He was the initial draw, of course, but the series earned its own fan base in the west by having arguably the best writing and gameplay out of any Yakuza/RGG game to date. As much as I hate saying this, Kimura is not needed for another installment to be a success, especially given how viciously some folks seem to hate Yagami just in general, and Kimura’s agency is not giving rgg any reasons to believe that he’s not expendable

But from a canon point of view, LJ being set in Ijincho with Sugiura and Tsukumo’s shiny new detective agency is scary, actually, if you think about the implications, and the Kaito Files kinda confirmed it for me too. Sugiura, one of the main characters of both games, is now in Yokohama. Higashi, another main character in both games, opened another branch of Charles in Ijincho, as well (per the Kaito Files). The crew at Genda Law Office and Mafuyu’s roles in LJ were negligible, aside from Saori (who is technically a player character, and so a main character, and who stated in LJ that she felt like she was being underestimated by both her client and her coworkers)

Kaito, yet another main character, has a brand new family, and there is no way Mikiko actually agreed to move into Kaito’s shitty Kamurocho apartment with all her money and whatever money she got from her dirtbag husband’s estate. That leaves an opening for Kaito to just move to Yokohama with his family. And Yokohama 99 only has one field detective and a pretty high profile win under their belt, so honestly I don’t think it’s all that much of a stretch to see Kaito start working there instead because they need the manpower, and Kamurocho is now too far away to reasonably commute. It’s also pretty reasonable to assume that Jun already goes to school in Yokohama (hell he and Mikiko probably live there) because of his father’s connections with the city (that reunion being held at the Blu Marino every year). I don’t think it was ever explicitly stated that Sadamoto was based in Yokohama, but the implication is there

Not to mention, if the series moved to Ijincho full time, Yagami has stated that he likes working and living in Kamurocho, and his only remaining father figure is still there. I don’t see him leaving, even for Kaito

Idk it’s kinda scary honestly, because Yagami is far and away my favorite character (for more than just his looks I promise), and I love the other characters with all my heart, but I do not want to see Yagami just left behind in Kamurocho while the gang up and moves to Ijincho. And with the whole Saori being engaged to Hoshino angle, I could totally see that souring and Saori bailing to Yokohama as well, especially since she’s expressed quite a bit of discontent at being overlooked and underestimated already. If her relationship with Hoshino goes belly up, I could see her stepping back from Genda’s office entirely and moving to get a fresh start

[pucksandpower]

Something to Lose

Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: when Lando starts driving like he has nothing left to lose after a stop-and-go penalty during the Qatar Grand Prix, you are left with no choice but to reveal that he does have something to lose … it’s currently growing inside you

Warnings: reckless driving and pregnancy

Based on this request

“Lando, calm down.”

Silence. The kind of silence that isn’t empty but buzzing with tension, the sound of static humming just underneath.

“Lando, you have to calm down.”

The voice over the radio is steady but edged with something close to panic. It’s Will, trying to sound composed and professional, but Lando doesn’t care. His knuckles are white against the steering wheel, the sweat pooling in the fabric of his gloves.

“I’m fine,” he snaps, voice tight.

“No, you’re not fine,” comes the clipped reply. “You’re driving recklessly. You’ve already been warned twice about track limits. If you don’t-”

“I know what I’m doing!”

He’s not shouting, not quite, but it’s close enough. The car ahead of him looms into view, and he narrows his eyes. He’s lost so much time, too much time. Thirty-five seconds feels like a lifetime in Formula 1, and every fiber of his being burns with the need to claw it back.

“Lando, please,” Will tries again. “This isn’t just about you. Think about the team. Think about the other drivers.”

Lando sets his jaw, foot pressing harder on the throttle as he moves into the DRS zone. He’s close enough now, gaining. He can feel the adrenaline surging, the singular focus that blocks out everything else.

Except-

“Lando, you’ve got to listen.”

This time, it’s Andrea chiming in. There’s an edge of frustration to his tone, like he knows Lando isn’t going to.

“I’m fine,” Lando says again, more clipped this time.

“You’re not.”

He doesn’t respond. The car ahead is his target, and everything else fades.

In the McLaren garage, it’s chaos. Will mutters something under his breath, Andrea runs a hand through his hair, and Zak looks close to knocking the pit wall over in frustration. The radio crackles again, another futile attempt to break through.

“He’s not listening,” someone says, their voice low but frantic.

And then-

“Get her.”

Heads snap around.

“Are you serious?”

“Do you have a better idea?”

The silence that follows speaks volumes.

A headset is shoved into your hand before you can ask any questions. The words come in a rush. "He’s not listening to us. He’s driving like … just can you talk to him? Please.”

You blink, stunned, your brain trying to process what’s happening.

“On the radio? But I’m not part of the team. You’re not allowed to-”

“We’ll take the fine. Just please. He’ll listen to you.”

You hesitate, the weight of the request settling on your shoulders. Your fingers tighten around the phone. Somewhere in the pit of your stomach, there’s a familiar twinge of anxiety.

“Fine,” you say finally. “Patch me through.”

The radio buzzes, and then you hear him.

“Lando,” you say, your voice soft but firm.

There’s a beat of silence before his response.

“What?”

Just that one word, sharp and irritated. But you can hear it beneath the surface — the crack in his armor, the flicker of something vulnerable.

“Hey,” you say gently. “It’s me.”

He doesn’t respond immediately, and you press on, your heart pounding in your chest.

“You’re scaring them,” you say. “The team. They don’t know what to do with you right now.”

“I’m fine,” he says again, the words rote, mechanical.

“No, you’re not,” you counter. “Lando, I know you. I know how you get when you feel like everything’s slipping away.”

His silence is louder than anything he could say.

“You’re trying to prove something,” you continue. “I get it. But you don’t have to prove anything to anyone.”

“You don’t understand,” he mutters, voice low and strained.

“Don’t I?” You shoot back. “I’ve seen you like this before. I know how hard it is to let go when everything feels wrong, but-”

“It’s not the same,” he interrupts. “You don’t know what it’s like out here.”

You take a deep breath, steadying yourself.

“You’re right. I don’t. But I do know what it’s like to care about someone who doesn’t know when to stop. And right now, that’s you.”

He doesn’t answer, but you can hear his breathing, heavy and uneven.

You take a leap.

“Lando,” you say softly, almost a whisper, “think of the baby.”

The silence is deafening.

“What?” His voice cracks on the word, incredulous.

You swallow hard, your grip on the phone tightening. You hadn’t planned to say it, hadn’t even meant to — but now that the words are out, there’s no taking them back.

“I’m pregnant,” you say, the words tumbling out in a rush. “I wasn’t going to tell you like this, but Lando, please. You have to stop.”

The radio is silent for a long, agonizing moment. Then-

“You’re joking.”

“I’m not,” you say quickly, your voice trembling. “I wouldn’t joke about this.”

Another beat of silence.

“Are you serious right now?” His tone is softer now, laced with disbelief.

“Yes,” you say firmly. “I’m serious. And I’m scared, Lando. I’m scared for you, for us, for the future. But right now, I need you to stop driving like you’ve got nothing to lose.”

There’s a pause, the longest yet, and you can almost hear the wheels turning in his mind.

“I didn’t mean to-” he starts, but his voice falters.

“I know,” you say, cutting him off gently. “I know you didn’t. But you’re not just racing for yourself anymore.”

He exhales shakily, and when he speaks again, his voice is quieter, almost defeated.

“Okay,” he says finally. “Okay, I’ll ease up.”

The tension in your chest loosens, just a fraction.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

The radio crackles, and the team’s voices flood back in, relieved and frantic. Lando doesn’t say much, just listens, his responses clipped but calmer.

In the garage, the atmosphere shifts. People exchange glances, half-shocked, half-relieved.

Back on track, Lando slows, just slightly. His movements are still precise, aggressive — but controlled.

And in the garage, you stand there, the phone still clutched in your hand, your heart racing.

“Is it true?” Someone asks quietly, their voice barely audible over the chaos.

You look down, swallowing hard.

“Yes,” you say softly. “It’s true.”

***

P10.

Not a podium, not even close to the result he wanted, but after the chaos of the race, it feels like a victory.

The team cheers faintly through the radio, their relief palpable. Lando barely hears it. His mind has been somewhere else since your voice cut through the static, since your words landed like a punch to the chest.

“I’ll meet you in the garage,” Will says over the radio, but Lando doesn’t respond. The car rolls to a stop in parc fermé, and he yanks off his steering wheel with more force than necessary.

The marshals wave him over toward the mandatory weight check. He doesn’t even glance at them.

“Lando!”

Their shouts barely register. He’s already pulling himself out of the car, helmet in hand, visor still down. His focus is singular, tunnel-visioned: you.

The rules? The procedures? None of that matters. Not now.

“Lando, you need to-” one of the officials tries again, but he brushes past them, moving with the kind of intensity that no one dares challenge.

His gloves hit the ground first, discarded in haste, then his balaclava. The crowd around him blurs into nothing — team personnel, photographers, journalists — none of them exist in his world right now.

He reaches the McLaren garage in record time, his breaths coming fast and shallow. The second he sees you, standing off to the side with your arms wrapped around yourself, he freezes.

You don’t notice him at first, your gaze fixed on the ground, your foot nervously tapping. Then someone points, murmuring his name, and your head snaps up.

The moment your eyes meet, it’s like the rest of the world falls away.

“Lando,” you whisper, but before you can say anything else, he’s crossing the distance between you in long, purposeful strides.

“Is it true?” He demands, voice low but urgent.

You blink, caught off guard by the intensity of his tone.

“Is it true?” He asks again, softer this time, his eyes searching yours.

You nod, your throat tightening. “Yes.”

His breath hitches. For a moment, he just stares at you, his expression unreadable. Then, without warning, he pulls you into his arms, holding you like he’s afraid you might disappear.

“You’re serious,” he murmurs, his voice muffled against your hair.

You nod again, your cheek pressed against his chest. “I am.”

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his hands still gripping your arms. His eyes are wide, almost disbelieving, but there’s something else there too — something softer.

“I don’t even know what to say,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

“You don’t have to say anything right now,” you reply. “I just … I didn’t mean to tell you like that, but you weren’t listening, and I was scared, and-”

“I’m sorry,” he interrupts, his voice breaking. “I’m so sorry. For scaring you, for being reckless, for everything.”

You shake your head, tears welling up. “You don’t have to apologize. I just — I needed you to stop. I needed you to come back to me.”

“I’m here,” he says quickly, his grip on you tightening. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

The moment stretches, the noise of the paddock fading into a distant hum.

“I didn’t mean to put you in that position,” he says after a beat. “I should’ve been listening to the team, to you-”

“Stop,” you say softly, placing a hand on his chest. “We’ll talk about it later. Right now, I just need to know you’re okay.”

His lips press into a thin line, and he nods. “I’m okay. I promise.”

“Good,” you whisper, your voice trembling.

He leans his forehead against yours, his eyes fluttering shut. “I don’t know how I got so lucky,” he says, his voice thick with emotion.

“Neither do I,” you tease, trying to lighten the mood.

A laugh escapes him, shaky but real, and it’s like a weight lifts from both of you.

“Lando!” Someone calls from behind him. It’s Will, looking equal parts exasperated and relieved. “You skipped the weight check. You’re going to get a penalty … again.”

Lando doesn’t even glance back. “I don’t care.”

“Lando-”

“I don’t care,” he repeats, more firmly this time. His focus stays on you, his hands still resting on your arms.

“We should go,” you say softly.

“Not yet,” he replies, his eyes locked on yours.

The circus can wait. For now, all that matters is you.

[finelinevogue]

bigger than all of them

summary - you and the girls have an extremely spicy wine evening [ 18+ content / mature ]

word count - >1k

pairing - azriel x mate!reader

You were 3 bottles of wine deep and had no filter.

Mor had convinced you and the girls to have a wine night in at the House of Wind. She had raided Rhys’ wine store room and taken some of his most potent stuff, hence why you were all so inebriated.

The night had started of sweet and friendly, but at some point it had taken a dark and sexual turn which is why you were all now divulging in each other’s sex lives.

“Well I hope you get treated right in the bedroom, Emerie.” Nesta smirked.

Emerie and Mor had been together for over three years now and they were still very much in their honeymoon phase. You doubted they would ever leave it.

“She does.” Mor answered, looking at her love from across the room with stars in her eyes, “And not just the bedroom.”

Emerie blushed, shaking her head as if she couldn’t believe this conversation was really happening.

“Are you a giver or receiver?” Nesta asked Emerie, wanting more details.

“Can I say both?” She replied.

“I would’ve thought Mor would’ve been the giver.” Feyre chimed in, nudging her shoulder into Mor’s since they were sat on the sofa next to each other.

“Sometimes it’s nice to switch.” Mor shrugged. “Top up anyone?”

Mor offered the bottle to everyone, holding it up whilst others held up their glasses to fill. Nesta’s was barely sipped from yet and she was demanding a refill. Yours was almost empty but you didn’t raise your glass just yet.

“Someone fill up Y/Ns glass. We need her tipsier before we question her about Az.” Mor demanded.

You blushed as you thought about being in the spotlight for being questioned about your sex life - with Azriel! Az was practically a brother to Mor and part of Nesta and Feyre’s immediate family, so it felt forbidden to talk about him like that with them. Yet, you did want to divulge a little.

“I need to be drunker to hear about Azriel’s sex life.” Nesta laughed, holding her glass out for Mor to fill.

“Where is he tonight?” Gwyn asked.

“Who? Az?” You asked.

“Mhm.”

“At home, I think.” You replied.

“Oh yes! You just moved houses didn’t you. How did that go?” Elain asked.

“It was good. We’re still decorating but we’re taking our time.” You answered, crossing your legs underneath as you got comfortable. The blanket had fallen slightly off your legs so you pulled it back up onto your lap.

“What colour are you painting the walls?”

“I think–.”

“I’m sorry. I did not invite you all over to hear what tone of beige Y/N and Azriel are painting their house. I want to know something more interesting. Like.. Have you defiled the house yet?” Mor asked.

All eyes switched to you intensely, like you were about to tell the most important story of all existence.

You took a nervous sip of wine, readying yourself for the beginning of the interrogation.

“Yes.” You said simply.

“And?” Feyre asked, eyes wide waiting for more.

“And what?” You pretended to be clueless.

“Oh please… We want to know what room. When? How long? What’s he like? Is the best you’ve ever had?” Nesta pried.

You bit your lip as you readied yourself to answer the questions. Hopefully Az wouldn’t care that you were going to divulge so many details with your friends.

“On the first night in our new house we… you know—.”

“Fucked?” Mor interjected.

“Yeah, fucked, for.. well I remember we started before dinner and then I don’t really ever remember going to bed… so, all night?”

Everyone squealed.

Feyre kicked her legs as she screamed in excitement and Gwyn almost spilt her wine on the floor from how elated she was.

You and Azriel were a very private couple, so hearing details like these were very rare and few - which is why it was all the more monumental when people did hear the details. Whether the details were soft or sexy were completely dependent on whether you’d been fed wine or not - Mor knew what she doing.

“Is he… big?” Gwyn asked shyly, still getting comfortable with talking about stuff like this.

“Well I have nothing to compare it to.” You furrowed your brows.

Nesta held up her hands in front of her, palms facing inwards to each other, drawing them a little closer together but still far enough part to keep a good distance between them.

“This is Cassian.” She said.

Feyre copied Nesta’s actions but created a gap that was a little smaller but by only a fraction.

“Rhys.”

Elain held hers up then, the smallest of all the gaps but still a big gap nonetheless, “Lucien.”

You bit your lip as you tried to suppress the giggle you wanted to let out. You tilted your chin to your chest as you answered, refusing to meet anyones eye as you did, “Bigger than all of them.”

“I knew it!” Mor shouted, raising her arms to the sky in triumph with herself.

“Well done, love, you correctly guessed the size of your brothers dick.” Emerie teased her.

“Gods, he must be good then Y/N/N?” Gwyn asked.

“Mhm.” You nodded, taking a sip of your wine.

“Did it get better with the bond?” Elain asked you.

“Oh yeah, definitely. You agree Mor?”

“Definitely.” Mor looked lovingly at Emerie, her mate, as she answered. Emerie nodded in agreement with Mor.

Feyre pouted as she watched their interaction, probably missing her own mate. Rhys and Feyre had the kind of bond where they couldn’t go half a day without being with each other. It was sweet.

“I think also, like, Az has learnt what I do and don’t like which is why it feels better.” You said.

“Oh yeah? What’s the best thing he’s learnt to do?” Nesta asked devilishly.

You pursed your lips and squinted as you thought about which moment to answer with, the wine having given you enough liquid courage to talk more about this kind of stuff.

Damn you Mor.

“He does this thing with his shadows…”

The girls squealed again and your toes curled just thinking about Azriel.

“He… sometimes ties me with them and uses the spare tendrils to tease me.” You blushed.

“Oh!”

“Y/N!!!”

“Yes!”

“Good for you!”

The girls seemed more excited by this than you. They did have a point. It was a pretty intense and exciting thing, to have a mate that was so open and interested in loving you in different ways.

It made your sex life interesting and fresh.

“I wish Cassian had shadows now, dammit.” Nesta rolled her eyes.

“He must treat you good, Y/N.” Feyre said.

“He does. Really good.”

“I knew this wine night was a good idea!” Mor laughed and so did the rest of you.

Maybe she had a point. It was nice to be comfortable enough to talk about these kind of things with some of the best people in your life. Not to mention it made you even more excited to get home to Azriel later on and defile another room with him.

[sunfairiess]

𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐢 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝, 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 | 𝐣𝐣 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤

pairing: jj maybank x fem!reader

tropes: 3rd person narration | soft boy jj | best friends to lovers | comfort | fluff

synopsis: reader’s battling against anxiety, and during one of her anxiety attacks jj’s there to help her.

warnings: heavy depiction of anxiety, anxiety attack.

wc: 2.1k

writing this as someone who suffers from anxiety and deals with it on her own, was really emotional; if you find yourself in this position too, please don’t be afraid to ask for help. mental health matters <3

song rec: breathin - ariana grande ♡

everyone fights their own monsters, some are physically visible, others are perceived. some people have to fight against their families, some against their friends. but one of the biggest and worst challenges, was to fight against your own head.

everyone is tormented by their own monsters. hers is called anxiety, the beast who had ruined her life.

at school, her grades started to drop because she was just so tired all the time she couldn’t even bring herself to open the textbook; half of the foods she used to love were cut out of her daily routine because she would get constant heartburn and stomach problems to the point where she wasn’t able to consume a full meal for days.

when it came to sleeping, she couldn’t fall asleep because her mind was always racing with awful thoughts. what if i don’t wake up tomorrow? do my friends hate me because i didn’t go out with them today? is my heart supposed to beat so fast? my back is hurting, is this a health condition? am i going to be alone forever? usually she would go on for hours, reaching three or four in the morning, until she either cried herself to sleep or she almost passed out because of how tired she was.

going out of the house became hard. she became afraid of taking public transportation because what if someone tried to rob her or kidnap her. she couldn’t take long walks anymore because what if something happens and i’m alone. she even had to stop going to parties because she couldn’t stand big and loud crowds of people anymore.

her mental pain became physical: constantly having back problems, her chest and throat always felt too tight to breathe, her body tingling out of nowhere all the time.

it would’ve been a lie to say all of this didn’t reflected onto her relationship with others; she never told anyone about her own problems, not that they could help anyway. so when she started to hang out less with her friends, she always had to lie. i’m grounded, i can’t go out. sorry, i have too much homework to do. i have the flu, i can’t come. my dad needs my help, i’ll come next time. eventually though, she would run out of excuses, and that’s how she ended up for the first time in a month at the château, surrounded by her best friends.

“girl, we haven’t see you in forever, i almost forgot your face.” kiara joked, nudging her a bit with her elbow.

“i know, i’m so sorry guys. past month has been crazy.” which wasn’t a lie per se, she had spent the last weeks having constant anxiety and panic attacks. in the morning, in the afternoon, at night. and every single time she felt like she was about to die, the impending fear of doom creeping inside her. it really started to become unbearable, to the point where she didn’t even notice how many days would go by.

“well you’re here now, that’s what matters.” pope chimed in, giving her a smile. somehow that made her feel a little bit more lighter, knowing that her friends didn’t actually hated her. anxiety made her overthink every little detail of her life.

even though she tried to appear relaxed the whole night, she still felt like she was being chocked by an imaginary hand, pressing harder every time she breathed. she was grateful that none of her friends noticed the stiffness in her body, it would’ve been to hard to explain everything.

at least she thought no one noticed. jj noticed, he always did. he would observe every little detail about her. and from the moment she stepped into the château he hadn’t been able to keep his gaze off of her, not even for a second. he missed her. he hadn’t seen her in weeks and he had become restless. day and night he would think about her, what she was doing, if she missed him, if she too dreamed about him like he did about her. that’s how it felt being in love with your best friend.

jj knew something was up with her. she was always full of joy and energy, but bow it seemed like she had lost her spark. he knew there was something wrong, especially when he saw her fidgeting with her rings, gazing anxiously around her. he knew something was wrong when she got up, excusing herself from the conversation, and almost running to the bathroom.

following her wasn’t probably too good of an idea, but jj was impulsive, so he did it anyway. amen to that, he would’ve dealt with the consequences later, like his confused friends asking him what the heck was going on.

as he entered the bathroom, she was sat on the toilet. her face so pale you would think she was about to pass out.

he sees her as she stares into the wall, her eyes fixed in front of her, full of fear. he notices as she bring her right hand to her throat, sliding slowly down her chest and pressing hard. he hears her breathing going faster and heavier, like she couldn’t catch a full breath. her hands shaking as she tries to ground herself and not slip into the arms of her anxiety.

jj had no idea of what an anxiety attack looked like, he had been fortunate enough to never had one, but he always thought they had to feel awful for whoever got them. but seeing her, his sweet little sunshine, shaking all over the place and being surrounded by a cloud of darkness around her, made his heart break into a thousand millions pieces. he wanted to help her, but he didn’t know how to do it in the right way. he just wanted to do something, and so he did.

“sunshine, hey. baby, look at me. c’mon lemme see your pretty eyes.” he kneeled in front of her, placing both of his hands on her knees and gently rubbing his thumbs against them.

everything was spinning around her, thoughts racing with all the emotions she bottled up and all the fears she always had. she couldn’t stop them, it felt like she was going to be swallowed up by a black vortex. but then she heard his voice, it was like hearing an angel talking. her gaze slowly shifted from the white wall to his eyes, his gorgeous blue eyes, usually shining like stars when they looked at her, but now they were the depiction of concern. she felt a sharp feeling of guiltiness running through her your veins, because the last thing she wanted was to make him sad.

“that’s it, baby. you are so pretty, my pretty girl.” he gave her a soft smile, slowly moving his hands from her knees to her thighs. he wanted to pull her close and hug her, but one time— and thank god for him and the one time jj actually listened to what he said— pope told him that when people had anxiety or panic attacks, most of the time they didn’t wanted to be touched. so, instead of being the usual impulsive jj he was with everyone, he took baby steps with her, not wanting to scare her or make her even more anxious.

her breath was slowly calming down, but the aching in your chest and the lump in her throat were still there, still feeling like she was going to suffocate any moment now, but jj pulled her out of her thoughts again.

“alright pretty girl, i need you to do something for me, ‘kay? i need you to take deep breaths with me, i know it’s hard but i’m here. you’re safe, i won’t let anything happen to you. breathe with me, baby.” his voice was so sweet and gentle, she actually thought she was going to cry because of how soft he was speaking to her and how he was trying to handle the situation. she nodded slightly, following his example as he took one deep breath and then exhaled. one deep breath and exhaled. inhale and exhale. and they went on, and on, until the tension she felt before started to leave her body, making her shoulders and back relax and her hands stop shaking.

jj didn’t say anything this time, he just looked as she regained consciousness of her surroundings. even though the attack was gone, it usually took hours before she could actually calm down completely. it was hard and she always handled them alone, but this time having him with her felt like a blessing from heaven.

feeling like she had just been pulled out of a dark hole, she launched herself into his arms, wrapping hers around his neck. he let out a sigh as soon as he felt her flesh touch his own, his arms reaching for her hips and his face buried deep into the crook of her neck. they stayed like this for a almost twenty minutes. he only pulled her in tighter, not wanting to let go of her because he knew as long as she was into his arms, she was safe.

30 minutes later they were laying next to each other in the hammock, her head resting on his chest, the sound of his heart beating calming her, like a lullaby. his hands were both placed on her back, rubbing small circles against the thin fabric of her shirt.

jj really didn’t want to break the peacefulness that surrounded them, but he had to ask her why she never told him anything. he felt like he was failing at being her best friend. “why did you never tell me?” his voice was low, sounding almost like a whisper.

“i- i don’t know. i didn’t want to bother anyone, didn’t want to be a burden.” jj stopped moving his hands on her back, instantly lifting his head to look at her.

“okay, know that i’m not mad, but, firstly, i’m not anyone. i’m your best friend, you would never be a burden to me.” his hands moved to her cheeks, lifting her face. “i’ve been through hell and back these past weeks. not seeing you, not talking to you for more than 5 minutes on the phone, not touching you. it nearly killed me, y/n. i was always on the edge of a breakdown, constantly snapping at everyone because i didn’t know how you were doing. were you safe? were you alright? not knowing made me go insane.”

he stopped for a moment to catch his breath. he was pouring his heart out, which he never do, but he just felt like he had to do it now. “and i’m not saying this to make you feel guilty, that’s the last thing i want. i just wish for you to know how much you mean to me. you’re the most important person in my life, you’re my best friend, my ride or die, my partner in crime. you- you’re my first love, and hopefully you’ll be my last one too.”

her eyes went wide at his words, and honestly she thought she heard him wrong. “jj, what- what are you saying?”

“i know the night wasn’t perfect, but please just lemme say this now because i don’t know when i’ll get the same courage again. i love you, y/n. i love everything about you. i love that weird sound you make when you laugh too much, i love how your eyes shine when you’re talking about things you like, i love how after surfing your hair become all curly. hell, i love even the things you do that should piss me off, like when you throw away my joint because i’ve been smoking too much or when you scream at me because i got in a fight with some kooks again. i love you so much it physically hurts.”

her eyes were watery now, tears threatening to coming out in flows. she didn’t know what to say. because seriously, what do you say to someone who sees you as the most incredible human being, when you can’t even love a quarter of yourself?

you say nothing. but you can do something.

that’s why, in the quietness of the night, under the stars and while she was feeling at peace for the first time in weeks, she closed her eyes and pressed her lips against it.

she wasn’t magically healed, she still had things to deal with. but now, she wasn’t on her own anymore.

[amirasainz]

Hi! I love your blog!! Can I request a female driver x f1 grid, where she gets her first win and all the drivers are so happy for her as she’s the paddock princess, maybe when she’s doing her interviews many drivers come over to her and congratulate her and they talk highly of her in their interviews too? Thank u, keep up the amazing work!!💗

Ohh, that is such a sweet idea. This one made my heart melt.🫠❤️

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-xoxo

The first victory

The sun hung low over the track, painting the sky in hues of gold and orange as the final lap of the race came to a thrilling conclusion. The Aston Martin car, gleaming in its iconic green, roared down the straightaway with unmatched speed. All eyes were on Y/N, the team's rising star and the paddock's beloved princess. As she crossed the finish line, the world erupted with cheers.

"Y/N wins her first race!" the commentator's voice boomed over the loudspeakers. "What a sensational performance! Y/N takes her maiden victory, and it's Aston Martin on top!"

Inside her cockpit, Y/N could hardly believe it. She was overwhelmed with a rush of adrenaline, relief, and sheer joy. Her radio buzzed with the jubilant voice of her race engineer, Michaela.

"Y/N, you did it! You won! That was incredible! You are a race winner!"

Y/N couldn't contain her emotions. "Oh my god, we did it! We actually did it! Thank you so much, team! The car was perfect today. I can't believe this!" Her voice broke with happy tears as she crossed the finish line.

As she pulled into parc fermé, she could already see the sea of green uniforms waiting for her. The Aston Martin crew, usually composed and professional, was now a mass of cheering, fist-pumping celebration. She parked her car and clambered out, pulling off her helmet to reveal her beaming face. The noise was deafening; her team surrounded her, lifting her onto their shoulders as if she were royalty.

"Y/N! Y/N!" they chanted, their pride and admiration radiating.

Michaela, her race engineer, hugged her tightly. "You were flawless out there. Absolutely flawless."

Y/N, still catching her breath, grinned. "I couldn’t have done it without you guys. This one is for all of us!"

Before she could process what was happening, the other drivers began streaming in, each wanting to congratulate her on this monumental achievement. Lewis was the first to arrive, jogging over and giving her a massive hug.

"Well done, princess!" Lewis grinned, using the nickname the entire paddock had affectionately given her. "That was some of the best driving I’ve ever seen. You deserved this more than anyone."

Y/N laughed, playfully punching him on the shoulder. "Thank you, Lewis. That means a lot coming from you."

Max, who finished in third, made his way over next, pulling Y/N into a hug. "That was incredible, kid! I was pushing so hard to catch you, but you were just too fast. That last stint? Perfect."

Y/N’s smile widened. "Max, you kept me on my toes the whole race. I kept looking in my mirrors and thinking, ‘Please, not today!’" They both laughed, a shared camaraderie between rivals.

Charles joined the growing circle, clapping his hands before enveloping Y/N in a warm embrace. "You did it! You showed everyone today what you’re made of. I’m so proud of you, chéri."

Pierre Gasly chimed in, giving her a quick side hug. "You’re amazing, Y/N. It’s been a long time coming, and today was your day. You’re unstoppable."

Y/N was overwhelmed by the affection and admiration pouring in from all sides. Every driver in the paddock had a soft spot for her, and today, they all showed it without reservation.

Her interviews began shortly after, and as she spoke, drivers kept wandering over, interrupting to offer their congratulations. Daniel, always the joker, nudged her as he walked by, wearing a wide grin. "You know, if you keep driving like that, I’m going to have to start calling you Queen Y/N."

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. "Oh, stop it, Danny. But thank you. That means a lot."

As she continued with her media duties, the praise didn’t stop. George in his own interview, couldn't help but beam when asked about her performance. "Y/N is not just a phenomenal driver; she’s an incredible person. She works so hard, and seeing her finally get that win... I think we’re all just so happy for her. She’s truly the paddock princess."

Checo added in his segment, "She’s shown time and time again that she’s got what it takes. To see her standing on the top step today, it’s special. She’s the pride of the paddock."

Especially Fernando, one of the most experienced drivers on the grid, was full of admiration. "She’s a star. I’ve said it from the beginning. She’s got the talent, the dedication, and today, she put it all together perfectly. This is just the start for her."

When it was finally Y/N’s turn to address the cameras, she tried to keep her composure, but the emotions were too overwhelming. "I just want to thank my team, my family, and every single person who’s supported me. It’s been a tough journey, but today… today made it all worth it."

As she spoke, Carlos and Lando popped into her interview, both grinning ear to ear.

Lando, ever the playful one, said, "Y/N, you’ve got to teach us how to drive like that. Seriously, we’re all just trying to catch up to you now."

Carlos nodded in agreement. "Yeah, we’re going to need some lessons. You’re the real deal, hermosa."

She laughed, shaking her head. "Stop it, you guys! But honestly, thank you. You all mean the world to me."

The drivers couldn’t hide their affection. They each gave her one last hug, congratulating her again before letting her continue. Even in their own interviews, her name was on everyone’s lips.

Lewis, when asked about Y/N’s victory, said, "She’s a trailblazer. There’s no other way to put it. The way she carries herself, her determination—she’s an inspiration, not just to women in motorsport but to all of us. She’s the paddock princess, and today, she proved why."

Max added, "She’s one of the most dedicated drivers out here. We all see how hard she works, and to see her win... it just feels right. We’re all proud of her."

The day was a celebration, not just for Aston Martin, but for the entire paddock. Y/N had earned every bit of praise, every hug, and every kind word. As the cameras clicked and the champagne flowed, she stood on the podium, looking out at the cheering crowd, her fellow drivers waving at her from below.

For once, the paddock princess had her crown. And everyone—drivers, teams, and fans alike—couldn't have been happier for her.

[emmyrosee]

*hoping this is the inbox lol

I’d like to request something for Bakugo, if you haven’t done something similar already!

the scenario could be something like, the reader is on her way home at nighttime to their + Bakugo’s shared apartment and she starts to feel like someone (or a villain) is following her, so she starts trying to subtly contact him (before the villain knows she’s onto them) and eventually needs to start calling/running because the follower/villain is directly starting to attack.

Bakugo could probably be waiting for the reader to get back home and wondering why they’re taking so long, or also on his way back from work as he gets the messages. Reader may/may not get hurt or taken, lol.

but yeah overall, I am in my feels for dramatic and protective Bakugo 🤧 sorry if it sounds too specific, I’m not holding ya to that at all, just sharing the overall idea and would love to see your take!

I hope you have a great day/evening!!

tw // insinuated attacks with NO intense details, angst, dangerous situations, no comfort.

———-

SENT please, for the love of all that is holy, answer me

katsuki im so scared rn Please

im sorry about earlier

But now is not the time to be petty

Katsuki please

Please

whatever happens I love you

I love you so much

you were the greatest thing that ever happened to me.

You’d gotten into a fight this morning.

It was over something minuscule, about throwing away the empty cartons of milk, but apparently it was more than enough to upset Katsuki to the point of silencing your notifications. It had been building up for weeks, little jabs here and there until of course, this morning.

But now’s not a good time for him to not take the high road.

Not when there’s someone only twenty paces behind you, walking step for step with you. Fear grips your heart as you try to muster the courage to face them, so you keep your head down and spam Katsuki with as many messages as your fingers can.

Every once in a while, they clear their throat, just to remind you that they’re there, they’re right behind you and dare you to say or do anything to make them pounce. You don't want to risk it, not when there's no one around to help you. No witnesses, no cameras you know of, nothing to keep you any semblance of safe, only you and your mental gymnastics of debating on confronting the culprit head on, or continue this predator and prey game. You could duck in this little alcove, the alleyway adjacent to you, in an attempt to get away.

You clear your throat. You spin on your heel.

“Is there a problem?”

You choose to face the situation, heart beating faster than an engine, and hands clenched into fists. You wait for your phone to do something, vibrate, chime, ring, anything. But nothing happens.

Katsuki isn’t coming.

The terror looks at you and shrugs, “no, no problem. Why?”

“Because you are directly behind me, breathing down my neck.”

“I was trying to go around you,” they say simply.

You furrow your brows and clench your fists, “then fucking walk around me. Go.” You step to the side and extend your arm out, gesturing them to keep walking. “Go. Go around.”

They click their tongue and shake their head, taking strides to get past you, with their hands jammed into their pockets. You watch with frightened eyes as they approach, ready to fight back when need be.

They pause right in front of you. Your heart leaps in your chest.

“Ain’t anyone ever taught you beware of alleys?”

The world slows down as you watch a massive hand dart up to your face, grabbing your maw and forcing you in the alley, keeping you from screaming. They jam you deeper inside, and your vision blurs with tears of fear as the streetlights grow smaller the farther they move you into the alley.

Your phone clatters to the ground as your adrenaline kicks up, and bile rises in your throat.

This is it, isn’t it?

bk 🩵 the fuck?

What’re you on about?

Why’re you scared?

Im with deku, my phone was off

What the fuck

No, you’re going to answer me

Right now.

You think I’m playing?

Where are you

Babe, please

You’re scaring me

I love you. I’m sorry I yelled

But you need to answer me

You’re okay you’re fine we’re fine

We’re on our way I got your location

Stay put. Don’t you fucking move

[corpsedogs]

jason todd x f!reader (req)

✿ just give it a few days — jason misses you but unfortunately you need to study

Tim whispered, “What’s the matter with him?” on the other side of the batcave was Jason, sitting on the chair, arms resting on his knees, face brooding.

Duke whispers in his ear, “It’s about his girl.” he said softly. Tim mouthed an ‘ahh’ and slowly nodded. Jason had been moping since the start of the night, his siblings didn’t want to ask him directly what’s happening but they definitely knew the source.

You were busy preparing for your entrance exam, that meant no distractions… including your boyfriend. You needed this, you’d figure he’d understand so you pretty much ghosted him for a week or two.

At first, Jason shrugged it off thinking you’d eventually come by. But a week has passed by, no text, no call, no voicemail. Slowly, he has gotten more and more paranoid.

The first three days was just him patiently waiting for you to tell him that you could come into the apartment. At the start of the fifth day, he started to text you which he normally doesn’t do first. At the start of the eight day, he was worried sick. What on earth is going on in that apartment? And then on the twelfth day, he just started brooding.

Jason looked up from his brooding and noticed his siblings' stares melted onto his skull, he frowned and raised his voice a tad bit just to get their attention, “Why are you all looking at me?”

Here it comes.

Dick clears his throat and walks over to Jason, “We just noticed that you’ve been upset lately.” he said as he leaned over the back of Jason’s chair, “What’s wrong?”

Everyone wanted to ask the question for a while. But knowing they were asking Jason, they chickened out. Jason crossed his arms and sighed, leaning back on the chair. “You probably already know what’s wrong.” Tim raised his brow, “Have you texted her?” Jason shook his head, “She barely responds.” he answers.

“Then just keep bothering her.” Tim continues. Stephanie crossed her arms, glaring sideways at Tim “Have you met a woman? If she wants some alone time, then let her be.” Dick placed a hand on Jason’s shoulder. “Do you know why she’s ignoring you?” Jason nodded, “Yeah. She’s studying for an entrance exam.”

He then added, “But she’s been studying non-stop, she rarely texts and won’t answer my calls.”

Dick didn’t know how to answer that.

Barbara chimes in, deciding to help. “Entrance exams are hard to ace.” She explains, “This could be very important to her. Entrance exams aren’t that simple no matter how much you study.”

Honestly, all Jason wanted is everyone to pressure him to bother you instead of reassuring him that you needed this. Jason’s jaw tightens, “So what? I just disappear and wait for her to approach me?” he asked, his voice getting irradiated.

Everyone stayed silent then spoke in unison, “Yeah.” Jason sighs as he rubs his forehead.

“I hate you all.”

“What are we supposed to say?” Tim asked. Please ask me to break down her door. Jason grumbled to himself as he stood up from his chair, “You know what, forget it.” he grumbled. “I’m getting out of here.” and without letting anyone have any final say, he left the batcave. Dick snorts, “He’s like a soggy dog.”

“Or a giant baby.” Tim added, “I heard that!” Jason yelled from the top of the stairs.

Jason spent about an hour circling around Gotham on his bike before deciding to climb in your fire escape. He saw you, you were hunched back with thousands of notes scattered everywhere. A bright light was casted across your face and there was a laptop opened to your left playing what looks like a lecture.

He was just there at your window, his large towering figure covering half the view causing a shadow to cast in your room. You squint your eyes as you saw an ominous shadow behind your desk, you then looked behind you and practically jumped at your seat.

What the fuck.

Jason waved a little at you through the glass, he then pointed at the window and motioned for you to open it. You opened the window and asked, "What are you doing here?"

Jason takes a seat on the window sill and crosses his legs “Can’t I visit my girlfriend to see what she’s up to?” he asked.

You looked at your messy study table and back at him not buying it. He sighs "I’m just checking on you. What’s so wrong with that?" he claims. "I was starting to think you really didn't want to see me"

You sighed, “You know it’s not that.” You said, “Exams are just around the corner and I really need to get in.”

“So you ghosted me.” Jason raised a brow at you “A total of fourteen days, I’m pretty sure you could’ve sent me at least one text.” He said. You merely scoffed, you don’t have time for an argument right now. “Look, it’s just a few days.”

”So you prioritize your entrance exams over your own boyfriend?” he argued “I was starting to think you were dead or got kidnapped or something.”

“Can we not talk about this now?” You said with a groan, “I just really need to focus, and I don’t want to be distracted.”

Jason narrowed his eyes at you, “Whatever, I got some places to be.” he grunts as he turns back to the window.

You stood still at your place as you watched him go. You groaned as you buried your face in your hands. Has your studying really gotten to the point that you’ve been hurting him? You went back to your notes and slowly, you came to realize what you did was probably really awful to him. He cared about you more than himself, but instead of giving him a hello you buried your nose in pre-recorded lectures and books.

You regretted ignoring him, but it was too late, he had already left. You massaged your forehead as you turned off your laptop and headed to your bed.

Jason didn’t text you for the next few days since then.

He went back to his daily routine without you, wake up, eat, work out, eat patrol and sleep on his own bed. He avoided talking to anyone in that period of time, Dick specifically is so pained to see his brother mope like this, but he can’t really do anything but give him a pat on the shoulder.

Two days passed by and you took the exam. When you were done, you commuted back home.

When you finished the exam, you were absolutely anxious. You weren’t sure if you were going to pass or not and it made you scared, what’s going to happen if you fail this? You really wanted to see Jason now.

With slumped shoulders, you went to your apartment and unlocked the door with your keys. There, you saw your papers and chairs neatly placed away, a box of cake on the table and Jason cleaning the kitchen island. There was a small note beside the cake that read “Congratulations” with a flower next to it.

Jason’s head perked up as he heard you approaching. In your head, you thought he was going to give you a cold shoulder. He was very quiet these past few days after all. But instead, he just went up to you and gave you a tight hug. You gladly embraced back, wrapping your arms around his back.

“How was the exam?” He asked as he broke away from the embrace. “Pretty decent.” You replied. “I can’t promise you that the results are going to be good.”

“Nonsense.” He replied, “You’d be fine.”

You took a deep breath “Look, I’m sorry about what happened the past few days.” You apologized. “It’s okay.” He replied quickly.

“No, it’s really not.” You argued, “I should’ve made time for you. I’m really sorry.” your eyes teared up a bit. “Alright alright, that's enough.” He sighs as he caresses your hair. You sigh as you slump down on the couch, Jason took a seat beside you. You rested your head on his shoulder as he rubbed small circles on your arm.

He was taking care of you even after ignoring him for more than a week. He knew that you’d come home tired and anxious after the exam. He took care of your mess and even bought you some cake, what more could you ask for?

“Do you want cake?” Jason asked softly as he pointed at the untouched cake. “I don’t even think I have any more appetite left.” You said with a tired smile “Maybe later, I’m too exhausted to eat.” He then stands up “C’mon baby.” he said as he extended his hand “A nice warm bath will help.”

You just knew that no matter what happens, he still loves you.

my inspiration for this was my dog bothering me when i study, anyways please reblog and comment thank youu

[cyborg-franky]

Prompt: How would the straw hats react to reader being a mind reader? Please and thanks

Repost of mine from libary of ohara

Sanji Sanji is sweating because every time he has an intimate thought about you or anyone else, he can feel eyes on him. You glare and he fidgets under the intensity of it, wondering if you will blurt out the dirty thoughts to anyone else.

Every time he thinks it’s safe to think about how good the woman at the bar would look without their dress, he has to stop himself, turning with a wide eye and seeing you glare at him while sipping your drink. Just ruins the boy’s entire life.

Usopp Another one who just opens and closes his mouth when you are around because after he lies and tells people these big, impressive stories that didn’t happen. You side up to him and ask him why he lied, you are so casual about it too.

Every time he’s about to lie to anyone, you raise an eyebrow, and he just laughs loudly and pretends like it was all fun and games. Now whenever he wants to talk to someone, he literally looks around to see if you are about

Chopper

He is so amazed! That’s a great power to have! He bounces up and down and is just giddy and asks you all about it. You sometimes read his mind and it goes from dumb stuff like ‘I want candy floss’ to something like complex potions to cure all manner of illnesses.

Robin She terrifies you. She’ll be sat there reading a book or just casually sitting at the bar, elbow keeping he propped up, hand on her cheek, her smile just slyly grows as your eyes do when you read what’s on her mind. She loves to mess with you.

She’ll purposely think of something dark or downright filthyand chuckle softly when she gets the reaction, she wants from you.

Nami Oh, you stopped doing that. You completely turn off your power when it comes to Nami, she can somehow always tell when you are in her head, and she’ll turn around with her hand outstretched and tell you the show was more money than you have.

Zoro Zoro’s mind is boring, it’s full of a collection of very ‘Zoro’ things such as booze, hating Sanji, working out and his swords. Plus, Zoro never thinks anything that he wouldn’t say out loud, he’s no fun and he knows that’s how you think and always smirks and thinks ‘nice try’

Franky Franky’s mind gives you a headache if you stay there too long. His face might often say ‘head empty’ but he is always thinking loudlyto himself and has so many projects flying through his head. So many complex designs, schismatics, maths, it’s all very exhausting for you.

Brook Brook doesn’t care if you read his mind so he’s very chill around you, he’s normally just humming inside his mind, and you hate that he can get songs stuck in your head. Like a constant source of the sound, if he’s not humming in his head, he’s humming out loud or thinking about asking if he should ask someone to see their panties.

Jinbei I imagine it’s very serene in there, like a little koi pond with the sound of wind chimes and you just get lost in there until he stubs his toe or something and it’s like a loud internal scream. Same when any of the crew does something stupid and poor Jinbei has to pick up the pieces.

Luffy “THAT’S SO COOL.” He’ll yell at you. The entire reason you’re on the crew was that Luffy found out you can read minds and he needed that on his crew like right now. He’ll sit there and always go “What am I thinking now?…. and now?… and now!!” and it’s always ‘wow that’s so cool’ or ‘I’m hungry, I’m going to ask them to get me meat…”

[sashi-ya]

𝑺𝑻𝑼𝑭𝑭𝑬𝑫 　「part 3」 soshiro hoshina x f! officer! reader

a/n: i wasn't expecting the amount of love I've been receiving for cuts of freedom and かんぱい！and because you all been so sweet and requested for a next part on this story, well... here it is! I hope you enjoy 🥺💖 tw: mdni! sex explicit scenes. shower sex. creampie. breeding mentioned. nipple play. soshiro being soshiro. wc: 1.3k // part1: cuts of freedom // part 2: かんぱい！// masterlist

Praying for no Kaiju appearances while this night lasts, you sit with your legs crossed and your cheeks on fire. He ordered you to keep it all inside of you, and all you wanna do is to please the slanted eyed demon in front of you.

Oh, he seems unbothered. Nothing has changed from the time he stood up as everybody was having fun and the time he returned to the table.

“I want you to sit back at the table with my cum still inside you… would you be able to hold it in for me?” “Ye-yes, Hoshina fuku-taichou…”

Soshiro takes quick snaps with his burning irises from time to time, never watching you for longer than a couple of seconds… however, it’s enough for you to understand, to feel as if he was making sure you were still holding it with all your will or if his warm seed has started to ooze down your legs.

Truth is, you are squeezing your folds with all your might to obey the vice-captain. Guilty of enjoying such impure act, perhaps also guilty for wanting that release to reach deeper, to make you his, to impregnate you even though the consequences.

“(Name)-chan!” you listen your name being sung by his sweet playful voice.

Shaking your head, you turn back to reality as you were not only lost in the memory of him cumming inside you but also the lack of energy you are experiencing.

“Y-yes, vice-captain Hoshina? You chime, with your back straight but your legs still crossed to the side.

You can see a little smirk on his lips, the little white of one of his fangs protruding… hungry, still, for your flesh.

“You seem tired; after all you’ve been through you should go to rest” he comments, but in reality he is doing nothing but ordering you to leave. And you know, exactly, why that is.

Again. And again. And again. He wants you all day, all night. Desperate, as if, perhaps, you were part of his training routine. Like the oxygen he breathes, and the water he drinks.

You are ready to object, but he is right. Even if he’d told you so because of real concern, you are absolutely tired.

You stand up, rather quickly and nervously. Your eyes open big, bigger. You shouldn’t have. Immediately, your hand reaches for your leg, stopping there by pure instinct. Were for you not realizing on time to stop, you could have use your hand to keep his seed from coming out.

Soshiro’s eyes slightly open in the menacing way that leaves you both trembling and needy. He knows what just has happened. He knows your already wet panties, now have become wetter and by far a lot more stickier.

“Y-es, I’m going to sleep. Have a good night everybody!” you salute, feeling your throat absolutely dry.

Everybody waves you goodnight as you walk with clear discomfort on your pace, ready to reach the showers before going to sleep.

It doesn’t take much for you to reach the community bathroom. Despite the base being huge, everything is at reach within the perimeter the soldiers move. And so, leaving the clothes you are sure should be burnt instead of cleaned on the ground, you hop into one of the shower units.

Drop by drop, lukewarm water cleans you from sins… but for how long?

In silence, he is so stealth and fast. Scared, but not surprised. You already know how he feels, how he smells and how he tastes.

“I thought you were going to sleep” Soshiro murmurs, entering the shower with you. “I- I couldn’t go to sleep with… you know” you whisper back, scared of anyone else coming.

His eyelid twitches.

“Didn’t I order you to keep it all inside, officer (---)?” he scolds you, pulling you against him by your waist.

You look down, eyes fixing on the perfectly sculped pecs, on the pale skin that is so easily bruised, so tempted to bite and mark.

“But- I tho-“ you wanna say something, excuse yourself, but your lips become sealed with his.

Those kisses he gives, scratching a little bit whenever he opens up with his sharp fangs… the way his hand squeezes your ass, the feeling of his hardness getting pressed in between your belly and his.

“You thought what? That I would fill you up again before sleep?” he asks, with his lips against yours.

You gasp. Not only he is good when fucking you, he is also good with words.

“This brings me memories… that day I’d have fucked you until you dropped if it wasn’t because you were hurt” he continues, reaching your breasts, pinching your nipples in between his fingers.

Soshiro inhales your moaning, going harder the more you do.

“Don’t say that, I know you we- were worried- fuck- for me” you giggle while his fingers are now deeply inside your folds.

Soshiro’s cheeks turn blushed, not because of the hot water but because of those words. In fact, you were absolutely right; he almost lost his mind when he saw you being a victim of your anti kaiju suit. Soshiro acts tough, but he is indeed the most gentle of them all.

“Shut up…” he embarrassed exclaims while picking you up from your thighs, making your back hit the shower wall behind you.

Snaked your legs around his tiny waist, both bodies eliminate any space in between them. Is it love or lust? it is both perhaps.

Probably a couple of seconds are what it takes for him to bury himself inside of you; there is nothing he wants more than that. Even if sore, even if drained. You, as well, don’t mind if your body asks for a rest.

Jumping rhythmically to his thrusts, with water pooling on your eyelashes; with your fingers interlocking with deep purple tufts of hair. All of him, all of you.

Your shoulder experiences sharp little cuts, that’s both painful and delicious; like the jaws of those monsters you fight, Soshiro bites your flesh to muffle the moans he can’t control.

The closer to ecstasy you both go, the louder the whimpers. And the louder the whimpers, the dangerous it gets for you. What would they say if Hoshina fuku taichou and an officer gets caught in such impure, unproper acts?

None of that, however, represents a worry for him nor you. There is no space, nor time nor brain capable to think of the rest right now that Soshiro has attacked your nipples. He pulls, he bites and sucks. Your core feels like exploding, the way his dick reaches for the perfect spot as if he was made for you, the way he stimulates your breasts.

No air is left to be breath, the humid atmosphere of the shower makes it even harder for the two of you. And his eyes, electrifying and deep, burn holes into yours as he looks up to see the expression on your face.

“Beautiful” he murmurs, with his tongue playing with your right extra sensitive button.

You brush his wet hair back, unable to think, unable to resist the urge to burst.

“Soshi..ro, I-…” you need to express what you heart aches to reveal. As if he didn’t know, as if he didn’t feel the same.

“Sh.. I know, me too” he shuts you up, this time before plastering a deep kiss on your lips.

This time, he doesn’t order you what to do with his needy release. Instead, he definitely knows you will keep it inside once again. Is it that he wants to breed you?

Oh, what a dangerous game you both are playing… What a risky kink of yours, Soshiro Hoshina.

The sound none of you wanted to listen has just took over the whole squad: Emergency Kaiju alert. “bet it will feel weird to fight with all of that inside, huh?” he laughs, rather loudly. “AH…. SOSHIRO T-T”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ Next part?

[writteninlunarlight-years]

Hazbin Hotel Headcanons

"We are Just Friends" "Just friends I thought I was your wife" Hazbin Men x Reader

Guess who's baaaaaack, it's ya fav writer Luna, whoot whoot

Lucifer

He was over the moon the first time someone mistook you two for a couple. He really thought it was his time to shine next to you, only for you to deny it right in front of him.

As the two of you grew closer and closer, the more 'friend' things you did, the more it looked like a 'couple' thing, from cuddling on the couch to holding hands at the mall.

When your actual friends started calling you a couple, he knew something was up. Not only do you tell your friends everything, but the giggles and pointing really laid it in for him that you may have some feelings.

By the time you were out in public again and you got called a couple he was quick to interject in the conversation to make sure it was clear that you two were actually a couple.

When you questioned him about it he was all smiles and giggles. It went a lil something like this:

You had pulled Lucifer from the man talking to you just moments ago. "Lucifer, what the heck? We aren't even dating."

He just smiled at you and shrugged, pulling you close to himself. "Well, to me, this looks like a date, a pretty person out and about with a pretty handsome devil."

You slapped his arm and rolled your eyes, trying to get the previous man's attention to let him know you were just friends. Then Lucifer chimed in, "Just friends, Y/N. You wound me. I thought I was your husband."

Needless to say, this whole interaction definitely helped you two confess your underlying feelings and start actually dating. So, there was a lot of good to come from some silly shenanigans.

Adam

Initially, he was against anything tying you two together. I mean, come on, he is the first dick. After all, he can have anyone he wants. Until he started catching real feelings for you.

When it was mistaken that you two were a couple after he started falling for you, he would loudly proclaim he was your husband, and you would just laugh and giggle.

Sometimes, you would correct him, especially in front of the seraphim or executioners, that you were just friends, but Adam was always there to tell everyone he was your husband.

He only saw hope that you would drop the foolish idea that you weren't his when you blushed at him, grabbing your hand and telling a winner about how he married you not too long ago.

The last time that you tried to correct someone on your and Adam's relationship, it went a little like this:

You shook your head, giggling at Adam's antics, and looked at Sera. "We are not married, I have no ring, and I am single."

Adam gasped and summoned a hundred different rings. "That's okay bitch. I can fix that. Take your pick. I am the first man, after all."

You blushed and shook your head, telling Sera you were close friends. Her knowing eyes read you like a book on how much you wanted to be more. Then Adam jumped in. "Babes, we're just friends. Are you serious? I am your husband; just let it happen, please."

Shortly after this incident, Sera had a long talk with Adam about how he should ask to be your boyfriend first, then maybe move on up to husband status.

Vox

He was content having you around, even if it stung every time you called him just your friend. He was happy he had a friend who genuinely cared.

He would, however, pout and give you too much space and distance when you would correct people that you were just friends. He wasn't petty, no, never. He just cared about you not being mistaken and not making you uncomfortable.

It was brought to his attention by the other Vees that you and he were uncharacteristically close for people deeming themselves "just friends." You two were glued to each other, giggling and bringing out your best selves.

When he realized this, he slowly stopped correcting people and would even butt in before you could correct them, just letting all of hell slowly think you and Vox were together.

The last time you ever corrected someone that you and Vox were just friends went a little like this:

You were watching one of Vox's live streams and saw an influx of messages asking where you were and when you two started dating. You sighed. "We are not dating. We are just friends!"

Vox short-circuited and turned to look at you. Quickly, he dragged you to his lap, setting you down and hugging you in front of everyone. "They are shy and don't want you all to know I am their husband."

You gasped and blushed brightly, trying to pry yourself out of Vox's grasp, but he held you tight and laughed with a big, bright smile.

Once the stream was over, a lengthy discussion ensued about the meanness of messing with one's emotions. Only then did you realize no feelings were messed with, and Vox was dead serious.

Alastor

With Alastor, it was all on the flip side. He was adamant that you two were just friends—good, good friends. However, you always longed for more and were hurt when the words left his lips.

He somehow always managed to miss your pouts and groans whenever the situation seemed to care how it affected you when he harshly told the world that all you were was a friend.

You found it hard to believe that you two were just friends when you did so much together, more than he and Rosie. You were always in his studio, sitting right next to him as he required while drinking tea that he especially makes for you and no one else.

You finally caved in and spoke to Rosie about the mixed signals her best friend was giving you, only for her to reconfirm your suspicions that no one else entirely lived in Alastors heart like you did.

The last time you let him ever call you just friends went a little like this:

Rosie sat across from you two as Alastor made your tea, a knowing look on her face. Before she spoke, you knew she would make the comment you always dreamed about your and Alastor's relationship. Sure enough, Alastor was quick to respond, "Rosie, dear, we are just friends. How many times do I have to tell you?"

Alastor's crisp voice rang out, and you were distraught. However, you had other ideas. You gently touched Alastors hand and smiled at Rosie. "Oh, he is too shy to admit he has a partner now."

The blush that reached both of your faces was priceless as you two looked at one another, and Alastor froze, spilling tea everywhere.

After your tea party, you sat down in Alastor's recording studio to discuss the intricacies of your relationship. As soon as Alastor finally admitted to his feelings, it just so happened that he 'accidentally' broadcasted your confessions live for all to hear.

[adddddiiii]

Hi! Could I request a Damian x femreader where her parents don't accept Damian because they think he is a playboy like his father and because they don't want their daugther to have a boyfriend to distract her from her studies, so they force them to break up amd now Damian need to gain their approval so her parents will let them date

Winning Their Approval

Contents: Damian Wayne x reader

Warnings: One use of y/n

The first time Damian met your parents, he’d thought it went well—at least on the surface. They were polite, though your father’s firm handshake lingered just a bit too long, and your mother’s smile seemed more rehearsed than genuine. You had reassured him afterward that they simply needed time to warm up to him.

But time hadn’t helped.

When they sat you down one evening to announce their decision, it hit you like a ton of bricks.

“We don’t think Damian is the right fit for you,” your mother said firmly. “You’re so focused on your studies right now, sweetie, and we don’t want anything—or anyone—distracting you from your future.”

Your father chimed in, his tone sterner. “Besides, Damian comes from a… colorful background. His father’s reputation precedes him, and we have no reason to believe he’s any different.”

You’d argued, of course. You’d told them how Damian wasn’t like Bruce, how he was caring, loyal, and supportive. But they wouldn’t listen. By the time you called Damian to tell him what had happened, you were in tears.

“I don’t care what they think,” Damian had said, his voice low and firm through the phone. “They don’t get to decide who you’re with. If you want to keep seeing me-”

“No, Damian,” you interrupted, your heart breaking. “I can’t go against them right now. Please, just give me some time to figure this out.”

For the first time since you’d met him, Damian had no response. The line went quiet for a moment before he finally whispered, “Okay. But I’m not giving up.”

You tried to move on, to focus on your schoolwork and avoid the ache in your chest, but Damian was never far from your mind. Late at night, you stared at the messages you wanted to send him, your fingers hovering over the keyboard before deleting them.

Unbeknownst to you, Damian wasn’t just waiting on the sidelines. He was strategizing.

One Friday evening, your parents called you into the living room and your stomach dropped when you saw Damian sitting on the couch, his posture perfect, hands resting on his knees. His expression was calm, but you could see the tension in his shoulders.

“What’s going on?” you asked, glancing between him and your parents.

“Damian requested to meet us,” your father said, his tone unreadable. “He wants to… prove himself.”

Your eyes widened, and you looked at Damian. He met your gaze, his green eyes filled with determination.

“Y/n, I meant what I said. I’m not giving up on us,” he said softly, his voice carrying a weight that made your heart clench.

Your mother cleared her throat, pulling your attention back. “Damian asked for a chance to prove that he’s serious about you—and about respecting our concerns. We decided to give him an opportunity to try.”

Damian’s efforts were nothing short of extraordinary. He volunteered to help you study for your exams, often coming over to your house and sitting with you for hours. He was patient when you struggled and quick to clear your doubts.

When your parents observed him, they couldn’t deny his dedication. He wasn’t a distraction — he was an ally.

One evening, after helping you solve a particularly challenging problem, Damian leaned back in his chair, smirking.

“You’re brilliant, you know that?” he said.

You rolled your eyes, a blush creeping up your cheeks. “You’re just saying that because you want my parents to like you.”

“Not true,” he replied, leaning closer. “I’d say it even if they didn’t exist.”

Your laughter filled the room, and for a moment, everything felt normal again.

But Damian didn’t stop there. He invited your parents to a formal dinner at Wayne Manor, where Alfred prepared an exquisite meal. Damian made sure to engage them in thoughtful conversation, so he could truly show them how much he cared about you.

“I want your daughter to succeed just as much as you do,” he told them while they were all waiting for dessert. “I don’t want to hold her back — I want to be someone who helps her reach her potential.”

One evening, as you and Damian were studying in the living room, your father called him aside. You watched nervously as they disappeared into the kitchen.

“I’ve been watching you,” your father said, crossing his arms. “You’ve done everything we’ve asked and more. But I need to know one thing — why are you so determined to be with my daughter?”

Damian didn’t hesitate. “Because she’s the most important person in my life. She makes me want to be better. I care about her, sir. Deeply. And I’m willing to spend the rest of my life proving that to you.”

Your father stared at him for a long moment before nodding. “All right. You’ve earned my respect. But remember — if you ever hurt her, you’ll answer to me.”

Damian’s lips quirked into a small smile. “Understood.”

When your parents finally gave their approval, you could hardly believe it. You threw your arms around Damian and hugged him hard.

“I told you I’d win them over,” he murmured, holding you close.

“You’re amazing,” you whispered.

“I know,” he said, pulling back to look at you. “But so are you."

And from that day on, you faced the world together, knowing that nothing—not even the initial disapproval of your parents—could keep you apart.

[lovexjoe]

How would Armando be if he thought the reader was sweet cute never hurt anyone or a fly but when they are partnered up to go on a mission she the opposite… please do this

Damsel In Distress

A.N: This one is gonna be fun! Y/N will be used as bait for a mission, but Armando doesn't realize she can hold her own. The karambit scene from Bad Boys For Life, Y/N takes the place of Armando with some dialogue changed. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nHQFzABygCI

Warnings: Violence, some fluffy fluff

Y/N POV

Armando and I have been arguing all morning and afternoon. I don't get what his problem is, he's treating me like a child.

"¿Estás loca? ¡No lo vas a hacer!" (Are you crazy? You're not doing it!)

"Im doing it and that's final!" You stormed out the house.

You guys haven't made things official yet and it's fights like this that reminds you this relationship might be a ticking timebomb. Since I've been partnered with him, he doesn't let me get in on ANY of the fun. I am talking I look like a damsel in distress even AMMO squad laughs about it.

"I think he has a crush on you. It's kinda cute" Kelly teases you as you finish up some of the files that needed to get done for the team. No one really knew what was happening behind the scenes.

"Thinks? Oh he definitely does" Rita says.

"I am sorry in advance that my son is a pain in the ass" Mike shakes his head.

"Advance? You a little late on the apology Mike. This boy been a pain in the ass since we partnered them up!" Marcus adds in.

Everyone chimes their opinion in till the room went silent due to Armando walking in.

"I don't think Y/N should be used as bait tonight, it's not safe" He leans against the wall with everyone trying to suppress their laughter.

Armando really does not know who you are. Yes, your exterior may look sweet and innocent, but out of the whole AMMO squad: you're the deadliest. Which is why you stick to the tech stuff until they really needed you. Mike and Marcus pulled him aside to have a talk: good luck cause he never listens.

Armando POV

This girl drives me insane. Someone as innocent and sweet as her just READY to jump in the fire. Mike and Marcus try to be the voice of reason, but I really wasn't trying to listen. If anything or anyone touches a hair on her head, I'm putting a bullet through them and not thinking twice.

"Mando listen, I understand and I am genuinely surprised that you care, but I promise just stay on standby and watch from the overhead." Armando shoots Mike a glare knowing he wasn't going to win this one regardless so he decided he'll just be on sniper watch.

As it started to get dark outside, we loaded up everything we needed. Y/N was geared up and she looked gorgeous. This women drives me completely insane, but I'd do anything for her. We parked in our hideout spot and started exiting out the van. I grabbed Y/N's hand.

"Listen, just signal me if you need help. " I pulled her close and placed a kiss on her forehead, then proceeded to set up my sniper in the designated area.

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Y/N walks to the pinpoint location, meeting up with the drug dealers. She brought her favorite little karambit with her. She warned Marcus and Mike that it might get bloody. These idiots knowing she's a female they're going to try to ambush her. Mike said as long as the leader isn't killed, everything else goes under the radar.

"Karina!" The leader calls out cheerfully. You drop the bag filled with fake money on the floor ignoring his gesture for a hug. Armando lurking from his position, taking quick glimpses of how gorgeous you looked right now.

"We're so sorry to have to do this to you Karina. But your services are no longer needed" 6 men started to slowly close in on you. Armando positions his finger on the trigger, ready to take the leader out and fuck this whole case up. Your safety means more than any case and he'd gladly go back to prison for you. Right as he's about to pull the trigger, Mike says over the intercom to just sit back and enjoyed the show. Armando was confused as you snatched the gun from the leaders hand, placing a bullet in each of his knees and uppercutting him: knocking him out cold. Nap time! You took out your karambit and everything went black. You didn't know what happened in between, but when you came back to your senses your karambit was shoved into the mouth of one of this drug dealer's minions. With 6 bloody bodies surrounding you. You turned to Armando and said

"Oops" You wink.

"That's what im talking about!" Mike and Marcus cheered. Rita and the rest of the AMMO squad came out to wrap everything up. You headed back to the van. Armando was shocked for sure. Turned on? Majorly. Sweet and innocent was DEFINITELY not the words used to describe you anymore. You heard the door of the van open, seeing its your favorite partner in the world.

"You okay mami? I don't want any problems." He slowly creeps in with his hands up, teasing you.

"Yes I'm fine" You chuckled as he pulls you close.

"Yes, you most definitely are" He leans down placing a kiss on your lips.

[ssa-danhotchner]

Jealousy jealousy | Aaron Hotchner x reader

summary: reader has finally started moving on from their past relationship with Aaron

cw: fem!reader, BAU!reader, reader is seeing someone new, Hotch wants to come back, regret, emotional conflict, jealousy, tension, let me know if I missed anything

wc: 1.1k

note: English isn't my first language so please be kind. I'm not really good at seconds part but I tried my best

read the first part here

The soft hum of conversation filled the BAU’s conference room as you glanced down at the case file in your hands, pretending to be focused. You weren’t, of course—not when you could feel Aaron’s gaze on you from across the table.

It was happening more often lately. The way his eyes lingered on you when he thought you weren’t paying attention, the way his jaw tightened whenever you laughed a little too brightly at one of Morgan’s jokes. You told yourself it didn’t matter. Whatever he was feeling—or thought he was feeling—didn’t change anything.

You were done waiting for Aaron Hotchner.

It had been months since that late night in the bullpen when you sat alone, drowning in memories of him. Something had shifted in you since then. Maybe it was the realization that holding onto the past was only hurting you, or maybe it was the encouragement of Penelope and JJ, who had both gently nudged you toward prioritizing yourself for once.

Or maybe it was him.

Ethan.

You glanced at your phone sitting on the table in front of you, the screen lighting up with a new message. You didn’t even need to open it to know who it was from; Ethan had a knack for checking in at the most unexpected yet perfect moments.

The thought of him brought a small smile to your lips. He was nothing like Aaron—charming in a carefree, easygoing way that made you feel like you could finally exhale after holding your breath for so long. You hadn’t planned on letting anyone new into your life, but Ethan had a way of breaking down the walls you’d built around yourself without even trying.

You could feel Aaron’s gaze sharpen as your smile lingered.

“Something funny, (Y/N)?” he asked, his tone deceptively light but laced with an edge you couldn’t ignore.

You looked up, meeting his dark eyes across the table. “Just a message from a friend,” you said simply, refusing to elaborate.

“Must be a pretty funny friend,” Morgan chimed in, grinning at you.

You laughed, the sound coming a little too easily. “He has his moments.”

Aaron’s jaw clenched at the pronoun, but he said nothing more, turning his attention back to the case file in front of him.

The tension in the room was palpable, but you forced yourself to stay focused. You weren’t going to let Aaron’s mood swings ruin the progress you’d made. You were moving on—finally, truly moving on—and he had no right to pull you back into his orbit.

---

Later that evening, you found yourself at a small café just a few blocks from the office. Ethan sat across from you, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief as he recounted some ridiculous story about a coworker.

You laughed, genuinely this time, and for a moment, it felt like the weight of the world had been lifted from your shoulders.

“You have a great laugh, you know that?” Ethan said, his voice warm and sincere.

You felt your cheeks heat up. “Stop,” you said, though you couldn’t hide the smile tugging at your lips.

“I’m serious,” he insisted. “You light up when you laugh. It’s… it’s really nice to see.”

Your heart ached at the kindness in his words, so different from the guarded affection you’d grown used to with Aaron. Ethan was open in a way Aaron had never been, and though part of you still felt guilty for comparing them, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for the change.

As the evening went on, you felt yourself relaxing more and more, letting go of the lingering shadows of your past. Maybe this was what you needed—a fresh start with someone who saw you for who you were, not who they wanted you to be.

But as you walked back to your car later that night, your phone buzzed in your pocket. You pulled it out to find a text from an unfamiliar number.

Aaron: Are you free to talk?

You stared at the screen, your heart skipping a beat. You hadn’t heard from him outside of work in months. What could he possibly want now?

Against your better judgment, you texted back.

Is everything okay?

The response was almost immediate.

Aaron: I’m outside your building. Can we talk?

---

You found him standing on the sidewalk outside your apartment, his hands shoved into the pockets of his coat. The streetlights cast a warm glow over him, but his expression was anything but.

“What are you doing here, Hotch?” you asked, your voice sharp as you crossed your arms over your chest.

“I needed to see you,” he said simply, his dark eyes searching yours.

You resisted the urge to laugh. “And this couldn’t wait until tomorrow at work?”

“No,” he said, his voice firm. “It couldn’t.”

You sighed, stepping closer despite yourself. “What is this about, Aaron?”

He hesitated, the silence stretching between you like a taut wire.

“I saw you today,” he said finally, his voice low. “Smiling at your phone. Laughing with him.”

You stiffened, your defenses going up immediately. “And?”

“And I realized something,” he continued, his gaze never leaving yours. “I don’t like it. I don’t like seeing you with someone else.”

You stared at him, your heart pounding in your chest. “You don’t get to say that,” you said, your voice shaking. “You don’t get to act like this after everything.”

“I know,” he said quickly, his tone desperate. “I know I don’t have the right. But I can’t help it, (Y/N). I can’t stand the thought of losing you—to him or anyone else.”

“You already lost me, Aaron,” you said, your voice breaking. “You made that choice a long time ago.”

His shoulders sagged, and for the first time, you saw the cracks in his stoic exterior. “I thought I was doing the right thing,” he admitted. “But I was wrong. I was so wrong.”

You shook your head, tears stinging your eyes. “You don’t get to do this,” you whispered. “You don’t get to come back now, when I’m finally starting to move on.”

“I know,” he said again, his voice barely audible. “But I needed you to know how I feel. Even if it doesn’t change anything.”

You stood there, staring at him as the weight of his words settled over you. Part of you wanted to believe him, to let yourself fall back into the comfort of his arms. But another part of you knew better.

“You don’t get to be jealous, Aaron,” you said finally, your voice steady despite the tears threatening to fall. “You had your chance, and you let it go. Now it’s my turn to be happy.”

He nodded, the pain in his eyes cutting you to the core. “I just hope he knows how lucky he is,” he said softly.

Without another word, you turned and walked away, leaving him standing alone in the glow of the streetlights.

---

tags: @cocopuff213 @zaddyhotch @lillyrob