#thank you for breaking your silence bc i needed this.....

[suhnandmoon]

Bro I’ll be so honest, I’ve just kinda been a silent observer of your profile for a while now, and I genuinely think you are the funniest person ever. Like everytime you post I need to make sure I’m alone because my family will yell at me for being too loud 😭😭

omg....... i love you............

no like this actually makes me so happy to hear,, thank you for telling me this. bc when im writing smaus it really does feel like im in an echo chamber where i've created like 10 versions of me all talking to each other and when its time to post it. i sit there and im like. is anyone but me going to actually like this shit..,....

[gghostwriter]

Can i have a fluffy spencer x reader piece. Just something cozy where they are all at rossis maybe after a case for some team bonding and chill time. And like he is offering everyone wine and reader goes along like "i can't" bcs she pregnant? Fluff fluff super fluff pls

Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader Trope: Established Relationship; Fluff! Just fluff! wc: 0.6k A/N: Reader is not part of the BAU, hope that's alright. I had fun writing this, hope you enjoy! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated 💗 Main masterlist

Special Diet. // Spencer Reid

Your fiancee and his team had been out on the field for three consecutive cases all over the country. Just through Spencer’s nightly ritual calls alone, you could tell how tired and stressed he was and by extension the other members. Which was why, during their second night back in home ground, you volunteered to cook them a small feast—as long as Rossi hosted it in his place, which he readily agreed to as he was never one to say ‘no’ when a culinary chef such as yourself volunteers to cook up a meal.

“So what did our local chef cook up for the night?” Morgan asked as the team sat around the laid out table by the backyard.

You smiled, placing the finishing touches on the table. “I wanted to give the Italian cuisine a break so I present to you, French delicacies. For the starters, we have here salade lyonnaise with slices of baguette—” gesturing to the mid-size plate to their upper left. “—our mains, steak frites, and yes, I remembered to make yours rare, Morgan—” a few chuckles escaped from the team members as the called out profiler sheepishly placed his hand down “—and profiteroles for dessert.”

Rossi then started going around the table with his choice of wine to match the lavish dinner you’ve prepared.

“If you weren’t engaged to Reid, I’d marry you,” Penelope gushed as she took a bite of her meal.

Emily chuckled. “Get in line, Penelope. I get to marry her first if she changes her mind.”

“You never fail to impress me, Bambina. Now can I interest you for a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon?” Rossi asked as he reached your seat between Spencer and Emily.

“Actually, no thank you,” your answer eliciting an echo of utensils being dropped on the table. “I’m trying to cut back.”

JJ leaned forward. “Our very own wine connoisseur is saying no to Rossi’s aged wine?”

“I’m trying this special diet,” you shrugged, subtly studying if any of the best profilers the FBI has to offer understood the real reason why. Based on Hotch’s small smile behind his glass wine, the unit chief had caught on quite quickly.

“You don’t need to diet. You’re petite and fit, right kid?” Morgan clarified.

The corners of Spencer’s lips pulled slightly up as he squeezed your hand in his. “Actually, she does need to stick to the diet.”

Penelope gasped, clearly appalled at the stance your fiancee had taken. “Take that back! No way you said that, Reid!”

You giggled at the affronted reactions of the team—minus Hotch and Rossi as the two older profilers clinked their glasses together at the side. “It’s fine, Penny. It’s the truth anyway.”

Emily sent a dirty look to Spencer before asking on. “What else does this special diet entail?”

“Unpasteurized dairy, cold cuts, liver, game meat, and raw sushi to name a few,” Spencer listed out loud and with each, the smile on his face grew bigger and bigger.

“Wait, isn’t that—” JJ mumbled before promptly standing up from her seat and rushing to give you a hug.

Morgan tilted his head to the side. “What? What did I miss?”

Spencer chuckled before revealing the most obvious clue. “She has to follow the strict diet for 36 more weeks.”

There was a beat of silence before shouts and squeals emitted from all ends of the table.

“You’re pregnant?” Penelope gasped.

Emily added on. “With boy genius?”

You both nodded, bringing out a printed sonogram safely tucked in Spencer’s jacket that was draped around your shoulders. It had been a surprise when you went in for your yearly check-up but it was the type of news that Spencer quickly became happy with. His own family was expanding and he couldn’t have chosen a better partner than you.

“We present to you, baby Reid!”

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[couldeatthatgirlforlunch]

A Day in Life

Synopsis: A day in your life while working as the Justice League's assistant. Also, they are all yanderes for you and it's Valentine's Day.

Pairing: Yandere!Justice League X Assistant!Gn!Reader

Tw: 18+ just because of a mention of Superman misusing his X-Ray vision and the mention of hooking up, aside from that, this is pretty SFW; Flash and Green Lantern are a little delusional; Hal Jordan is pushy; Batman is probably a little out of character (and I’m ashamed to keep it that way) bc I can't see him giving anyone flowers as Batman, just as Bruce Wayne; Mentions of them all secretly stalking you; This League members are Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman, Flash (Barry Allen), Green Lantern (Hal Jordan; John Stewart is mentioned), Aquaman and Martian Manhunter; I wrote too little about Martian Manhunter, Aquaman here because I don't know much about them; Wish I had more ideas for Wonder Woman’s interaction here too cause I love her; My crush on Hal is very obvious; Reader doesn't struggle much against them but they're also pretty tame; The physics in flying and running at super speed might be wrong but this is comic book science so it's wrong either way; English is not my first language.

Word count: 1,6k

Requested? No.

General masterlist | A Day in Life - Series masterlist

The zeta tube flashes and the AI voice announces the arrival of Flash. Your heart goes fast.

— Hey, (Y/N)! — In a flash, he's in front of you. — Happy Valentine's Day! — You tear your eyes off of your schedule on your tablet and see him holding a rose towards you.

— Oh, hey, Flash… — You reply a little tense. — Thank you… You didn't need to. — You hesitantly take the rose from him and whilst your attention is on staring at the flower and holding back a grimace, you miss the glint in his blue eyes. His blush is covered by his mask. His mind seeks for something to say before you decide to break the momentary silence. — You're really sweet, it's great to have a friend like you! — You make sure to exclain, the tone a notch higher, trying to make your point come across. Flash’s face falls.

— Uh- I- Actually- — His speech gets cut off by the zeta announcing Superman. Before you can have a heart attack, the boy scout also zooms in front of you, this time your hair blows back with the wind. He must've come flying.

— (Y/N)’s heart is pounding, what are you doing, Flash? — Superman alternates between looking at your face worriedly, then your chest, then glaring at the speedster by his side.

— What? Nothing! — Flash looks wide-eyed at Superman. Then his mind clicks and he looks at you again. — Wait, what? Your heart is pounding? Is it… Is it because of me?! — You see the dazed look on his face coming to the surface again. Oh boy.

You casually make the effort to take a breath you didn't know you were holding and make your heart go down. You hate when Super uses his X-Ray vision on you. You can never be sure when he is doing it, but why else would he analytically stare specifically at your body when he is worried about you? Also, that time when you commented with Sarah from the kitchen’s crew that you forgot to do your laundry and went to the Watchtower without underwear. Seconds later, Superman appeared in the doorway, looking startled and flustered, ears red. Although he pretended to have just arrived at the tower and you and your friend chose to ignore your embarrassment that your boss with superhearing might have chose that exact moment to focus his hearing on only the places around him, including your too intimate conversation, you still caught him red handed sneaking glances specifically at your hips, and he hurriedly exited the room after that. At the time, you had just recently started the job as the Justice League’s assistant. After that you were a lot more aware.

After a while you realized you had a reason to be.

Superman was glaring at the rose in your hand and Flash was daydreaming while looking at your face when the zeta flashed again and you snapped out of it fast enough that by the time you started talking, your mind didn't pay attention to who had just arrived.

— Hm, no. It's just you fast people are always catching me off guard. — Flash deflates and- Is he pouting? Bro. Superman lights up and looks at you again.

— Oh, sorry, (N/N), we always forget about that. — The alien chuckles while rubbing the back of his head.

— Superman. Flash. — You and Flash jump, but Superman, not surprisingly, doesn't react and just follows you three and looks behind the two heros in front of you to the one with the gruff voice that just arrived.

Flash groans and Superman just rolls his eyes, you can see that while trying to peak past the men’s towering frames blocking you. You don't have to guess much though, because they make space for the newcomer and you suppress a tired sigh at seeing Batman making his way to you with a gigantic arrangement of flowers that covers his entire torso, arms and head, only his bat-ears, legs and cape being visible.

— (Y/N). Those are for you. — Color me shocked. Before you can try to start thinking about how you are gonna take this absurdity anywhere, vengeance speaks. — I'm gonna leave it at your desk.

— Hmhmm. Thank you, Batman. — You refused to watch his retreating form and let any member of your yandere harem think you actually have an interest in any of them and look down at your tablet again. The action makes you remember the rose you're still holding and you hurriedly walk away from the two nutcases stuck glaring at the third and go to his side. — Actually, take this with you. — You stick the rose amongst the rest of the flowers and before any of them can say anything else, you get out of the room.

You take a deep breath. Since the League’s weird obsession started seemingly around a year ago, you had a whole crisis over it. The pay was good, and it increased even more when they took this insane liking to you, so it's not like you could just quit like it was nothing. Besides, it's the Justice League, you could run from the fucking planet and they would still find you. It's easier to adapt.

You go on with your routine for a few minutes until you bump into a neon green brick wall. Scratch that, it's just Green Lantern’s chest.

— Hey, cutie, I was looking for you. — Your eyes widen when the space cop suddenly holds you by the shoulders, pushes you against a wall, then lets you go just to keep his two muscular arms on each side of you, trapping you and keeping you close to his frame. Ugh, the Lantern with brown hair has always been the more touchy one. You miss the one with dark skin and common sense.

— Need me for something? — You hold a groan with the limitless possibilities of how he could use that sentence to be crude, but you just wanted to get rid of him. He smirks.

— I was wondering if you were free today and would like to go on a date with me later… — He knew you were free. You knew he knew you were free. Every time you have a date (and you never told them) the League seems to get more on edge and suddenly your workload increases. Tsk, you hate them. Unfortunately, you love nice things even more.

You raise an eyebrow.

— I don't even know your name. — You point out, maybe that would make him give up, but he just shrugged.

— I could tell you, trust is a fundamental part in any relationship.

— Is a date a relationship? Also I don't think Batman would like that. — Any of that. He cocks his head to the side and his beautiful hair moves down.

— Cutie, you don't have to worry about Spooky. And I don't want to just hook up with you, you know that. Now just stop playing hard to get and-

A golden light catches your attention, it could be a miracle, but it's just Wonder Woman's lasso wrapping around the lantern's neck and pulling him away from you. Unfortunately, she tied a it in a way that the action wouldn't strangle him or break his neck.

— Ugh, men really have no boundaries. — The amazon rolls her lasso back and takes a step towards you, keeping said man sulking behind her while analyzing you. — Forgive my friend, (Y/N). He grew up in a barn. — The stunning demigoddess smiles at you.

Ugh, if she wasn't just as crazy as the rest of them you would happily swoon over her.

— Right. Well, I have to go. — You turn your back to them and take fast but casual steps away from them and the empty hallway. It never fails to scare the shit out of you and give you goosebumps whenever one of them catches you alone in one of those, and the competition between them for your heart somehow makes you confident enough that if there are at least two of them, no harm will come to you.

You clear your throat. Happy thoughts, happy thoughts. The martian should’ve arrived by now and you don't doubt he reads your mind 24/7 when he’s close enough.

You’re about to turn a corridor when you spot Aquaman poking his head in a room, looking for something, it's probably you, only his body is visible and he can't see you.

You hold a groan and run as quietly as possible away from him without him noticing, remembering the time he ranted to you about seahorses being the most romantic fish species, with monogamous mate bonds for lifetime, and all the times he promised to show you Atlantis one day and make you rule his people by his side.

A few minutes later when you look at the clock, you know by that time they're all already in their meeting and not wandering around, desperate for a crumb of your attention. To confirm that, you open the camera’s feed that not many had access to and idly check their presence in the meeting room. Your stomach churns seeing your figure in one of their monitors, the others displaying normal missions info. Of course they would follow you around through the cameras, because that's just as important as discussing wars and crisis in Earth countries and other planets.

You passively shut the screen when you finally get to your office, in which you avoid staying until you absolutely have to, or the coast is clear enough to, otherwise it's the most obvious place for them to force an interaction with you.

You look up and your shoulders drop in defeat at the sign of too many flowers, gifts and letters from each member of the League.

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@wandalfnation

[always-just-red]

hihihi! sylus girlie here. as a college student i often never take breaks whenever im working and often stay up late finishing up assignments. then i stress out but never tell anyone and suffer in silence:’) i was wondering if you could do something similar with sylus x mc where mc often forgets to take breaks at the hunters association and is always the first the volunteer for missions so she could improve.

but then it’s starting to take a toll on her and is so so stressed, but feels bad about venting to someone or saying no to new missions.

maybe one day she’s doing a simple task like cooking herself dinner (or something) but accidentally burns herself and she just ends up breaking down and decides to call sylus and he immediately goes to her. :’)

feel free to decline or change anything! i just like the thought of someone comforting u when ur overworked and stressed bc i wish someone would do that to me lol.

Fast-tracked this one for you, anon! I'm really sorry you're having a tough time right now, and I hope this brings you a bit of comfort- remember, Sylus would want you to take care of yourself! Good luck with all your studies, and feel free to send in another request if ever you need it! 🥰

Technical Difficulties

Sylus x Reader 🩸

Summary: You're not very good at asking for help when you're struggling. Thankfully? You don't always need to.

Genre: fluff + comfort ft. a very domestic Sylus!

Warnings/Additional tags: stressed reader (has a lil bit of a breakdown!), some swearing, uses of 'kitten' and 'sweetie', Sylus is so soft here he should come with a health warning tbh

| Word count: 2.4k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

In the event of a wanderer incursion where evacuation of citizens is obstructed or otherwise not viable, association protocol 32.3-A dictates that you should first… That you should first… What?

Your pen is poised above the blank space where your answer should be. 32.3-A is a general procedure: something to do moving people to the nearest shelter. Or, wait— are you supposed to try to contact support, first?

You drop your pen with a huff and flop face-down onto the mock exam. It’s too much. Too much information, too much responsibility. Open textbooks are spread over your desk and around your head like an unholy halo— stacks of them, filled with codes and procedures. They’re supposed to be helpful, but they’re not; they’re drowning you.

Your phone pings and you glance up. Text from Tara:

Hi! Hate to be a bother, but did you finish glancing over that practice question for me? xx

Shit. You’d completely forgotten. You straighten, reaching for your laptop so you can load up your latest emails. You’ve got time to look over it; the exam isn’t for another two days. Breathe, ok? You have time.

Seven unread emails. What? You scan over them frantically. Two from the Captain: accepting additional mission requests you’d applied for. Were those both this week? One from Nero: you hadn’t sent in that finished report. Three from your colleagues, all scrambling for help with the exam. One from Tara:

Thanks for saying you’d look over this for me! You’re the best at this stuff!

Ok, so: Tara’s practice question. Nero’s report. Your own practice questions. Then… dinner? Maybe that should come first. You’d skipped lunch— had one slice of toast for breakfast. But you don’t wanna cook; cooking takes time, and you’ve got none. None.

Your phone is ringing, snapping you back to reality, and you peek over at it. Sylus?

“Hi,” you greet as you put him on speaker. On your laptop, you’re opening up Tara’s attachment.

“Are you free tomorrow?”

Always straight to the point. “Uh… yeah?” you frown as you read through your friend’s work. “Why? What d’you need?”

Sylus sighs through the phone. “That was a test, sweetie. You failed.”

“Yeah, well…” you murmur, highlighting a sentence with your cursor. “Add it to the list.”

The man doesn’t find that funny. The phone is quiet— too quiet. “Are you alright?” he asks, just as your gaze wanders to check if the call has disconnected.

“Mmhmm.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, Sylus.”

You stare down at your phone. He’s waiting for more, but you won’t give it to him. You’re one word away from slipping, and you can’t let the dam crumble, especially in front of him. He’s smiling from the phone call background: a photo he insisted would ‘ruin’ his image when you took it last week.  

“I need to go, ok?” Your eyes are shining.

“Ok,” he says softly.

There’s a bleep as the call cuts out, and the photo is gone. Waiting beneath it is another text from Tara, and one from Xavier: Nero told me to txt U bout a report??

You swallow the ache in your throat and slump down on your desk again.

…

You wake up with a start, your head ringing. The tangerine sky outside your window’s turned dark— your laptop, too— and light spills from your desk lamp, yellow on white pages. There’s more, and you turn, tracing it back to where it leaks through the crack of your almost closed bedroom door.

You hadn’t left any lights on in your flat. You hadn’t switched on your lamp, either.

Tiredness is dulling your thoughts and your senses, but you know you feel uneasy. There’s something in the air: smoky, but not unpleasant. You can hear something as well. No— two things. A faint, almost imperceptible hiss, and a more obvious humming.

Hunter instincts kick in. You roll open a drawer of your desk, snatching up one of your standard-issue pistols and removing its safety with a click. You stalk up to the door, your trained footsteps near silent. You take a deep breath, clearing your head. One. Two.

Three! You shoulder the door open, leaping through with your gun trained forwards.

At the other end of your sights, Sylus turns, an eyebrow raised. Your kitchen stove seethes behind him, and he gives you a once over as he sluggishly raises both hands. “You flatter me, kitten,” he smirks in surrender, looking between your weapon and his: a spatula.

You lower your gun, your heart still racing. “I could have killed you, Sylus!”

“That’s the spirit.” His hands drop, too.

“How did you even get in here?”

He’s turned back to the stove, and he’s using the spatula to push something around a frying pan. “Hmm…” he muses, then blink— he’s gone. He’s at your fridge a second later, materialising from thin air. “I wonder,” he finishes as he reaches around for something.

Show off. “You know how I feel about you telepor…” No. “Phas…” No. “Magic…king…?” By now he’s watching you over his shoulder. “You know— that thing you do.” You’re twinkling your fingers. “What do you even call that?”

“Magicking, yeah.”

You huff in response and he laughs, walking back over to where he’s cooking two steaks and preparing a salad. You’re still coming to terms with the fact he’s even here, looking... quite frankly ridiculous, because he’s wearing your apron. It’s too small for him. Baby pink. Frilly, too.

“You know how I feel about you magicking into my home,” you mutter distractedly, because actually? He’s kinda pulling it off. His sleeves are rolled up past his elbows, tight on his arms. “Use the door like a regular person, you psychopath.”  

“Where’s the fun in that?” He sounds smug. Ugh, he must feel your eyes on him; he must know. You think he’s toying with the idea of calling you out, but he doesn’t, and when he does speak, the smugness is gone. “Mephisto saw you were sleeping. I didn’t wish to disturb you. You sounded… tired. On the phone.”

Guilt twinges in your chest as you draw up beside him. “Is that why you’re here? Playing housewife?” You pick at a frill on the apron.

“Poke fun all you want,” he sneers. “This shirt costs more than your entire wardrobe.”

“Snob.”

“Ha.” You have to retract your hand as he threatens it with the spatula. “Watch yourself, sweetie. I’ll remember that the next time you ask to ‘borrow’ my card.”

You laugh gently. Now that’s a threat. You’re about to tell him so when you hear a ping from the other room, and your heart sinks. Just a single sound, and you’re back to where you were an hour ago, at your desk with the weight of the world on your shoulders.

Sylus hums in acknowledgment as you excuse yourself and hurry back to your workspace, snatching up your phone. You missed three calls while you sleeping: all from Xavier. He’s been texting you, too.

Nero’s yelling at me

Wants to talk to U

Can U pick up? Pls?

It’s one report, for gods’ sake. You feel your chest tightening again. You just needed to proofread it, but it’s probably fine, right? You wake your laptop out of standby; you’ll just send it as it is. “I’ll just be a minute, Sy,” you call out. “Need to finish one thing.”

He mumbles something in response, and you imagine it’s for the best you can’t hear it. Your keyboard clacks as you tap out a quick email to Nero, then you surf your files for the report he so desperately wanted. It should be… here. You attach it. Hit send.

Nothing happens.

Huh. You hit send again. Then again— still nothing. You groan, trying to back out of the email. None of your keys are working. Your cursor is stuck. “Oh, come on,” you release on an impatient breath. Switch it off, switch it on again? You hit the off button. The screen goes black.

With a sigh of relief, you wait a moment before switching it on again. The screen stays black.

“No, no, no, no,” you plead quietly, but it doesn’t cooperate. Your phone rings and you snap, hitting more buttons: Answer. Speaker. “What?” you hiss.

“Whoa. Hi…?” Xavier’s voice is cautious. “I don’t know if you saw my texts, but Nero—”

“The report, Xavier! I know! I know!” You try holding down your laptop’s power button. “I’m trying to send it, but my shitty computer won’t—”

“No way!” Tara’s voice comes in on the other line; did they both get the night shift? “Hey you! Did you get a chance to—”

“No, ok?!” you practically cry out. “No! Can you two just back off? Please!”

“Oh, sorry, I…” Tara sounds upset, then distracted. “Wait, Xavier wants to speak to you.”

“Are you ok?” he asks after a second.

Ok? You just want everything to stop. “I’m fine. Shit, tell Tara I’m sorry. I am sorry, Xavier, I just… I just need my laptop to…”

Work. Work! Nothing’s working. Half of your files are on there. How much of it is backed-up? Panic is setting in, gripping your body like ice. Your throat hurts and your mouth is dry, the dam is breaking and you can’t stop it. Tears prick at your eyes as you blink at the blank, hopeless screen. Your reflection stares back at you.

You let out a sob, expelling days of frustration and exhaustion. Everywhere you look there’s something you need to do, something you need to learn, something you need to finish. You can’t. You clasp a hand over your mouth, muffling your own cries.

Xavier is speaking— saying something over the phone— but you can’t hear him.

The light changes, and there’s a figure above you, lifting the phone from the desk. “They’ll call you back,” the shadow says. Sylus.

“Wait, who is this?” Xavier.

“That’s Skye!” Tara.

Your friends’ distant voices cut out as Sylus ends the call. He sets the phone down again, nudging your laptop out of view, then lowers himself until all you can see is him: his red eyes, softer than you’ve ever seen them. “Come on, sweetie,” he coaxes, guiding your hands over his shoulders.

You understand what he’s asking of you. His arms wrap around you and you hold him tighter, letting him lift you out of your chair. He feels warm, his skin ever so slightly flushed from where he’s been standing over the stove, and he pulls your legs around his waist, letting him carry you with ease.

With your face buried in his shoulder, you can’t tell where he’s taking you, and you don’t care. His shirt is going damp against your cheeks. You want to stop crying, but you can’t with the taste of your tears on your lips. You feel weak. You feel pathetic.

Something solid is behind you, and Sylus is setting you slowly down on the kitchen counter. He’s away from you for a moment— moving the frying pan off of the heat and turning a dial on the stove— but then he’s back, standing between your legs, standing close. You’re looking down until his hand is under your chin, lifting it with the delicate touch one employs when inspecting a flower that might break.

He shushes you without a hint of impatience. “Look at me,” he directs quietly, and when you do, he unrolls his shirtsleeves— drawing the cuffs over his hands so he can use them to wipe your eyes. “Now tell me what’s wrong.”

You do— you tell him everything. The hunter’s exam. The textbooks. The extra patrols you’ve been signing up for. The work you’ve been doing for your friends. The stupid report. The even more stupid computer.

Sylus listens collectedly, nodding his head and issuing the odd hum of understanding. He listens to all of it, and when you’re done, he pushes your hair back from your face with a sympathetic sigh. “Oh, sweetie.” A tendril is tucked behind your ear. “You should have said something.”

“I know.” Your gaze is still shy of his. “But how can I? I need to do this— be this— for everyone.”

His hands are on your cheeks again, drawing back your focus. “You’re just one person,” he says. “You— just you— and that’s all you need to be. You’re stubborn, and strong, but you’re not invincible. Even Linkon’s shiniest hunter is allowed to have limits. Everyone does.”

“Even you?” you snivel, setting him up for a quip.  

Nothing. He smiles. Shrugs. “Even me.”

It’s hard to believe when he’s staring back at you, oh so solid, oh so perfect. Always a picture of strength: of fiery determination or calculated coolness. Everything in extremes; nothing by halves. Except… his hair is slightly dishevelled from where he’s been working away in the heat. There’s a damp patch on his shirt. He’s wearing your pink apron, and there’s mascara on his sleeves.

Then there’s the way he’s looking at you.

It shifts when you finally look back. He drops his hands from your face and pulls back a little. “You do a lot for your friends,” he continues with confidence, but he’s rubbing his neck, “and they care about you. You should afford them the chance to return the favour. It’s only fair.”

“You’re right.”

“…Good.”

Perhaps it’s the fact you’ve vaguely composed yourself— or the way you’re watching him like you’re seeing something new— but he straightens self-consciously, rolling his shirtsleeves back up as his eyes go sharp: assuming their usual severity.

“You’re too soft, kitten,” he scolds, reaching out to tousle your hair until you’re glaring daggers from behind a curtain of it. “How many times do I have to tell you? You put yourself first. Always. No-one else matters.”

There’s quiet for all of a second. He can’t help correcting: “Well, except me, of course.” The apron’s crooked, and he flattens it with a brush of his hands. “Any time spent with me qualifies as self-care. You really should know that by now, sweetie.”

Your mouth curls, but you haven’t quite got it in you to laugh— not yet. Stretching his neck with two sideways tips of his head, Sylus returns to his post at the oven, where the meal he’s cooking has almost certainly gone cold. You watch as the stove flickers back to life. The man is humming again, and though the food might yet be salvaged, whatever melody he’s attempting is long-past recognition, let alone saving.

You chuckle to yourself.

And you can’t see it, but Sylus is smiling, too.

[fear-less]

₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 she ignored my letter!

pairing: james potter x f!reader

➥ In which, James writes you a love letter and hides it into your luggage carrying your clothes, not knowing he put it in a pocket you never open.

Warnings: angst, fluff, james pov, this inspired by awae (aka the best show ever)

a/n: heyyy... i had sm fun writing this, can't wait to write the rest of this bc i literally LOVE anne with an e and this is inspired by it ofc!!!! anyways, im barely writing now..smh, its cause im reading manacled and its literally heart breaking... im also editing on ae and its so hard so im slowly learning😭 but i want to finish this mini series by next week!!

series masterlist ! - divider creds: i-mmaculatus & dollywons

James had liked you for a while now. He wasn’t quite sure when it started—maybe it was the way you laughed at his jokes, always the loudest in the room. Or perhaps it was when he’d catch you staring at him, your gaze lingering just a bit too long, thinking he was too distracted to notice.

With the Christmas holidays fast approaching, James knew he had to make a move. He had to let you know how he felt. If you didn’t feel the same, maybe the time apart over the holiday would make it less awkward. But he couldn’t let another term slip by in silence.

Knowing your love for all things old-fashioned, James decided there was no better way to confess his feelings than through a handwritten letter. It felt personal, genuine—something you’d appreciate. But writing it turned out to be harder than he imagined.

He’d written and discarded at least a dozen drafts, each one crumpled and tossed aside in frustration. Finally, after half an hour of agonizing over the perfect words, he settled on this version. It was short, straightforward, and sincere:

Dear, (Y/N)

I don’t know how to say this without sounding like a complete idiot. I’ve tried a hundred times, and every single attempt has been worse than the last. So here’s the truth—I’m hopelessly in love with you.

You’ve probably guessed I’m not great at being subtle. But what I’ve never been able to say outright is how much you mean to me. The way you laugh, the way your nose scrunches when you’re concentrating—Merlin, you make it impossible to focus on anything else. I want you to know that you’ve made me braver, happier, better. If you don’t feel the same, that’s okay—I just needed to get this off my chest.

Yours, James

He sighed deeply, folding the letter carefully before slipping it into an envelope. Your name was written on the front in his slightly shaky handwriting. Taking a steadying breath, he tucked it into the inside pocket of his robes. He’d leave it somewhere you’d find it tomorrow, just before you both left for the holidays.

As he lay awake that night, James tried to figure out the best way to deliver the letter. Should he hand it to you directly? No, that was too nerve-wracking—he’d probably end up babbling like an idiot. Maybe he could slip it into your bag and avoid the risk of witnessing your reaction.

The morning was crisp, the kind of cold that painted your cheeks red and sent little clouds of breath swirling in the air. On the platform, the train sat waiting, puffing out plumes of steam that mingled with the frosty air. It was alive with the sound of students saying goodbye and dragging their luggage over the cobblestones.

James walked beside you, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. He was doing his best to appear casual, though every step he took felt heavier with the weight of the letter in his robe.

“Let me take that for you,” he blurted suddenly, nodding toward your luggage.

You blinked, surprised by the offer, but your lips curved into a warm smile. “Oh, thanks, James. That’s really sweet of you.”

He shrugged, trying to play it cool, but his ears turned a telltale shade of pink at your words. “What kind of bloke would I be if I didn’t help you out?” he mumbled, his voice tinged with nervous humor.

The two of you chatted as you strolled toward the train. You told him about your plans for the holidays—how you were excited to see your family, how your mum always made far too much food, and how you couldn’t wait to decorate the tree. James listened intently, nodding and laughing at all the right moments, even as his mind raced ahead to the task at hand.

Then, his opportunity came.

You turned away for a brief moment, waving at one of your friends across the platform. James acted quickly, pulling the envelope from his pocket and slipping it into the outermost compartment of your bag. His fingers brushed the fabric for only a second, but it felt like an eternity.

His heart was hammering so loudly he was certain it could be heard over the clamor of the platform. He straightened up just as you turned back to him, completely oblivious to what had just transpired.

“Thanks again for carrying that,” you said with a smile, your eyes meeting his.

James gave a small, lopsided grin and shifted your bag on his shoulder. “Anytime,” he replied, his voice steady despite the storm of nerves swirling inside him.

As the train’s whistle blew, signaling it was time to board, James knew there was no turning back now. All he could do was wait—and hope that when you found the letter, you’d read it and understand the words that had taken him so long to say.

It had been days since you’d left for the holidays, and James still hadn’t heard from you. Each passing day only worsened the sinking feeling in his chest.

Did you not feel the same? Did you hate him for ruining the friendship? Or worse, were you so disgusted by his confession that you couldn’t even bear to send him a letter saying so?

By Christmas morning, the knot of worry in James’s stomach had become unbearable. He’d stopped pacing and pretending not to care. He spent the early hours staring at the window, waiting for an owl that seemed as though it would never come.

But then, just as the first rays of sunlight streamed through his frosted window, he saw it—a familiar owl perched outside, clutching a small envelope in its talons. His heart leapt with a desperate flicker of hope. Maybe you’d only just found the letter. Maybe you’d taken your time because you wanted to write something perfect.

James hurried to open the window, shivering as the cold air rushed in. The owl extended its leg, allowing him to untie the letter. “Thanks, mate,” James murmured, absently offering the owl a treat before it flew off into the winter sky.

His fingers trembled as he opened the envelope, eager to see your handwriting. But his heart sank the moment he read the first line.

“Happy Christmas, James!”

No mention of his letter. No response to his confession. Just a short, cheerful note wishing him a wonderful holiday and apologizing for not writing sooner. You explained that things had been hectic at home and promised to catch up with him soon.

James felt his chest tighten, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. The hope he’d been clinging to was slipping through his fingers.

You’d ignored his letter.

You’d chosen to act as though he’d never written it at all, as if he’d never poured his heart out on that piece of parchment.

James scoffed, his grip on the letter tightening. Fine, he thought bitterly. If you were going to pretend his confession didn’t exist, he could do the same.

He shoved the letter onto his desk, glaring at it as if it were the source of his frustration. Deep down, though, he knew the truth: he didn’t want to ignore you. He wanted to write back, to ask if you’d found the letter, to make sure you weren’t upset with him.

But pride was a stubborn thing, and James Potter wasn’t about to let his vulnerability show again—not now.

As the snow fell softly outside his window, James sat in silence, staring at the letter and wondering if he’d made a mistake by ever writing to you in the first place.

When it was time to return to Hogwarts, James made no effort to find you. Normally, he’d scan the platform, pretending it was a coincidence whenever his eyes landed on you. This time, he couldn’t bring himself to look.

He saw you anyway, just briefly—standing near your family, your face lit up with that familiar smile. His heart leaped in his chest, and his legs almost betrayed him, ready to stride over and say something, anything. But he stopped himself.

Instead, James turned sharply, mumbling a quick goodbye to his parents before heading onto the train. He didn’t want to see you—not now.

The walk through the train felt heavier than usual. He knew exactly where his friends would be—the same compartment they’d claimed since their first year—but it felt like an eternity to get there. When he finally slid open the door, the familiar faces of Sirius, Remus, and Peter greeted him.

“Oi, Prongs!” Sirius called cheerfully, but his grin faltered when James slumped onto the seat next to Peter with a loud huff.

James leaned his head back against the wall, closing his eyes. He could feel Sirius’s gaze on him, curious and probing.

“What’s got your wand in a knot?” Sirius asked, unable to resist.

“Don’t.” James’s voice was sharp, firm. It was rare for him to be in a foul mood, let alone snappish.

Sirius raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. I won’t say a word.”

The tension in the compartment was palpable. The train rattled on, and the usual chatter of the four friends was noticeably absent. Sirius kept stealing glances at James, who sat brooding, arms crossed. Peter fidgeted nervously, while Remus flipped through a book, clearly uncomfortable with the silence.

Finally, about an hour into the ride, James broke.

“She ignored my letter.” His voice was low, bitter, but it shattered the quiet like a hex.

The others exchanged looks before Peter spoke hesitantly. “She really ignored it?”

“Yes, Peter,” James snapped, his tone sharp enough to make Peter flinch. Realizing what he’d done, James sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine,” Peter mumbled, avoiding eye contact.

“Maybe she didn’t see it,” Remus offered, his tone calm and rational. “What if it got lost in her luggage? Or someone else found it and hid it? Maybe you gave her another piece of parchment? There’s always a chance—”

“Moony, no.” James cut him off, his voice strained. “I double-checked. It was the right letter, in the right spot. And who doesn’t check their trunk full of clothes over the holiday?”

“Maybe she doesn’t,” Sirius said with a shrug, trying to lighten the mood. “You know, women can be unpredictable. Maybe she’s got a secret stash for random letters in her trunk.”

“No, she checks,” James said with certainty. “I’ve slipped plenty of things into her luggage before, and she’s always found them. She just doesn’t fancy me back.” His voice cracked slightly at the end, but he forced a small, bitter smile. “And it’s fine. I’ll get over it. I always do, right?”

The compartment fell silent again, the weight of James’s words sinking in.

Sirius leaned forward, a flicker of frustration in his eyes. “It’s not fine, James. If she didn’t fancy you back, that’s one thing. But ignoring you? That’s—”

“Don’t,” James interrupted quietly, his gaze fixed on the floor. “Don’t make it worse, Padfoot.”

Sirius bit back a retort and leaned back in his seat, muttering under his breath.

The rest of the ride passed more comfortably, but the shadow of James’s disappointment lingered. His friends cracked jokes and told stories, trying to lift his spirits, but even when he laughed, it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Deep down, James wondered if he’d ever stop wishing that you’d read his letter and felt the same way.

Hours later, everyone had gathered in the Great Hall. The enchanted ceiling reflected the dusky evening sky, and the buzz of students catching up after the holiday filled the room. Normally, James would sit with Sirius to his left, you to his right, and Remus and Peter across from him. It was a familiar arrangement, one you’d fallen into without question.

But tonight, James broke the routine.

He subtly nudged Peter into the spot on his right before sitting down, leaving the space where you’d usually sit conspicuously empty.

You walked in a moment later, scanning the Gryffindor table until you spotted your usual group. But when you approached, your steps faltered. Peter sat where you always did, looking apologetic but saying nothing.

Your eyes darted to James, silently questioning him, but he avoided your gaze, his attention fixed stubbornly on his plate.

Confused, you looked to Remus for an explanation. Out of all the Marauders, he was the one you trusted most to give you a straight answer. But Remus only shrugged, his expression carefully neutral, though the twitch at the corner of his mouth hinted at discomfort.

You scoffed, your chest tightening. First, James ignored you all through the holiday, and now he didn’t even want to sit near you? Fine. If he wanted to sulk like a child, you weren’t going to beg for his attention.

Without another word, you turned on your heel and walked further down the table, sliding into a seat beside your other group of friends. You forced yourself to laugh at their jokes and join in their chatter, but your mind kept wandering back to James.

At the Gryffindor table, James’s eyes flicked toward you more often than he’d admit. Every time he saw you laughing with your friends, his stomach twisted.

“Why is she acting like I’m the one in the wrong?” James muttered under his breath, jabbing at a piece of roast potato with his fork.

“Maybe because you’re acting like a prat?” Sirius replied, his tone laced with amusement as he leaned closer.

James shot him a glare.

“Look, Prongs,” Sirius continued, dropping the teasing. “She doesn’t know what’s going on. You didn’t even give her a chance to explain, and now you’re sulking like a first-year who lost his chocolate frog cards.”

“Explain what? She ignored my letter, Padfoot. What’s there to explain?” James hissed, though his tone lacked its usual conviction.

Remus sighed, setting down his goblet. “Did it ever cross your mind that maybe she doesn’t even know what letter you’re talking about?”

James froze, his fork hovering mid-air.

“Just talk to her, mate,” Sirius said, giving James a nudge. “Or don’t. But if you keep this up, you’re only making it worse—for both of you.”

James huffed, slumping back in his seat. The truth was, he didn’t know if he had it in him to face you just yet.

From across the hall, you caught the way James’s shoulders sagged, and for a brief moment, you considered walking over. But pride held you in place. If James wanted to act like this, fine. Two could play that game.

You and James hadn’t spoken in what felt like weeks. The once effortless connection you shared had been replaced with an awkward silence that weighed heavily on you. It wasn’t just James—it felt like the whole group of Marauders had grown distant, their usual antics and inside jokes missing their spark when you were around.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that you’d done something to upset him. But what? You racked your brain for answers, replaying every interaction from the past few months. James had always been one of your closest friends—why was he acting so strange?

Charms class was the hardest part of it all. You always sat beside James, sharing notes, exchanging whispers, and stifling laughs when Professor Flitwick wasn’t looking. Now, you sat in the same spot, the chair next to you glaringly empty.

You tried to focus on the professor’s instructions, but your thoughts were louder than his voice. Scribbling aimlessly in your notebook, you hardly noticed when someone approached your desk.

“Are you alright?”

Startled, you looked up to see a boy with a blue-and-bronze tie standing beside you. His face was vaguely familiar—you’d seen him around in class but had never spoken to him.

“Yeah—yes, I’m fine,” you stammered, blinking in confusion. Why was he talking to you?

He gave a polite, slightly amused smile. “Well, can you move your stuff? I’m sitting here now. We’re partners for the project.”

“Oh!” Heat rose to your cheeks as you hurriedly shoved your books to one side. “Sorry about that. I didn’t realize.”

“No worries,” he said, settling into the chair beside you. “I figured you weren’t paying attention—no offense. But I was, so I’ll explain what Professor Flitwick said.”

You managed a small smile, relieved by his casual tone. “Thanks. That’s… helpful.”

While he began outlining the project details, your focus wavered, glancing at James out of the corner of your eye. He was across the room, seated next to a loud and enthusiastic partner who seemed to be trying desperately to get his attention. But James wasn’t listening.

His gaze was fixed on you.

There was a flicker of something in his expression—jealousy, maybe? Regret? Whatever it was, it made your stomach twist.

You quickly turned your attention back to your new partner, nodding along to his explanation, even if you weren’t entirely listening. You felt James’s eyes on you the entire time, but you refused to look back.

Across the room, James’s jaw clenched. His partner waved a hand in front of his face, snapping him out of his trance.

“Oi, Potter! Are you even listening?”

“Huh? Yeah, sure,” James muttered, though his eyes drifted back to you moments later.

He hated this—seeing someone else sitting beside you, making you smile when that used to be his seat, his job. But he didn’t know how to fix it. The letter. The silence. The way he’d avoided you. It all felt too big now, too messy to undo.

Still, James couldn’t stop watching you, his heart sinking further with every laugh you shared with your new partner.

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[strandedtoodeep]

Poolverine fics rec' ✨

Yes, FINALLY.

So, basically what the title said: some poolverine's fics recommendation because i have 150+ bookmarks and sharing is caring so let's go!

I'll put title, link, tag the author (if they are on tumblr), numbers of words & chapters and probably silly summary or thoughts

I'll be adding some in the future with a red exclamation❗

The ones without smut have a bunny emoji 🐰

My faves are on top

If you have some recs i'm happy to take them thank you 🤲

Faves

Come Hell or High Water by @farmhandler 84k, 11 ch. || love when a fic take mental health seriously and talk about it in a way that feel so right? (bonus the smut is *chef's kiss*

Promise Me We'll Be Back In Time by @back4destiel 108k, 17 ch. || 50 First Dates was one of my favorite movie when i was a preteen (yeah) so this fic fill me with nostalgia and happiness

where soul meets body by @edgebug 33k, 3 ch. || one of my first poolverine's fic and it sets the bar so HIGH (and tbh i cried so much reading it, it's concerning)

silence is what i do best (but still i hear it all) by @cainroses 25k, 3 ch. || feral! logan is very dear to me and the character's voices in it?? absolutely delightful (beware the smut is very good but spicy)

Until you get sick of me, honestly by @3koboldsinahoodie 151k, 27ch. (on going) || i love it so much i want to forget it and discovers it again, the peak of two idiots in love it's beautiful

whoever makes my baby cry (is gonna lose some teeth tonight) by @wickedscribbles 16k, 4 ch. || love some genderplay, bottom and protective logan, my dear, i love it but most importantly the writings is scrumptious

The Void by @rovingotter 115k, 23 ch. || i'm still trying to process what i feel with this fic, please please read this blindly and i assure you, you'll never be the same

The Soundtrack by @greatsnakestintin 43k, 15 ch. (on going) || love a good road trip fic, love music so it's absolutely perfect for me! and the plot is so?? fascinating???

Kaleidoscope by Space_wanderer 79k, 14 ch. || CHAPPELL ROAN REFERENCE! when Logan is such a idiot Wade need to go get him AGAIN in his universe

Don't you want me to run? by @decaying-lover 89k, 26 ch. (on going) || if you love angst, this fic will serve you ANGST! love their dynamics, the tension, their voices, everything

❗Maximum Effort by ArtemisFAYZ012 168k, 33 ch. || OMG the plot?? the spicy spices?? the intimacy between Logan and Wade (AND Logan who falls so HARD for Wade)

On going

Somewhere I belong by @terrasilvershade 24k, 6ch. || another girls dad AU but this one, my god!!! the feels?? it's so interesting to see Logan being envious and it's writing so well

❗Do I Wanna Know by @slut-arc 13k, 5ch. || a 5+1 fic! It's cute and fluffy but also with sparkles of angst, and the ice skating scene??? didn't leave my mind for days ugh

Baby(girl) Don't Hurt Me by @peargreen-jellybean 16k, series with 4 works || 4 fics and i love them all! some good poolverine pining & domestic bliss + men in lingeries (my weakness)

❗Under Your Skin, Over the Moon by RatFlavored 5k, 2 ch. || first Soulmate AU i read for Poolverine and i love it??? So much??? think this trope is underrated ngl, and it's well written!

In Another Life by @flash-bastardd 32k, 10 ch. || x-men origins but better! (bc it's gay) i have some feelings with this movie but this fic healed me and i love it!

❗don't i give you what you need by @wickedscribbles 5k, 2 ch. || i cannot not put the new work of Wicked here, it's so good and the heartbreak??? the angst??? my heart bleed so much for them

call me when you’re ready to be real by @maroonmused 23k, 9 ch. || "and they were roommates" ofc like it's not absolutely obvious for EVERYONE except themself; a very good domestic bliss!

❗Echoes Through the Timeline by @piplover 64k, series with 4 works || i loved so many works in this series, specially the first and last one, break my heart and heal my soul

How To Pay For Rent 💸 by @fictionfeast 59k, 4 ch. || this fic feels like a fever dream, but a OH SO GOOD and well writing fever dream! (ngl as a french person Craig List scares me)

❗🐰 unhappy man syndrome by @gossippool 19k, 5 ch. || don't know if i'll recover from this fic, ever, but i'm so invested and it's pure whump all over (HUG FOR EVERYONE YALL)

❗Got My Mind Set On You by @buttsforabettertomorrow 23k, 4 ch. || Logan try so hard to be good and accepting in this one i love him so much lmao (and it confuses Wade so it's a double win)

🐰 Christmas in Canada by @thatoneartyishperson 7k, 3 ch. || listen, Halloween is still my favorite holidays but Poolverine AU Hallmark Christmas Movies ? URGH i'm here for it!!

❗back to the old house by @nico-di-angelol 71k, 8ch. || it's so interesting that i'm MAD at myself for not reading this earlier, yep it's THAT good! beware chap. 7 will break your heart

Synergy and Entropy by @artemis-pendragon 46k, 19 ch. || i was so sure that i'd put this fic here but no??? anyways, the hurt and angst in this fic are so astronomically good, so beware

❗🐰 Mr. Forgettable by @eliemo 40k, 7 ch. || okaaayy listen, this one make me cry every time i read it, idk how to explain why it feel so personal to me but it'll move you

🐰 make me into something sweet by @mothgardens 30k, 8 ch. || AU poolverine WITH MUSICAL CLASS? it's... it's beautiful! particularly love the dynamic between Logan and Wade in this one

❗knee deep in this thing called life by @secondbreakfastwizard 86k, 13 ch. || i'm so OBSESSED with this fic, autistic Logan is so dear to me (maybe bc i relate a lot) and these two are so stupidly in love

Complete

🐰 the dollhouse by @kanashikute 4k, OS || love the fluffiness in this fic, love how Logan accept to love, be loved and doesn't left Wade behind UGH they're so cute in this one!!!

❗Pavlov’s Dog by @panties-on-boys 18k, 11 ch. || this is the kind of fiction that obsesses me so much, and i don't even like perfume; it's the most smutty slow burn ever hehe

Girl Dads by @starburstsobsessions 40k, 16 ch. || AU poolverine's fic are fire and this one, THIS ONE, omg! this fic makes my dream (aka seeing dilf! logan) a reality

🐰 Glass Shards by greaserbabes 9k, 2 ch. || always love when Logan and Wade are SO STUPIDLY in love; ngl the scene with the glass shards make me cry every time

You Should Feel My Nature Too by sterlingstars 10k, OS || so uh, i love stripper! Wade okay? it's not really that with this one but it's as good AND wholesome (and spicy too) so yeah

🐰 The Folly Of Playing Gay Chicken Too Hard (Phrasing) by GayLord3000 3k, OS || the domestic fic where Wade is the stupid one, being so stupid in fact it's nearly cost him his relationship with Logan whoops

Love shot by lillygoeson 28k, 6ch. || another bartender! Logan one, but AU no powers AND with a good "twist" in the middle; this fic is so bittersweet and good oml

Don't Want To Be A Fool For You by @cuntylogan 96k, 5 ch. || bartender! Logan who try to fight his addiction (and slowly fall in love) has a special place in my heart, you go boy

❗🐰 This Old House by @twentyghosts 30k, 16 ch. || AU with patient! Wade and handyman! Logan, they fall in love, it's full of angst, fluff, hurt, and with a very cute ending

look at you by @weedwilson 3k, OS || yes it's shameless smut and mirror sex, my beloved... and I LOVE when Logan worshipping Wade this much bc he deserves it

❗🐰 Is It Casual Now? by @twilightkitkat 6k, OS || love this bc i have so many feelings about how the X-Men have treated Logan, i love seeing him stand up for himself **sob**

It's Just Chemistry by @farmhandler 37k, 5 ch. || in the same universe of Come Hell or High Water, there is so... so much angst but it's very good angst!!! still love this specific dynamic

🐰 We Should Just Kiss (Like Real People Do) by @nikaandtea 8k, OS || HOZIER REFERENCE! i'm still so happy when a fic talk about chronic pain combined with domestic bliss i'm totally sold

Night Terrors by educatedwish 50k, 13 ch. || love how Logan is written is this fic, how PTSD messed with his feelings in a serious way... my heart melt every time i read it

❗🐰 Relationship Advice by fir_forest 1k, OS || no but the idea of a fic like a relationship advice post on reddit??? i love this!! short, but sweet and very funny hehe

second nature to me now by @edgebug 36k, OS || a investigation in a gay club??? with my two idiots in love?? and with old gay Logan? i giggled so hard reading this, i LOVE IT

🐰 It Feels Like Home by @twentyghosts 10k, 6 ch. || one of my favorite trope is the 5+1 and this one... my god, right in the feels! so much fluffiness, coziness, it warm my heart

a loaded gun, can't contain this anymore (i'm all yours, i've got no control) by @obihoebikenobi 6k, OS || i have nothing to say other than read the tag hehe! but yeah love the concept, the smut is spicy (always like some focus on the claws)

🐰 stuck by the glue (oh and you) by prngslvr 3k, OS || a good rewriting of (some scenes) from DP&W, and one of my first fluff and non-smut fic that i read after watching the movie!

Let Me Get Back to You by RatFlavored 14k, 2 ch. || pls i want to read more fics with phone sex in it (i know it's specific) but in the meantime, this one is SO good (and full of feels too)

❗Heat of the Moment by @finelydressedspacemen 11k, 4 ch. || non traditional a/b/o my beloved!!! and it's always a little bit satisfying to see Scott mentioned (hehehe the drama)

tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow by signifier 10k, OS || i have a thing for time loop and this kind of fuckery, it's short but good and i love the title it make me chuckles

🐰 Take Me Through the Darkness to the Break of the Day by The_Colour_Yellow 17k, 10 ch. || a very good fic around hanahaki disease with my two favorites idiots??? sign me in! even with so much hurt and angst UGH

Oh, God, I Think I'm Fallin' by @slut-arc 15k, 5 ch. || the return of domestic poolverine and YES I KNOW but it's my weakness... and Logan is so emotionally constipated it's concerning

🐰 Little Reflection by @wickedscribbles 11k, 5ch. || poolverine + cute cat + Logan suffering from anxiety and i'm sold! because ofc Logan is a true and pure cat (and dog) dad

❗i bet we’d have really good come right on me, i mean camaraderie by @notesappwitch 31k, 2 ch. || bodyswap trope, love the character's voice bc it's so on point, very funny, a lot of emotions and the spicy scenes are perfect

the bucket list by @kanashikute 33k, 4 ch. || read this one, please, really, it's so bittersweet BUT i promise there's a good ending (and i cried so much while reading it)

🐰 he’s the headlights, I’m the deer by NatalieK 7k, OS || it's interesting to see Logan's losing his healing factor for once instead of Wade! and seeing Wade taking care of him, my heart

when you get a taste, can you tell me what's my flavor? by @slut-for-a-good-latte 5k, OS || one of my favorite thing with poolverine is psychic/quantum thingy bond because of the Time Ripper and this one DELIVERS!!

🐰 holding out for a hero by @splinnters 6k, 3 ch. || once again, i have a soft spot for Logan trusting Wade so much he called him when something is wrong and this, THIS is good

❗it's all in my head but i want nonfiction by @obihoebikenobi 21k, 3 ch. || Wade pinning x Logan perfectly happy in his relationship with his boyfriend who doesn't know he's his boyfriend it's perfect

🐰 I've got some color back (he thinks so too) by @mid13s 3k, OS || just a short fic with non-sexual intimacy because these two need comfort, hugs and a lot of affection (and the Hozier reference is chef's kiss)

who are you, really? by @edgebug 45k, 4 ch. || the sequel of where soul meets body and it's also an absolutely masterpiece! and still trying to process my feelings for this fic

[satcrvz]

hai... twirls hair... can i get some kenma w an s/o who's the opposite of him pls and ty 🤲

UNTITLED (sorry)

pairing : kenma x reader!

synopsis : kenma w a reader opposite him :p

cw : nothing besides the fact i never proofread

this is a little short but it gave me something to do thank you :3 ALSO I HOPE THIS IS OKAY..

nearly cried bc i’ve lost my 2021 ability to do hc format

kenma wasn’t huge on attention. he was much more fond of sitting in his own comfort. so when you slid into the empty classroom he’d been in, he was confused to say the least. during this hour you’d normally be found in your friend group.

"kenma!" you said as you made your way to sit on top of his desk. you swung your legs and admired his eyes and the way his hair slowly fades from one color to the other.

he looked up from his phone to look at you, "what are you doing here?" he asked.

"hey!" you exclaimed. "you could at least pretend to be excited to see me."

his eyes widened at your words, it didn’t come off bad, did it? "that’s not.. no.. i meant—" he stops trying to explain himself when he hears the little snickers coming from you.

"i’m just joking! i wanted to see you, it’s loud in the hall." you motion towards the door with your finger.

a grin makes its way across his face, "funny, you’re normally the one making all the noise."

"since when were you a comedian?" you roll your eyes at him. silence falls over the two of you and the audio of the hallway dies down.

you pause before asking him if he wants to ditch.

his eyebrows shot up in surprise, "i don’t know.. where would we even go?"

"c’mon, anywhere but here! baby please? just this once i swear!" you grab his hand and pull him to his feet. he sighs before grabbing his belongings and placing his phone in his pocket.

you both held hands on the way to the cafe that you decided on last minute. the walk there was peaceful with the two of you conversing and the soft blow of the wind.

"yn?" you glance up at him while chewing the donut that you’d just taken a bite out of. he reaches for your face and wipes a crumb off before saying, "thanks for bringing me here."

you ended up flashing him a smile. you were really glad he liked it. you had decided on the place because it was never too crowded.

"you’re welcome! i felt like we both needed a break." he nods at your words in agreement.

"also, did you know kuroo came to me yesterday whining that i took you away from him!"

"sounds like him." he laughs. "i’d rather be here with you than at school right now. let alone, practice."

"oooo don’t let him hear that babe."

his phone dings in his pocket and he reaches to grab it. "speak of the devil"

TO: KENMA

FROM: KUROO

dude where’s you go?

i feel like you’re shit talking me -_-

come here and help lev! yaku’s done with him lol

[animeomegas]

Hi! Could I request maybe the reunion between shikamaru and his alpha?? Like from the shikamaru breaking down bc his alpha is late from a mission and his teacher is dead Thanks!!

I think I've written something small about this before, but I'm happy to expand on it! Enjoy <3 ( I didn't realise I'd left this in my drafts, so here you guys go while my arms are sore still haha)

"Shikamaru, you need to sleep," you said gently, holding his face in your hands. Dark circles and stress bitten lips gazed back at you as he shook his head. He had looked worse when you first got home yesterday, but thankfully, after the first hour of cuddling and crying, it had been easy to get him to take a shower with you. Unfortunately, it was not proving as easy to get him to go to sleep.

"No," he muttered, voice hoarse from crying.

"You have to sleep at some point, sweetheart," you pointed out, smoothing your thumbs over his skin. He shook his head again. "Please? For me?" There was some hesitation this time, but he still shook his head in the negative.

It had been twelve hours since you'd returned, but Shikamaru was still firmly stressed and alert, coiled like a spring at every moment, despite your and his parents' best efforts in calming him down.

He was grieving, you understood that. And then a mission had taken you away from him when he needed you the most, you understood that too. You had the greatest patience for him, but he still needed to sleep (and you would also rather like to be able to use the toilet without holding his hand.)

"Shika..."

"Don't. Please, just don't. I'm fine."

He was clearly running on fumes, but you didn't know how to make him rest, other than just letting him push himself until he collapsed. You didn't even know why he was so resistant to sleep. Did he think you would be gone when he woke up even though you had promised to the contrary countless times?

You wracked your brain desperately, as Shikamaru moved his face until it was buried in your collar bones. You idly stroked his hair, allowing your fingers to glide through the soft strands. You needed to soothe him to sleep somehow.

You focused for a moment on the sound of his mother pottering away in the kitchen. You relied on her for advice on handling Shika's obsession instinct often, but she'd been unable to suggest anything helpful this time.

You started to hum, almost without thinking, as though it was an instinct to fill the silence without words. The melody started out as nothing more than a collection of random notes, but slowly, it morphed into one of your favourite love songs.

You sang softly, still stroking Shikamaru's hair in time to the music. Your voice was a little rusty from disuse, but you pushed through the minor discomfort.

A hot tear rolled onto your neck from where Shikamaru had his face pressed. You didn't bring attention to it, you just kept singing through the ticklish sensation.

You sang that song twice before you picked a new one.

And then another.

And another.

Eventually the tears stopped flowing and Shikamaru's breaths evened out. The weight of his head increased and his limbs went completely limp as he finally succumbed to sleep.

You sang that first love song one more time, just to be sure he was truly asleep, before you joined him in unconsciousness.

There was a long way to go, to process his grief properly, to reassure him that you weren't going to leave, maybe some more desensitisation training to help him cope, but everything would feel just a little bit better once he'd had some sleep.

[reidmania]

you are in love | spencer reid

part one, loml

summary; a year after jj’s wedding, you run into spencer at at museum only this time the difference between now and your relationship isn’t so much of a bad thing.

warnings; angst and fluff, new beginnings, fresh start, exes to lovers, hopeful/ happy ending, they are in love, they are my babies i love them, not edited bc my work is never edited, fem reader, no use of y/n cus EWWWW

2.2k words

an; since there was so many you are in love references in part one i thought it was fitting. thank u.

‘One look, dark room, meant just for you. Time moved too fast you play it back. Buttons on a coat, light-hearted joke, no proof, not much but you saw enough. Small talk, he drives, coffee at midnight. The light reflects, the chain on your neck. He says, "Look up" and your shoulders brush. no proof, one touch, but you felt enough’

Beige rough detailing ran over walls, warm air flooded the space as couples and friends — even families walked around. The shadows of each item showcased cascading down onto the floor.

The room was lit dimly by warm yellow lights that strayed from overly intricate chandeliers. The only sound was quiet mumbles and soft conversation from the people surrounding, gentle voices as if anything too loud may break one of the valuables.

Your eyes danced over a painting that hung on the wall, your eyes skimming over minor details as the a-ray of warm and cool toned blues and purples covered the canvas. What had given you the idea to come to the museum alone? You weren’t sure.

Maybe the need for distraction, or perhaps a break from the real world that seemed all too busy lately. Time seemed slower between the beautifully structured walls. Everything seemed delicate, and softer than the harsh of the world outside this building.

You walked around for a while before finding your way into a room that others crowded into. It was dark, apart from a few blue lights that came from under a table in the middle of the room. You weren’t sure what you were looking at — you also weren’t sure you cared when your eyes lifted and your mind grew empty of any thought.

There was a moment where your eyes just danced over the side of his face, the curve of his nose and lining of his jaw. Overgrown hair dragging down his forehead. Then his head turned and his eyes met yours.

Of course you would see Spencer. Of course the one time you decide to go out by yourself, to a place so beautiful. You would see him.

He fit right in, suit jacket over his shoulders, tie buried under a sweater vest. He was as beautiful as the architecture around you, looking as delicate as the items being showcased. You were sure outside of this room his dark suit and hair would contrast the beige elegance of the walls.

His eyes filled with something, a secret language that lingered between the two of you in the air. Almost a greeting but not quite. A soft smile lined his lips. The side of his face glowing different hues of blue as he stood in line with the table.

A year. It had been just over a year since JJ’s wedding. A year since you saw Spencer last. A year since a promise was made and broken between the two of you.

Three years since your world shifted and never quite found its balance again.

You smiled at him, before your gaze dropped down to the table but any idea you had of focusing on the sight before you disappeared as your mind filled with him.

Everyone around you and their gentle whispers of appreciation fell into silence for you. Everything besides him becoming a blur as you separated yourself from the reality of the world around you and back into the made up fairy tail in your head.

You spent a lot of time trying to grasp the fact that you had seen him, you had been given an opening a year ago, and you had failed to take it for what reason? You couldn’t name one now even though you were sure at the time you had one.

The room seemed warmer with his presence in it. Not uncomfortably warmer, not too warm but sort of like a hug in the dark of the night or the feeling of cold hands against a fresh cup of coffee.

When the crowd began to dwindle away from the room towards the exit, you followed. That until you heard the gruff of the familiar voice behind you.

“Hey stranger.” It seemed ironic really. His choice of words.

You turned on your heels, eyes meeting his. “Hi Spencer.” You breathed out. People walked around the two of you. Maybe you got a few looks but none that gained either of your attention.

He paused slightly — one thing you weren’t expecting was awkwardness. You and Spencer had never been awkward, a year ago you fell back into rhythm after a few shared words. Now it seemed different, the air seemed thicker.

“You uh.. You never called.” He said, his voice hesitant to bring it up. You almost wished he didn’t. You partly enjoyed the ignorance you both had chose to live in at the wedding, that everything was okay, that everything was normal and that maybe it would work.

You shifted slightly on your feet, hands coming to fidget with the sleeves of your knitted sweater, that blended in with the neutral tones around you. You thought back to the night of the wedding, his whispered repetition.

‘Don’t be a stranger’ He had said the same thing when the two of you broke up. You had assumed he was aware of that. You assumed he understood what his words indicated based off your history.

They were less of a, ‘hey! call me!’ and more of a, ‘i’m sorry about what happened and the fact things are different’ They were three years ago, and they were a year ago.

“I didn’t know you were serious.” You admitted. Your mind began to dwell on every word said since. His greeting. Was that as meaningful as his whispered words.

Stranger. He greeted you as a stranger and although you were aware of the common saying and reasoning behind it for everyone else. Now, knowing he was serious about his whole ‘don’t be a stranger’ thing, you wondered if they held a heavier implication of what had happened between you two — or what hadn’t.

His eyebrows knitted together in confusion as he waited a moment before he spoke. He cleared his throat, “I was..” He mumbled, his hands rubbing against the sides of his suit jacket for a moment before dangling by his sides.

You weren’t sure what to say. “I didn’t know.” You settled on. He let out a huff, a hum of acknowledgment before he looked around. The room was now void of others. Leaving you and him alone in the blue lit room.

“You know um- Blue lights actually help elevate brain function and boots alertness— Which um, I could feel someone looking at me. I wasn’t expecting to be you but I’m glad at it was.” He mumbled out and your heart warmed at the familiarity of his beautiful brain.

Your cheeks too warmed, when he brought up the fact he had noticed your eyes on him. You wondered if it was really because of the alertness that the lighting produced or more the fact that your eyes were filled with such heavy emotion the strength of your gaze was unavoidable. You didn’t know if the human brain was that aware, and while you were sure Spencer would, you decided against answering.

“You’re alone.” You stated, brain fogged.

He let out a slight chuckle as he nodded, eyes running down the features of your face. “So are you.” He stated in the same sort of tone. Wondering what your point was, and you weren’t sure you had one.

“I was observing.” You mumbled out, a defensive for your random statement. His lips parted as they tugged into a smile.

He tilted his head slightly, “You’re beautiful.” He said. Your eyes widened momentarily. He snorted at your reaction as your lips parted in lack of a response. What were you suppose to say when your heart felt like it was being squeezed of all life.

There was new something in the air around you. Something similar in the look in his eye and the gentleness of his smile, the same something fluttering around in your stomach.

“I thought we were observing.” He mumbled out, shrugging simply.

You huffed at his quick wit and the light hearted playfulness. It made the air feel less heavy of history. A smile on your lips as you shook your head. You looked behind you, over your shoulder at the door before your gaze returned to Spencer.

“Do uh.. Would you want to walk around with me? Would that be weird?” You asked, almost half terrified of what his response might be. All too aware of the fact he could laugh in your face and turn away — although you knew deep down he wouldn’t.

He smiled, “Id like that.” He mumbled softly. His eyes staying on yours. The two of you stayed in the same position for a moment, just looking at one another. Your eyes having a conversation of their own, before you let out a soft laugh and dropped your head, turning to walk away, he followed.

You found yourselves walking beside one another. No words shared really. There was no pressure to talk about what had happened a year ago, or two years before that. There was no underlying tension or bitterness.

You stopped in front of a large painting that took up the space on a plain wall. Having the entirety of the space to itself. The canvas was covered by greens and cool toned browns, causing the pink of the flower to stand out.

“Do you know what flowers they are?” Spencer asked, his eyes never leaving the painting as he stood beside you. Your eyes ran along the details of the artwork. Taking in every inch of it.

You nodded, “Lotus’. It’s a lotus pond.” You mumbled out as you recognised the flower. He hummed in acknowledgment and recognition. A sort of validation you didn’t know you craved until you received it.

“Lotus flowers normally represent new beginnings. Lotus ponds symbolise beauty and growth. A lot of people believe that they are very spiritual and can represent rebirth and resurrection.” He mumbled out, you were silent for a moment as you listened to him talk.

Your eyes flickered to his for a moment, his gaze shifted to you. There was a shared glance, a weight lifted. Then you both as if in unison turned back to the painting. Admiring it in silence, appreciating one another’s presence without the distribution of conversation.

There was a lot to be said but none of it seemed important when his shoulder brushed against yours momentarily. You didn’t pull your gaze away from the painting, neither did he. The silence spoke a million words, the gentle touch, a million more.

There was an announcement over the speakers of the museum causing a damp in the quiet appreciation from the people around you. It was an alert that in half an hour they would be closing in half an hour. You hadn’t realise it had gotten that late.

Spencer turned to face you. You saw it in your peripheral vision but you kept your gaze on the painting wordlessly. His eyes lingered on the side of your face before he spoke, breaking the warm silence that wrapped around the two of you like a bubble away from the outside world.

“Im glad you’re a stranger.” He started, which caused your eyebrows to furrow as you turned your head towards him, a flicker of offensive covering your features for a moment before he laughed and shook his head.

“No- I didn’t- Not like that. Just- We were so young and everything was new and exciting and I felt so much- I feel so much for you. That never changed even if we have. I want to know who you are now. I want to learn everything new about you.” He said. His voice was quiet as if he was trying to keep that warm bubble around the two of you.

Any offence you felt disappeared within seconds. Your heart tightened in your chest at his sweet words. The recognition that things were indeed different, that you both had changed and that they wouldn’t be the same as they were all those years ago.

And that it didn’t have to be a bad thing.

“I’d like that.” You exhaled out. He smiled, and so did you.

He looked around for a moment, breaking the eye contact. The secret language shared between glances you learnt all those years ago, before he turned his gaze back to you. An almost playful look in his eyes.

“Hi. Im Spencer Reid. I’d shake your hand but a lot of germs are spread through hand shaking — not that i think you have germs, well everyone has germs— I um.. I think you’re really pretty and I was wondering if you would like to go out with me sometime”

Your eyes widened at his ramble. You recognised it. The same way he had approached you five years ago in a cafe. You were partly shocked he remembered it off by heart, he was more nervous back then.

You snorted, unable to take the situation seriously. A wide smile on your lips as you attempted to play along through half hidden laughter. “Hi Spencer.” You re-introduced yourself, “I’d love to go out with you sometime.”

He smiled, the same sort of smile on his lips that was on yours. His gaze held yours. Everything was different between now and then, the look in his eye then was full of anxiety and awkwardness, doing anything to avoid your gaze.

Now, his eyes stayed on yours and were full of nothing but pure admiration and love.

Maybe not everything was different.

[aemondapologistfrfr]

Choose Your Next Words Carefully

aemond x sister!reader

Summary: You’ve waited for weeks now for everyone to return to court and provide you some much needed entertainment. Aemond is on edge and you push him until you get exactly what you want. 

Warnings: 18+ established relationship, swearing, wine, death(vaemond court), show aemond 🧎🏼‍♀️, after court gossip session, oral(f+m), p in v, slight choking, spanking 

Authors Note: nice little s1e8 insert bc i stayed there after all these years fr 🧎🏼‍♀️i went back and forth on whether to ‍have daemon join them or not 

Word Count: 3.7k

                                         ᓚᘏᗢ

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

I’ve been waiting a moon for this day to come. I normally despise being dragged to court but there’s such an enticing amount of tension in the air that I’ve become excited. Gods, this ‘succession’ matter being played out by my mother and grandfather is petty, but I’m eager for the entertainment. 

My brothers have been on edge leading up to today. Aegon hasn’t set his cups down, which isn’t new but it’s gotten more excessive. Aemond is quick to pull a dagger and toss threats at anyone who slightly upsets him and it has the whole Keep walking down different halls to avoid him. I’m just excited to watch how everything unfolds. It’s been years since Rhaenyra and Daemon fled to Dragonstone and with those years came more disdain from each side. 

I wait in my chambers for my mothers arrival with a smile on my face and a glass of wine in my hand. There’s one sharp knock and my doors are opening and closing quickly beholding Aemond. I sigh looking at him as he stalks over to me. He grabs the glass from my hand and places it on the table and my smile turns into a frown. 

“Is it your goal to be as drunk and bumbling as Aegon?” he tilts my chin up. 

“Aemond, enough,” I bat his hand away. “Some wine could do you good. You’re so pent up and angry.” I glare at him as he towers above me. 

“Do you think I would rejoice that they’ve come to court?” he scowls at me. 

“No but you needn’t bark at me about it.” I rise from my couch and push past him. His hand wraps around my arm and pulls me back to him. “Go down to the training yard.” I nod my head toward the door. 

“You dare to order me around?” his eye narrows. 

“It’s clear you’re wanting a fight and I’m no good with a blade. Even if I was, I could never be better than you.” I hope my subtle praise will soothe his temper for the moment.

“I know what you’re doing.” his nostrils flare. 

“I’m not doing anything, brother.” I bat my eyelashes at him. “Everyone knows you’re our best sword. So fearsome and brutal.” his eye bores into mine and I continue on. “Rider of the largest dragon, commanding the skies with the mighty Vhagar.” I search his face for any softening features and see none. 

I look up at him and take on the full force of his unyielding stare. I wait for him to do anything and I see the side of his mouth slowly start to turn up. He steps closer and I tilt my head a little further to keep our eye contact. A soft chuckle rumbles in his chest as he takes another step and we’re inches apart. I’m over his taunting and decide to break our silence. 

“Not even a thank you?” I hum expectantly. 

“For stating facts?” he tilts his head and I roll my eyes. 

“Go train, Aemond.” I push his chest back. “You’re our best sword, yet a better one is on his way to court, if not already within these walls.” I purse my lips and yanks me over to him. 

“Choose your next words carefully.” he looks down at me with a dark eye as his fingers dig into my arm. 

“It’s always been your goal to best Daemon, no?” a small smile forms on my lips. “I think I shall bed him and see if he’s better than you in that regard as well.” I hum titling my chin up with contempt and his fingers are quick to latch on tightly and tilt my head further up. 

“If you-“ my chamber doors groan open.

“Aemond,” our mother hisses, slamming my chamber doors shut. 

“I’m going to train.” he clicks his tongue and sweeps out of the room. My mother watches as the doors shut and looks at me with annoyance before calling my handmaidens in and having them ready me for court. 

                                         ᓚᘏᗢ

I’m standing next to a rigid Aemond and a swaying Aegon as Vaemonds voice raises as he yells at Rhaenyra and her children. I watch on with quiet amusement and my eyes catch Daemon on the move. I watch him curiously and I look at him with wide eyes thinking there’s no possible way he’s going to- Vaemonds head hits the floor and I gasp. I step forward watching him casually clean his blade with a soft smile. 

Aemonds hands hold onto my arms and start to pull me out of the throne room and I keep turning my head back and looking at the scene. Guards rush past and my heart beats faster as my shock turns into adrenaline. I look up at Aemond as he starts to usher me up the stairs to his chambers. He seals the doors shut and I pour us each a glass of wine. He grabs the glass and takes a generous sip and I raise my brows, nodding at him as I sip mine. 

“He’s fucking mad.” Aemond looks at me almost in disbelief. “He’ll get away with that, no question.” he claims a chair. 

“Of course he will.” I sit opposite him. “He was defending Rhaenyra, fathers only child.” I roll my eyes. 

“Gods, seeing our corpse of a father walking in was an unwelcome sight.” I chuckle at his words. 

“I think I could smell the decay as he passed.” I smile and see one start to crack across his face. These rare moments are my favorite, when we are able to actually talk without any filter. 

“I could see you drooling over Daemon like a dog.” I scoff at him. 

“I was not.” I bring the wine to my lips again. “He just made court entertaining. I should thank him.” I hum with a smile. 

“You are insufferable today.” he glares at me over his glass while he sips his wine. 

“You’re so angry today.” he sighs loudly. 

“That bastard boy deserves nothing. He looks so smug and what? I’m to pretend I’m fine? I’m whole? No,” he shakes his head. “He owes me a debt. I am angry.” he looks at me with a hard face. 

“I thought we’ve moved past this?” I ask softly, searching over his face.

“Would you ever? Truly?” he searches my eyes. “Tell me, could you move past being permanently maimed?” he waits for my answer. 

“I couldn’t.” I shake my head. That night will haunt me forever. My mother and I being the only two at his side. 

“That is why I am so angry. All of the time. Father didn’t care about me.” his laugh is bitter. “He doesn’t still.” he shrugs. “He tells the Stranger to wait so he can lift Rhaenyra and her children up again and again. Mother and grandfather just embarrass themselves and us in the process.” his words hold so much emotion and so much truth. 

“It looks as if the Stranger is out of patience. I think he’s going to die soon.” I look up at him and know the relief and hope that resides in his eye is mirrored in mine. Our mother bursts into his chambers and looks at both of us relieved. 

“We’ve been looking everywhere for you both.” she looks us over and begins talking about everything that’s happening going forward and tells us to prepare for supper. She’s out of the chambers as swiftly as she entered and Aemond and I stare at each other. 

“How mad do you think mother would be if we missed supper?” he smiles down at me. 

“I’ll be mad.” I pout up at him. “This is bound to be as entertaining as court. Possibly even more so.” I nibble my lip smiling. 

“Mm, you just want to see Daemon.” he purses his lips. 

“Please,” I push my bottom lip out. “We can laugh about how pathetic everyone is after.” his face lights with amusement. 

“That’s very enticing.” he hums. 

“Then accept the offer.” I nod my head with a smile. 

“You’ll sit next to me?” I can tell he wants it to be a command but his voice wavers. 

“Of course.” he nods his head. 

“Then I guess I’ll take you to your chambers so you can ready for supper.” he sighs standing up and offering me his hand. 

“A gentleman, Aemond.” I coo as I accept his hand and rise. “Thank you.” I reach up and press my lips to his cheek. I take his arm and he walks me down the hall to my chambers. He presses his lips to my forehead before he shuts my doors once I'm inside them. 

                                         ᓚᘏᗢ

Aemond comes to escort me to supper and I take his arm. I look up at him and take in his set jaw and scrunched brows. He looks so exquisitely angry and I know there’s no consoling him before we enter the dining hall. Upon entering Aegon is approaching and shoving a cup of wine into Aemonds free hand. 

“Have you drank at all today? You look uptight.” Aegon smirks and Aemond frown deepens. 

“Let’s take our seats.” I hum, noting Aemonds white knuckles as he grips the cup. As we walk to the table our father is carried in and we stiffen as the room rises. He’s placed at the table and we all take our seats. 

The table is tense and silent and everyone seems to be holding their breath. Our father groans and stands dramatically, leaning against the table. He spouts on and shows his rotting face and I try to hold back my wince. After his speech everyone seems to feel more relaxed as if only for this moment, all somehow feeling as if it’ll be the last. 

I look at Aemond and smile and see him still tense. I offer him my hand under the table and he looks at it and looks at me. I stretch my hand closer to him and he exhales linking his pinky with mine and I glare up at him at his dramatics. He purses his lips and looks across the table and I shake my head reaching for my wine with my free hand. 

I relish in the sweetness of the wine and lean back in my chair. My mother looks at me and looks at the wine and shakes her head. I roll my eyes and set my cup down. I turn and see Aegon filling his cup again and shake my head because of course he wouldn’t be scolded. I turn back to Aemond and then I hear a chair scrape against the stone. 

My head snaps and I see Jace standing and glaring at Aegon who looks surprised. Aemond pulls his hand away from mine and stands. I look up at him with a scrunched brow and I hear Aegon sit and let out a soft chuckle. Jace feigns a toast in Aegon and Aemond’s honor. Jace sits and I stare up at Aemond with pleading eyes. When Aemond finally sits he slowly slides his eye to me. The anger is pouring off of him and I’m starting to wish we didn’t show up. 

The music begins to play and things begin to settle once more. Our father is carried out seeming only having seconds left to live at this point and I look to Aemond knowing we’ll discuss that later. The food gets brought in and I’m thankful for the promise that this meal is almost over until there’s a pig and chuckle sounded from across the table. In seconds the atmosphere of calm is gone and Aemond’s fist is on the table and his wine glass in the air. I suck in a breath and await his words. 

“Final tribute.” he hums to Jace and Luke. The words flow out of him effortlessly with subtle insincerity. I stare up at him thinking that this isn’t so bad until he called them Strong. I give him a warning glare and he raises his glass higher repeating the word. Jace stands from his chair and Aemond with a smirk says it’s a third time. In a breath Jace's fist is on Aemond’s face and Aemond has him on the stone with a push. Then everyone is up trying to deescalate the situation and I’m grabbing Aemonds arm as Daemon looks at him with a raised brow. They look at each other and Aemond’s hand grabs mine and pulls us out of the dining hall. 

He’s quickly taking us through the halls and bounding us up the stairs. He pushes open the doors to his chambers with a thud and tugs me inside. He slams the doors shut behind us and I turn to him. He stalks over to me and clenches his jaw. “Was that as entertaining as you hoped?” he waits for my answer.

“None of that was my desire.” I look up at him with a frown. 

“I asked not to go.” his words clipped. “But you just had to see Daemon. Had to see what he would do.” I see his hands clenched as he tries and fails to rein in his anger.

“I’m sorry.” I whisper. “Do you want to talk about how father showed us how he's half dead?” I offer a soft smile trying to lighten the mood. “Talk about how pathetic everyone was?” I tilt my head. 

“Not at this moment.” he shakes his head once. 

“What would you like to do?” I step closer to him. His lips press to mine brusingly and he holds me against him with a tight grip. We make our way to the bed and he pushes me back onto it and I smile up at him. 

“I’ve been so mad at you all day.” he looks down at me with a dark eye. “Daemon this and Daemon that.” he flips me over and lifts my hips, resting me on my knees. “Nothing to say about Daemon at dinner?” he lifts my skirts and pushes them up my back. “The main reason you wanted to go?” his voice low as he pulls my small clothes down my thighs. 

“I didn’t look at Daemon at dinner.” he chuckles at my breathless words. “I looked at you.” I gasp as he spreads my legs wider.

“Did you like my toast?” his fingers trail down my slit. 

“Yes,” I whine, digging into the blankets. 

“I’m glad it was to your liking.” he says through his teeth before landing a hand onto my cheek then squeezing the tender flesh. His fingers graze my slit once more before landing on my other cheek and I dig into the sheets. His palm lands against my ass a couple more times before he shoves two fingers into me. 

“Aemond,” I whine. His fingers pump into me quickly and I feel the bed shift and suddenly his tongue is on my bud. I arch my back and moan loudly. “Yes, Aemond,” I roll my hips against his face. His tongue flicks against me faster and small pleas fall from my lips. “Please, Aem- I’m,” I cry out and pulse around his fingers and he continues to lap at me. He pulls his fingers out and sits back. 

“Look at you trembling from just that.” I whine at his tone. “Shall I call Daemon in here and have him lick your dripping cunny? Since you think he’s so much better than me.” his voice low. I jolt forward as his hands begin to land on my cheeks again. 

“You’re the one who keeps bringing him up. Sounds like you want Daemon all to yourself.” I look back at him and his palm lands with a loud smack on my ass.

“Be quiet.” his hand lands on my other cheek pulling a whimper from me. “You infuriate me when you speak. Just be fucking quiet.” I pull a pillow to me and bury my head in it. 

Gods he’s in such a mood and it’s exciting me to no end. His grip is bruising as he holds my hip and slams his fingers into me again. All I hear is my pleasure coating his long fingers and his heavy breathing. He lands two quick slaps to my cheeks and I press back into his fingers. He lets out a low chuckle as I moan loudly into the pillow. I turn my head from the pillow having an idea knowing it’ll make him even angrier. 

“Daemon,” I moan loudly as I clench around his fingers and I hear him growl before pulling his fingers out. He flips me over and wraps his fingers around the column of my throat. He looks down at me with a dark eye and I hold on to his arm. 

“Do not,” his fingers tighten. “Speak his name again.” his words final. “Do you understand?” my pleasure pools as I look up at him. 

“Yes.” the word falls from my mouth. His lips slam onto mine leaving me even more breathless. His hand on my neck slides up to bury into my hair. He pulls back and I look up to him with a heaving chest. He yanks me up from the bed and begins to unlace my dress. He shoves it down my body and pulls my slip off, baring me to him. 

“On your knees.” his voice void of all emotion. I let out a soft whine as I start to sink to the floor. “Move your dress.” the cold stone presses into my knees as I settle on the ground in front of him. His fingers trace my jaw before tilting my head up. “I like you like this.” he hums, brushing his thumb against my lower lip. 

“Li-“ he pushes his thumb into my mouth. 

“Shh, shh.” he shakes his head and I roll my tongue around his thumb. “Unlace my trousers.” a simple command yet it leaves my fingers softly trembling. I pull on them and the leather loosens and I look up to him as I start to pull his trousers down. His hardened length springs free and I go to reach for it and he clicks his tongue and wraps his fringes around himself. 

“Open your mouth.” he pumps himself above me and I squeeze my thighs at the sight. I open my mouth and he pushes his length in. I wrap my lips around him as my tongue brushes against him. His fingers tangle in my hair as he starts to bob my head. I hum around him letting him control my movements. He sets a quick pace that has spit spilling out the sides of my mouth as I look up at him.

Gods the sight of him like this is enough to have me clenching around nothing. His hips snap into me and I choke around him hearing him chuckle above me. His fingers tighten in my hair as he continues his harsh pace causing my knees to dig into the stone. He pulls me off of him leaving a string of spit and I look up at him as we both pant. 

“Stand up.” his fingers stay tangled in my hair as I rise on shaky knees. He pulls my face to his in a rough kiss. “Go to the bed.” a small whimper comes from my lips at his words and he flares his nostrils. I turn and walk to the bed and wait for him as he undresses. His hands trail up my sides before he bends me over the edge pushing my head into the blankets. He lifts my hips until my knees are on the bed. 

“A quiet hole for me to fill.” he hums, digging his fingers into my hips as he swirls his tip around my core. I bite my lip as he starts to push into me. A strained whine slips past my lips as he grinds against me. I moan into the bed as he starts pounding into me. “Stay quiet.” he grunts as he tangles his fingers in my hair and pulls me up against him. 

I bite onto my lip so harshly I taste metal. He grabs one of my breasts and pinches my nipple as he continues to hammer up into me. I let out a small gasp and he shushes me. He releases my nipple and I press back into him when his fingers circle against my bud. “Aemond,” his name tears from my mouth as I fall apart. 

He pushes me down onto the bed again and leans over me pressing my body deeper into the mattress while he continues with his relentless pace. I can’t stop the moans pouring from my mouth as my pleasure feels never ending. “Gods,” he groans, pulling out of me. He stands and flips me over. He smiles as I wrap my legs around his waist and he presses himself back into me. He watches me as he slowly starts to rock into me again. 

“Please,” I arch up into him, holding onto his shoulders. 

“You were doing so good for me.” he tsks shaking his head. I look up at him with pleasure filled eyes as he presses a hand over my mouth and starts to slam into me. His hair curtains around us as he watches my eyes roll back. His strokes are hard and have me whimpering into his hand. His hand moves as he fills me and I let out small gasps while he slowly rocks into me. 

“I’d like for you to act like this tomorrow. Docile and sweet. Silent.” he presses his lips to my forehead, slowly pulling out. His lips press against mine and I hold him closer. 

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

masterlist 🔌 

bruises from him would be my fav accessory 🎀

taglist ✍️ 

@clarityisnofun @gabriella-aesthetic @callsignwidow @llynx7 @violetiss3lfish @ka1afbr @akiko-oo @papichulo120627 @lizzylovebooks280501 @thatgirl101blog @1-fuzzy-squirrels @arya-brooke @ashovertheriver @zanygot7straykidsbonk @moonymoo1 @malfoycassimalfoy @april-notthemonth69 @anaviieiraaa @p45510n4f4shi0n @neocockthotology @thereaderwitch @hardkiddonut @faenyra @hiimava11 @daintylittlesunflower @primroseluna @fiction-fanfic-reader @povofjustme @multilover19 @alexxavicry @cedstars @fuckalrighty @mrsmunson-harrington @misspendragonsworld @nz2004 @ninihrtss

[hoshigray]

HOSHII MY LOVE this is gonna be my first ever request to you 😕 i usually refrain bc i get shy but im so touch deprived rn i NEED YOU TO (only if u want to no pressure pookie) MAKE A LIL MAKEOUT DRABBLE with literally any character plsplspls its carnal atp i love u

-🍓

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: the way i wanted to make this a multi-post, but i've been thinkng this exact scenario w/ toji for the past week, it needs to get out of my head!! i appreciate you entrusting you're first req w/ me awwww ;w;

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Toji x afab/fem! reader - suggestive content; minors DNI - kissing/making out - dry humping/grinding - thigh riding - fluff yet...suggestive - grinding - thigh riding - fingering (f! receiving) - pet names (angel, baby, princess, sweetie) - Toji and you being touch starved - implied reader is toji's partner who looks after Tsumiki and Megumi (yes, I'm feeling soft, shut up) - mention of spit.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1k

After swaddling Megumi to sleep, you slowly put him in his cradle. The year-old baby snores silently as he leaves your arms’ warmth and lies in the comforting chill of the sheets. You then move silently to tuck in Tsumiki, the toddler sleeping in her tiny bed. You kiss her forehead gently, making her smile unconsciously. After saying a hushed goodnight, you close the door.

The plan was to stay until the kids fell asleep, stopping by your boyfriend's place for a night since it's been a little while since you last saw each other. Work’s been keeping you away for a minute, and stopping by at his apartment was needed to happen before you crash out from stress. And seeing the little ones’ faces was the cherry on top, their wholesome beaming faces instantly fueling your social battery. 

After silently walking out of the hall, you enter the living room, where your boyfriend stands by the chair with your bag. You smile pleasantly, teetering your way to him. And he, Toji, smirks at you, straightening a bit when you’re close enough. “Gotta go,” you say with a whisper. “Better catch some sleep before heading back to the office tomorrow. Megumi should be out till morning, so you should sleep easy tonight.”

“Thank Christ,” he makes you giggle, hushed not to wake the children.

The silence pushes you to look at him, your heart skipping at his forest green orbs already latched onto your frame. You cough faintly before grabbing for your purse. “Need anything before I go?”

A hand grabs your wrist to pull, and Toji impersonates thinking to himself while his hands snake to your waist to draw you closer. You roll your eyes – knowing what game he’s playing – but the smile on your face doesn’t falter. He then says, “Mmm, only one thing comes to mind.”

“And what would that be?” You quirk a brow, but your expression changes once he brings his face inches closer.

“I’m still waiting’ fr’ my kiss.” His gruff tone is dialed down, but his words affect a warmth to coarse through your chest.

It’s hard to say no when Toji’s nose brushes yours, lips hovering over yours, and your eyelids closing on their own. How long has it been since you’ve been close to him like this? You can’t even remember, work corrupting you for so long that this moment feels a little surreal.

“Hmm?” He teases you with a kiss on your cheek, and you shiver at the contact. “A guy can’t get a goodnight kiss before seein’ his baby off?”

You bastard… Holding back is futile when he kisses the corner of your lips, your hands cup his face, and bring him to your lips properly. He groans, the both of you sighing as your hands wrap around his neck.

You break the kiss, knowing it isn’t sufficient for you both. Toji licks your bottom lip, and you whimper as he kisses you again, a soft noise resulting from the withdrawal. “Toji—Mmm,” scarred lips claim yours once more, this time with more hunger. “I have to go…”

Your words aren’t acknowledged, not when he chews on your bottom lip — a signal for more access. Fuck, your resolve dwindles with the insertion of his tongue, almost going weak in the knees. But before that, Toji smoothly picks you up, and the sudden shift has you yelp.

“Stay with me,” Holy shit, the way he was looking at you caused your stomach to do flips. So entranced that you don’t realize he is walking to the couch to place you down on your back, crawling above you. “I missed you. Just tonight, sweetie.”

Liar, you know he wants you here for more precisely because that’s what you wish. But, “I…I can’t, I have to go—Mmmph…!”He slammed his mouth to yours again, nibbling on your lip until his tongue was let back inside your mouth. You moan, his leg propped in between yours, bumping his knee to your groin, which has you screaming silently. “Ahhnn! Toji, not there!”

“Shhh, relax, angel,” he coos, using a hand to massage your skull affectionately. He moves his knee, and you’re practically grinding on his thigh with a chewed lip.

“I can’t stay,” you’re hushed by his lips again, and your hips move on their own. “I have to go…Ohhh.”

“You say that, but look who’s ridin’ my thigh.” His chortle is low, and your stomach does knots. Toji moves your legs so he can be nestled between them, and kissing your neck melts you under him. “C’mon, princess, ya know I can’t let you go like this.”

Your brows scrunch together at him sucking your skin, legs coming around his waist as you hump into him. Toji does the same, rocking his hips to you perilously, the groin of his sweats grinding onto your bottoms, covering your throbbing chasm. God, it felt too good to stop now, your hands roaming inside his white wifebeater to purchase. 

He kisses you again, spit covering your soft lips, and you whine as he teases and sucks on your tongue; your breath hitches while his free hand slithers down inside your bottoms, and a shaky shriek is prompted by his fingers pushing into your panties.

“That’s right,” he coaxes you between pecks, loving the way your hands scratch on him. “Gonna treat ya right t’night, angel—”

However, the fun stops once you two hear the sound of a door crying, sniffling, and cries getting louder as they approach closer. It was Tsumiki, the poor girl shedding tears through her drowsy state. 

“Miki?” You call to the toddler; Toji quietly moves off you so the little brunette can come running into your arms. “Can’t sleep, sweetie?” She nods and burrows her face into your chest. You kiss her temple, “Must’ve been a nightmare.”

Her father hums and ruffles his daughter’s hair, chuckling when she swats his hand away. Toji then leans to your ear, “I’ll get the bed ready.” A mild glare meets a naughty grin before he gets up to his bedroom, leaving you on the couch to soothe the crying child back to sleep.

So much for sleeping easy tonight…

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ✩ dividers by @/benkeibear.

[onriyuview]

gentle

genre: smut, 18+ mdni

wc: 660

summary: cuddling with riku turns into lazy oral

cw: oral (f receiving), riku needs to hold eye contact, dirty talk

a/n: this was requested, thank you for making me write about riku bc i've been dying to but didnt know how to go about it. also missing riku hours now that he's on hiatus :(

riku is just sooo so cuddly. he asks his members for hugs just to recharge his energy and it’s so endearing. this detail about him doesn’t change, but intensifies with you.

imagine him coming home after a long hectic work day of jam packed schedules, barely having time to think to himself.

he immediately comes to you, not even bothering to change into comfier clothes or wash up first, he just wants you right now.

he’s putting his full body weight on you, flopping onto the bed and not moving. his face is buried in your neck and you put your phone down to welcome him happily. he only adjusts so he can breathe better, but other than that it’s a comfortable silence.

you’re running your fingers through his hair, your nails lightly scratching at his scalp as he lets out little grunts of pleasure.

“feels good,” he mumbles into your skin, tickling you and making you smile in response.

“you worked hard today, baby,” you tell him gently, hands still carding through his dark locks.

after a few more moments of silence, you think your boyfriend fell asleep by the way his breathing steadied out.

just then, riku inhales deeply. he starts pressing kisses to the soft skin between your neck and shoulder, moving inward toward your chest. his eyes are still closed but he knows your body like his own, knowing exactly where to place his lips to make you shiver under him.

his fingers are pushing your shirt up a bit, just so he can drag his lips across your hip and stomach. you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in.

“i thought you were tired, babe,” you say gently, your hand finding its way back to the top of his head.

“just want you right now,” he mumbles into your skin, the vibrations sending sparks to your stomach. “been thinking about you all day today.”

you blush, biting your lip in anticipation as he moves down to settle between your legs. he looks up at you with tired eyes and your heart skips a beat. he doesn’t break eye contact as he pulls your bottoms down, leaving your panties on.

“haven’t even done anything and you’re wet,” he whispers, almost to himself. you gasp as he starts teasing you through the fabric, fingers rubbing against the damp material. “will you let me eat you out, my love?” his eyes lock with yours.

“yes,” you breathe out in response, your fingers tugging at his hair lightly.

he wastes no time, pulling your panties to the side and licking a stripe up from your entrance to your clit, stopping to place small kisses to the bud.

his eyes haven’t left yours the entire time, his sharp eyes blinking slowly when he attaches his mouth to your cunt, flattened tongue swiping at your slit.

“feels nice,” you say softly, your hand pushing back his hair to get a better view of him. you shut your eyes in pleasure, the feeling of him on your pussy overwhelming you.

“mm-mm,” riku tuts as he pulls away, making your eyes shoot open and eyebrows furrow in confusion. “keep looking at me or i’ll stop, baby.”

you whine at the loss of contact but don’t do anything to argue as he pulls your panties down, putting them off to the side somewhere. his hands run along your hips and thighs as he settles back between your legs. the kisses he leaves are fleeting as he makes his way back to your pussy, running a finger along your dripping slit.

“just watch me and let me make you feel good, yeah?” he asks, his free hand squeezing at your hip before he returns his mouth to your heat, eating you out to his heart’s content to relieve the stress of the busy day he had before.

tags: @rikupid and @sminiac mwah ♡

[weneeya]

hi!hi!!! this is the same person who requested tht office romance w/ kuroo last time hehe. i love your writing style so much bc its easy for someone like me (who has a deteriorating brain functioning system from all of the brainrot ive been influenced by the internet) to understand and imagine in my silly deluional head XDDD anyways !! id like to request dad! headcanons for the black jackals (specifically, hinata, sakusa, atsumu and bokuto^^) omg maybe a scenario where they find out that reader is pregnant then proceed with the headcanon with how they act with the kid/s i just needed to request this bc my baby fever has been progressively getting worst and i just cant stop thinking abt kids :']] GOODLUCK AND I WISH U WELLLL !!! <3333

baby fever m.list | rules

pairing. msby x reader

characters. hinata, atsumu, sakusa, bokuto

note. omg thank you sm I'm so happy you loved the one with Kuroo because i loved writing it sm!! and i probably the idea even more because omg the boys as dads?? it's genius idk why i've never did it before! i hope you'll love it just as much <3

⎯ Hinata Shoyo

You had been trying to have a baby with Shoyo for a few weeks already, but it was like fate was against the two of you because you seemed to not be able to end up pregnant. You were slowly starting to lose hope ; thank God Hinata was way too positive and optimistic to even think about the worst. It was helping you, in a way. 

He was at the gym to train for their next matches when you learned the good news. You didn’t hesitate twice before almost rushing to join him. He was talking with his team, most specifically Bokuto, when you arrived like a fury. Shoyo looked at you with a big smile and you waved at him. He came to you in no time. 

“You seemed happy. What’s the news?” He asked with his usual smile, and you almost felt the tears in your eyes. You took his hands between yours, trying not to talk too loudly. “We did it Shoyo! I’m pregnant!” And your words didn’t get the time to fall in the silence. 

Hinata held you tightly between his arms, carrying you off the ground and spinning around with you in his arms. Right after your feet finally met the floor again, he cupped your face with his hands to kiss you. “I told you, we needed to be patient!” And you were sure that the rest of the team was going to learn the news sooner than later. 

good with children ; he has a little sister after all 

always so patient no matter what 

not the type to ever yell, so when he get to angry mod, the kid stop immediately 

will talk a lot about highschool and his friends ; so proud 

take pictures all the time, videos too ; a lot of memories of your baby boy 

ready to take a break from volleyball so he could give all his time to you and the baby

⎯ Miya Atsumu

Saying that Atsumu was scared of having children was an euphemism. The man was absolutely terrified by the idea. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to have a child with you, of course not ; it was just the responsibilities which were so stressful for him. He kept acting cool at first but after some time you’ve been able to understand what was going on inside of his mind. 

Until you’ve been confronted with reality. You were alone in the bathroom, and Atsumu was waiting for you right outside of the room. Things were a bit weird with your body lately and you both noticed it. So it wasn’t so surprising that you took a test just to be sure. 

You got out of the bathroom, and your gaze met Atsumu’s eyes. You slowly showed him the test, and he could quickly read the answer he was waiting for. You were pregnant. He looked back at you, and he saw that you were about to say something he didn’t want to hear from you. 

“Don’t ever say you're sorry,” he started, slowly caressing your cheek with his thumb. “It’s the best news you could have told me. Because we’re going to have the most beautiful baby ever, and I’m going to love you two until the end of my days.” This time, you couldn’t really help the tears which felt down your cheeks. You closed your eyes, and he left a kiss against your forehead. 

“I love you,” you told him in a whisper, and he couldn’t help but to smile slowly. “I love you too,” was his answer before he held you tight between his arms. He was scared, of course ; but he couldn’t be happier at the same time because God knew how much he loved you. 

the man is an overprotective mother ; almost like he was the one who bear the baby 

careful about absolutely everything 

acts cool but stressed when something doesn’t go as planned 

girl’s dad at 100% 

loves to be considered as a princess ; will wear a dress and a tiara 

bringing gifts all the time, especially when away because of volleyball

⎯ Sakusa Kiyoomi

You already talked about having children with Sakusa, but the conversation was never ending well. In fact, it always ended up in an argument. Your partner was completely closed at the discussion and you couldn’t understand why. 

So when you learned that you were actually pregnant, fear ran over you. You cried a lot, for a long time. How were you supposed to say this to him? Was he going to leave you? You were so scared, and it was messing with your poor mind. 

Sakusa came home after practice, and he found you in your bed, curled up in the blanket to hide yourself. A sigh left his lips before he took place right beside you after being ready to do so. “What are you hiding from me? Don’t say nothing, I know you too well. There’s something wrong.” 

You looked at him and he frowned immediately when he saw the redness of your eyes. You had been crying for quite a while, so he knew he was right ; even if he hoped to be wrong. He slowly caressed your cheek, waiting for you to find the strength to tell him. 

“Kiyoomi… I’m pregnant…” You told him in a little voice, and his eyes widened almost right now. He blinked a few times, and you looked away, feeling the tears coming back. “I know, we talked about it, but I…” 

Sakusa grabbed your chin with all the softness in the world, making you look back at him. He left a small kiss against your lips. “I couldn’t be happier, my love, I swear.” It was your turn to stay silent, all blinking. This is how you learned that the only reason behind Kiyoomi’s anger towards pregnancy was actually fear because of all the complications. 

But if it was for you, he was ready to take the risk. Because having a baby with you was all he could dream of. You just needed to be careful. 

biggest girl’s dad ever 

will do anything for his baby girl ; even if it meant going out with ribbon in his hair 

discreet about his private life but when he sees you two during his matches? can’t hide much longer 

completely devoted but still know how to be a little strict 

wants his child to have the best education so he’s careful about everything 

get scared every time the baby is just a little sick 

overly protective ; especially when it comes to boy close to his girl

⎯ Bokuto Koutaro

He was made to be a father, you were sure about it. He loved children so much, there was no way he wouldn’t be happy to learn that you were pregnant. But it was still pretty stressful for you, because you were never sure of anything with Bokuto. 

Today was the day, because he was finally coming back home after being away with his teams for a few weeks. You couldn’t announce this to him on the phone so you had to wait for him to come back. When he entered your shared apartment, he had a huge smile on his lips. Being able to finally reunite with you was all he could ask for. 

You were sitting on the couch, and he almost immediately jumped on you. As the yapper he was, he started to talk about his trip and everything that happened. But you seemed lost in your thoughts, and he noticed it quickly. 

“What’s wrong babe?” He asked, tilting his head to the side. You met his gaze and a sigh left your lips. “I have something to tell you,” you started, and Bokuto slowly frowned his eyebrows. Something was weird, and he didn’t like it at all. He stayed strangely silent while you were trying to find the right words to tell him the news. 

Another long sigh left your lips before you finally decided to say it out loud. “I’m pregnant, Kou.” And the silence after that was long. Too long for you, and you started to worry. Until a huge smile appeared on his lips. He grabbed your hands, eyes wide. “We’re expecting a baby? Really?” 

It was like all your worries fled away at this exact moment, and you slowly nodded with a smile on your own lips. “Yes, we’re expecting a baby.” Nothing could go wrong if it was with Bokuto after all. 

neither a girl’s dad or a boy’s dad ; just devoted and obsessed with his children 

had probably cry more than you when he saw your baby for the first time 

it’s like the accomplishment of his entire life 

not really the strict parent ; doing half of the stupidities with your boy 

will obviously teach him volleyball at the youngest age 

always playing with your son when he can ; doing his best to be as present as possible 

will show him to the camera during his interviews after a match 

always talking about you or the baby to everyone ; really the proudest 

a kid himself so obviously he know what to do to make the baby boy laugh 

thank you for reading!

[scoupsakakitty]

hiii can u do ot13 seventeen x reader angst where reader is just FULL ON crashing out bcs things arent going her way? like the whole package (crying, frustrated, yelling) stuffs like tht. thank u sm if u do it !! im looking forward <333

Out of Reach | Seventeen x 14th Member | angst

When Jeonghan opened the door, he was struck first by the overwhelming silence. Then the mess. Scattered papers, half-eaten meals, and clothes tossed carelessly over furniture created a chaotic backdrop. But what hit him hardest was Y/N herself sitting on the floor, knees drawn to her chest, her head buried in trembling hands.

It was the sound of her muffled sobs that froze him. This wasn’t the Y/N they knew, the one who always smiled even when life hit hard. This was someone breaking, piece by piece.

“Y/N?” he called, his voice soft but laced with urgency.

Her head shot up, eyes red and swollen. There was something wild in her gaze, as if she hadn’t slept for days. “What are you doing here?” Her voice cracked, raw and defensive.

“You weren’t answering your phone,” Joshua explained from behind Jeonghan, stepping into the room cautiously. He gestured to the cracked phone lying on the table. “We got worried.”

“You shouldn’t have come,” she snapped, wiping her face aggressively with the sleeve of her hoodie. “I’m fine. I don’t need this.”

Seungkwan stepped forward, frowning. “Y/N, look at yourself. This isn’t fine. Your hands are shaking—”

“Of course they’re shaking!” she shouted, her voice suddenly loud and sharp. Her hands flew into the air in frustration. “Everything’s falling apart! I’m drowning, and you’re all just here, acting like showing up will magically fix everything!”

The outburst stunned them into silence. Even Seungcheol, who had been prepared to say something comforting, froze at her tone.

“I can’t—I can’t do this anymore!” she yelled, standing abruptly. Her voice cracked under the strain of emotion, and her chest heaved as if she was struggling to breathe. “Do you even know how hard it’s been? Work’s a disaster; I can’t keep up. My family keeps calling, telling me I’m wasting my life. And Yeonjun—”

The name hung in the air like a knife.

“Yeonjun left, and he—he doesn’t care! He moved on so easily, and I’m just—” Her voice broke, tears spilling over again as she gripped her hair tightly. “I’m still stuck here, like an idiot, wondering what I did wrong!”

Her legs gave out, and she collapsed back onto the floor, her cries ripping through the room. It was the kind of heartbreak they could feel in their own chests—raw, gut-wrenching, and uncontrollable.

“Y/N…” Mingyu stepped forward cautiously, crouching down next to her. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Sometimes people just—”

“Don’t say that!” she interrupted, glaring at him through her tears. “Don’t tell me it’s not my fault when it feels like it is! He told me he loved me, Mingyu! He promised, and then he just… he left!”

Her words echoed in the room, heavy and cutting. She buried her face in her hands again, sobs wracking her body.

“It’s not fair,” she whimpered. “I gave him everything, and now he’s fine, and I’m—I’m a mess. I can’t even look at myself without feeling like I wasn’t good enough for him. For anyone.”

Seungcheol, no longer able to hold back, knelt beside her. He didn’t say anything at first, simply pulling her into a firm hug. She resisted, weakly pushing at his chest, but eventually, she broke, collapsing into him completely.

“You’re allowed to feel this way,” he murmured, his hand gently running over her back as she sobbed into his shoulder. “You’re allowed to scream and cry and hate the world right now. But don’t ever say you’re not good enough. Not for him, not for anyone.”

Jeonghan crouched nearby, his voice soft but steady. “You gave him your heart, Y/N. It’s not your fault that he didn’t know how to take care of it.”

“It doesn’t matter,” she choked out. “He’s gone, and I’m still here, and I don’t know how to move on. Nothing feels right anymore. Nothing works.”

“Then let us help you,” Joshua said, his voice steady. He sat cross-legged in front of her, his hands resting on his knees. “We can’t erase what happened, but we can be here for you. You don’t have to do this alone.”

“But I don’t know how to let go,” she whispered, her voice breaking again. “It hurts so much, and I don’t know how to make it stop.”

“You don’t have to let go all at once,” Minghao said gently. “Healing doesn’t happen overnight. It’s okay to take it one step at a time, even if those steps are small.”

“Start with this,” Seungkwan added, motioning to the mess around the apartment. “Let us help you clean up. It’s not much, but it’ll make you feel just a little lighter.”

“I can’t—”

“You can,” Seokmin interrupted, his tone gentle but insistent. “We’ll do it together.”

With a shaky breath, she nodded, though her tears didn’t stop. They all moved into action Mingyu and Jun clearing the trash, Dino folding her discarded clothes, and Vernon quietly taking out the recycling. Jihoon handed her a fresh set of tissues while Joshua placed a warm mug of tea in her hands.

When the space began to look more like a home again, Y/N’s sobs had softened to quiet sniffles. She sat on the couch now, wrapped in the blanket Minghao had brought her, her tear-streaked face buried in the crook of her elbow.

“It’s not fixed,” she said quietly, her voice raw. “I still feel so broken.”

“We’re not here to fix you,” Seungcheol said, sitting beside her. “We’re here to remind you that even when you feel like everything’s falling apart, you’re not alone. You don’t have to carry this by yourself.”

Jeonghan smiled softly. “We’ll carry it with you, as long as you need us to.”

And for the first time in what felt like forever, Y/N let herself believe them. She still hurt, and the pieces of her heart still felt scattered, but as she looked at the thirteen faces surrounding her, she realized she wasn’t alone.

Maybe healing wouldn’t happen overnight. Maybe she’d have more nights like this, where everything felt too heavy to bear. But she wouldn’t face them alone not when she had them.

————————————————————————————-

[darlingdaisyfarm]

oohhh ok this is so self indulgent but do you think you could do a short fic with ford comforting his fem!s/o that's crying because she doesn't feel like she's pretty enough? thank you lots of love 🥺🩷

prettier than a supernova | Ford Pines x reader

some people give compliments. Ford Pines gives a full scientific breakdown of how breathtaking you are

a/n: this is my soft little love letter to anyone who needs a reminder that they're perfect as they are. sometimes you need someone like Ford to tell you you’re worth more than the stars themselves. angel i hope this makes you feel warm and loved. just a little something to remind you that no matter what, you are stunningly, breathtakingly beautiful (also this can be read as gender neutral too!! this photo here is bc i love it and i think it just suits ford bc of sweater)

You don’t mean to start crying, you don’t want to. You press the heel of your palm to your cheek, frustrated. But that ugly feeling has been sitting inside you all day, heavily pressing against your ribs. Stupid, you think, you shouldn’t be crying over something like this. But it happens anyway as tears starts streaming down your face before you even realise what’s happening.

It started earlier. You’d caught your reflection in the mirror and for a second you had seen yourself the way you feared everyone else did. wrong. Lacking. Not enough. You ignored it at first, shoved it down, swallowed the bitter taste of self-doubt like it was nothing. But then it came back.

You thought Ford wouldn't notice, being too busy in his studies. But in the perfect silence of the Shack, your quiet sobs sounded louder than his own breathing.

“Darling,” Ford sets his book aside without hesitation. “come here.” his voice, as always sounds so quiet and calm, but it’s the way he holds out his arms that undoes you completely. There’s no question, no hesitation, just him, offering warmth, safety, attention, care.

So you go, you let yourself sink into his lap, curling up against his chest and the moment his arms come around you, your sobs break free. You press your face into his sweater, gripping the fabric and shut your eyes tightly.

Ford just holds you. No words, no shushing, he doesn’t rush you, doesn’t tell you to stop crying, doesn’t try to fix you. One arm wrapped around your waist, the other cradling the back of your head as he lets you cry, lets you bury yourself in his warmth, lets you be small in his arms. And you cry a little harder because no one’s ever done this before, not like this. No one’s ever let you be messy and sad and vulnerable and still held you like you’re worth something.

“Sweetheart,” he murmurs after a while, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. ”talk to me. What’s wrong?”

You shake your head because the words feel ridiculous and too embarrassing. But Ford just waits patiently, his hand never stopping its slow motions against your back.

After a while you whisper. “i. . . don’t feel pretty enough.”

Ford stays silent. The sentence you said doesn’t compute, the equation is missing a crucial variable. His brain thinks. You've just said something factually incorrect.

He is quiet long enough that you regret saying anything at all.

“Not pretty enough?” you wince at how ridiculous it sounds when he says it. You stay silent again. “talk to me, please, you’re too important to me to watch you do this to yourself.” last words didn’t come out the way he had planned, but it doesn't matter. The sadness in your eyes is enough to make him want to shield you from everything that ever made you doubt yourself.

“I don’t know, Ford, sometimes i just feel. . . just not enough.”

Ford takes a deep sigh and pulls back to see your face. His hands come up, six fingers framing your cheeks gently.

“But, love,” he brushes away the lingering tears on your skin. “who put that idea in your head?”

“Just. . . my brain, i guess.”

Ford frowns at that response, trying to figure out how to undo that thought that’s been rooted in you for too long.

“Listen to me, you are the most stunning, breathtaking person i have ever had the privilege of knowing.”

You sniffle, trying to look away, but he doesn’t let you, tilting your chin up until you meet his gaze.

“Not just beautiful,” he continues, “though you are, undeniably. But everything. Your mind, your heart, the way you see the world, i have never known anyone like you. And i never will. You are brilliant and strong in ways i could never hope to be.”

You avoid his gaze, looking down despite his tries to keep your eyes on him. Ford notices, of course he does, he always does and before you can fall apart all over again, he kisses you. So soft, a gentle press of his warm lips, reassuring you. “I wish you could see yourself the way i see you.” he says quietly into your lips. But you shake your head and pull away, laughing through your tears, feeling how emotions overwhelm you again.

“Ford, no—“

“No,” he interrupts and you notice how his voice gets more serious. “you need to hear this. After spending thirty years traveling through dimensions, seeing entire different galaxies and universes, watching alien creatures with more eyes than you can count, none of them, not a single one of them, come close to how breathtakingly beautiful you are.”

You make a small, broken sound and Ford just holds you closer as he continues. You’re speechless, heart hammering in your chest.

“And don’t get me started on physics,” he laughs softly, pulling you against his chest and caressing your hair. “you are more fascinating than a perfectly symmetrical snowflake viewed under a microscope. More miraculous than the way hydrogen atoms fused together for billions of years just to create you. Darling, i’ve held technology so advanced it blurred the line between magic and science. But none of it, none of it, has ever left me as breathless as you do.”

He’s so serious, absolutely devastatingly serious. You don't know if it's the exhaustion or the overwhelming love in his genuine voice, but another real sob breaks out of you before you can stop it as you hug him tighter.

“I really. . . just really wish you could see yourself the way i see you. You are the most extraordinary thing i have ever encountered and i have traveled across the multiverse.” and it's damn truth because when Ford looks at you, he sees more than just a person. He sees a universe, complex and ever-expanding, a mystery he will spend his lifetime trying to understand and yet, always be awed by.

Your chest is aching. It’s too much, he’s too much. So you do the only thing you can think of. You kiss him. It's kinda messy, still wet with your tears, but Ford doesn’t care because the second your lips touch his, he pours all his feelings into it, one hand tangling in your hair, the other gripping your waist, pulling you closer until there is no space left between you, reminding you of just how much he cherishes you, in every universe, in every corner of space and time.

And that's all you ever needed, to be held like the most beautiful thing in his entire universe.

“If the universe is infinite, then so is my love for you. If the stars will burn for billions of years, then let me love you for all of them.”

Ford cradles you against his chest, rocking you in his arms in a slow, soothing motion to calm his beloved. And for the first time in a long time, the voice in the back of your mind, telling you you're not enough, fades away replaced with the warmth of Ford's love.

“So, no, honey. I don't want to hear you ever say you’re not pretty again. Not when you're the most beautiful thing i’ve ever seen. Not when i know you are worth more than every star, every dimension, every equation in existence.” you pull him closer, feeling the steady beat of his heart as you close your eyes, smiling softly.

The first rule of observation is to watch closely, to notice every detail, to understand what no one else does. And Stanford notices everything about you.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Devastation

Requested Here by @newobsessionweekly!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!cop!reader

Summary: You leave Tim because he takes out his frustration about a long day on you. The next day, everyone in the station can tell you're both miserable. A surprise calls sends Tim into a devastated spiral as he wonders if what he said was worth it.

Warnings: ANGST, arguments, break up, death, mentions of execution, brief fluff at the end bc Tim deserves a break

Word Count: 3.4k+ words

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

“Los Angeles is seeing an intense spike in crime rates.”

“The Los Angeles Police Department has received more calls today than in the last two months combined.”

“A new, temporary emergency line has been announced. In case of emergency and busy 9-1-1 lines, please call…”

“Nearly 5,000 police officers are on the streets of Los Angeles city limits, with more dispatched throughout the county.”

As residents lock themselves into their homes in an attempt to be protected by the crime spike, you respond to call after call with no break in between. Some of the stops you’ve made were false alarms, but you’ve also been shot at, yelled at, and engaged in two fights between those pointless stops. Though overtime was approved, you’re nearing the end of your sixteenth hour in the shop and need a break. Grey called the officers from this morning to return to the station before heading home. You only get eight hours off before you have to come back, but you’ll take what you can get.

Tim’s place is closer to the station, so you plan to go there rather than your home on the other side of the city. The more time you can find to sleep, the better. You’re sure everyone is just as tired and in need of rest, so you would like to do something special for them in the morning. If you can wake up in time, that is.

“Hi,” you greet when Tim opens his door.

He is obviously surprised to see you but invites you in any way. You thank him as you walk toward the couch.

“Can I crash here tonight? It’s closer and I’m exhausted.”

Tim scoffs before he nods. He returns to the kitchen and continues cooking as you set your bag down.

“How was your day?” you ask. “I had endless calls, so I can’t imagine how hectic it was for you.”

“Of course you can’t,” Tim replies without looking up. “Considering you’re just a glorified meter maid.”

Tim is tired and stressed, you remind yourself, but the words still cut through you like the knife in his hand. You were in dangerous situations for most of the day, and though you haven’t been a cop as long as Tim, your job is still important. And you’re good at it.

“What is that supposed to mean?” you ask after a tense moment of silence.

“What I said. I do more than you, but if you’re so exhausted that you can’t even drive home-“

“Tim, that’s-”

Tim finally looks up as he cuts you off to say, “You barely passed your rookie exam, you haven’t made a decent-sized arrest in months, and you think they attached you to any decent calls? This city is ripping at the seams right now and trust me when I say you are chasing garden fluff because no one trusts you to do any more. You’re lucky they were desperate enough to bring you up from writing traffic tickets. We just needed help and you were there.”

Tim’s jaw clenches as he steps toward you, and you try to remember that he is just emotional from a long day. You are, too, but you’re not taking it out on him.

“I don’t want to fight with you about this,” you offer.

“Well, sure. Because it can’t be your fault, right?” Tim asks.

His voice is rising, and only the couch separates you. His eyes are dark, and though you don’t want to give him an excuse to keep going, you refuse to be treated like this.

“Why does everything have to be about who is at fault with you?” you demand. “Are you aware that things just happen sometimes?”

“Not to you, though.”

“If you think my life is so perfect, why do you insist on worrying about me so often? No one asked you to do any of this! You could have just asked me to go home if you were this upset about a bad day.”

“You don’t even know what a bad day is! What did you do today? Respond to all of the scared housewives in gated communities?”

You could tell him the truth, that you were inches away from a bullet intended to kill you, but you think he’d somehow find a way to blame you. Your heartbeat pounds in your ears, and though you want to stop fighting, you also need to remind Tim that you’re not a rookie he can walk all over you and blame for every little thing that goes wrong in his life.

“If that’s what you think I do, I can’t change your mind,” you reply.

“Well, those of us who actually acted like cops today went through more than you’ve seen in your career. You’re a bad cop, which makes it harder on the rest of us, to carry your weight, but no one admits it after they see your pretty smile,” Tim snaps loudly.

“I’m done, Tim!” you yell.

You’re surprised by the volume of your statement, but it gets Tim to fall silent, if only for a moment.

“With what?” he asks.

“This! I am done coming back to you every day just for you to pick fights over nothing!”

“Oh, so now it’s nothing? You can complain about your day, but I can’t?”

“That’s the difference, Tim! You’re not complaining about a long day to share something and ask for comfort. You’re tearing me apart because you can’t handle your own emotions. I love you, but these fights aren’t worth it.”

“You love me but I’m not worth it,” Tim says with a sarcastic shrug and set jaw.

“That’s not what I said, and you know it.”

“Well maybe I’m just as stupid about emotions and relationships as you are about police work.”

You pick up your bag and pull it onto your shoulder quickly. As you brush past Tim, you murmur, “I’m not doing this anymore.” The door slams behind you as you leave and severs the connection you and Tim had.

After you leave, Tim sits in his anger for a while. He blames you, picks apart everything you said, and misremembers your words to make you seem like the bad guy. Suddenly, though, Tim hears your genuine I love you, but these fights aren’t worth it. He remembers the look in your eyes as he yelled at you. You never wanted to fight; you asked to stop because you just wanted to relax before returning to work. Yet Tim treated you as an emotional punching bag, something he promised himself he would never do.

Tim drops his head into his hands and sighs. He needs to apologize but can’t take back a word he said. You said you weren’t doing it – your relationship, he presumes – anymore, so Tim gives you room. The clock ticks slowly as he thinks about you, but his next shift grows nearer quickly. He texts you an apology, knowing it’s less than the least he can do. You deserve a grand gesture, a middle-of-the-night, in-person apology from the heart. But with an early morning shift, Tim knows you and he both need the break Wade sent you home to take. So, he sends a few simple words before sitting back in his misery.

In your room, you sit alone to wallow. Your phone buzzes, and you read Tim’s apology before you toss your phone to the side. It’s not enough to forgive or forget everything he said, and you can’t return to that environment yet. So, you don’t answer.

You fall asleep at the same time as Tim, though far away from the comfort you craved, with only a few hours before you’ll be forced to see each other again. Maybe another seemingly endless shift will distract you from your sadness.

Walking into the Mid-Wilshire station the morning after your fight with Tim, your injured pride and broken heart go nearly undetected. You attribute this in part to the specialty donuts you brought in; you couldn’t sleep anyway, so you left before your alarm went off to try to make everyone else’s day better than yours. Lucy talks to you in the locker room like it’s just another morning, even though you are heartbroken. Tim, however, is the talk of the station. His visible devastation and misery draw the attention of every officer in the building. When you step out and unintentionally make eye contact with him, the people closest to you can see what you’re hiding a little better. 

“I should have seen it before,” Lucy tells Angela. “She was acting a little different, but I thought she was just tired.”

“I’ve never seen Tim like this before. He is miserable,” Angela says. “And he will take it out on you.”

“That’s fine. But… will they be okay?”

Angela shrugs. “I wish I could say yes, Lucy.”

Wade notices you and Tim sitting on opposite sides of the room during roll call, and he’s the last of them to be pulled into your shared misery. Now that you have seen Tim, your misery is just as obvious, and even the people who don’t know you or Tim well can see the difference.

“Nolan,” Wade calls before he instructs John to ride with you for the day. You’re unsure if it’s because of you and Tim or something else you don’t know about. Regardless, it’s because your emotions play a role in your ability to be a good cop… but maybe you were never one of those, to begin with, like Tim said.

At least I won’t have to talk. Nolan can carry the conversation for both of us, you think.

“What’s up with Tim today?” Nolan asks.

“We’re not talking about Officer Bradford,” you reply quickly.

“Okay. Then what’s up with you? The donuts were nice, but I assume you had the time to get them for a reason.”

“Nolan, we’re not having this conversation,” you snap. “We’re cops, not friends.”

“Sounds like I’m with Bradford,” Nolan mumbles.

“You have no idea,” you reply.

Meanwhile, Tim and Lucy are stuck at the station doing paperwork. Today is slower, and there’s a lot to catch up on from the chaos yesterday. Lucy knows better than to pry after spending so much time with Tim, but she can see that something is weighing on him. More than whatever invisible burden he’s carrying, Tim is devastated. She has seen it before, briefly when one of Tim’s former partners passed away, but this is different.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Lucy offers.

“No,” Tim replies immediately.

Lucy nods before her phone chimes. It only makes noise when another cop contacts her, and she rushes to read the message.

“Tim, Nolan said he needs us to meet them. He just said they’re trapped and it’s really dangerous,” she relays.

“Let’s go.”

Tim runs through the station to reach his shop, and his mind races with every step. Tim lost you last night, but he refuses to lose you forever. If – when you both get to the other side of this, Tim will give you the apology you deserve, he tells himself. And he will never be in this position again.

“Why aren’t you doing anything?” Nolan asks over the nearby gunfire.

You’re a bad cop, Tim says in your mind.

“I- I don’t know what to do, Nolan,” you admit. “I can’t do this.”

Nolan’s eyes widen. He knew you were acting differently, but your sudden and complete lack of confidence shocks him. Both of you are pinned in the corner of a warehouse, in danger of being tortured, executed, or some sick combination of worse things. You know you need to act, but your pride and your abilities are shot, thanks to Tim. You’ll be lucky if you don’t get shot, too.

“You can do this,” Nolan assures you. “You have to. Whoever said-“

“Move!” you demand.

Nolan ducks, and you fire through a nearby doorway. It draws attention to you and Nolan, and your confidence takes another hit as three men aim rifles at your chest. The red dots form a perfect triangle around your heart. Things could have been so different if you had just gone home last night instead of giving into your never-ending craving for Tim’s comfort.

“Tim,” Angela calls when he and Lucy arrive. “You don’t want to go in there.”

“Yes, I do,” he replies.

She pushes a hand against his chest and shakes her head. Despite Tim’s grumbling, he trusts Angela as a friend and a fellow cop.

“What happened?” he asks softly.

Angela looks to her right, and Tim follows her line of sight. Your shop is standing wide open as CSU combs through it. The windshield is shattered, and the interior is riddled with bullet holes. Tim’s attention catches on the blood coating everything. No one could have survived that blood loss.

“Where is she?” Tim demands.

“We don’t know,” Angela admits. “She wasn’t here when we arrived. Neither was Nolan.”

“Let me help.”

Angela looks around before she whispers, “You’re too emotional.”

“She left me last night, Angela. It was all my fault, and I didn’t even get to apologize! So, I am helping, whether you want it or not.”

Angela nods as Lucy returns to Tim’s side. He looks back to your shop and knows. He knows he is too late. That realization changes everything.

“You’re right,” he tells Angela. “I’m too close; I shouldn’t help.”

“Timothy,” she begins.

“No, I- she’s gone. We both know that. And I can’t do this, not knowing that she died out here thinking that I didn’t love her. That I didn’t fight for her.”

“Let me know if that changes, Tim.”

Angela walks away to continue investigating the scene. Lucy lays her hand on Tim’s back to provide some comfort, but he shakes her hand off before he moves toward the shop. Crime doesn’t stop just because Tim’s world ends, and if throwing himself into his work will distract him, he’ll let it. But being busy and tired will never get between you and him again.

“Snipers,” Lucy whispers as she reads something on her phone.

“What about them?” Tim inquires.

“Oh, uh, just something Angela sent me.”

“About her?”

“Yeah.”

Tim nods, and his knuckles grow white as he grips the steering wheel. “There were snipers?”

“Three of them, from what they can tell. A gun left behind matched the ballistics of the bullets in her shop. It seems like… like someone was executed in her shop.”

“Let’s take another call, Chen.”

Lucy nods and requests dispatch to begin sending them calls again. The first is a bank robbery in process, and Tim only hopes that adrenaline and devastation mix well.

“Gun!” Lucy yells before ducking behind the armored personnel carrier outside the bank.

Tim doesn’t hesitate to raise his arms and shoot. The sniper falls backward, and Tim wills his mind not to wonder how different things would be if he’d been with you instead of Nolan. Snipers took you from him, but this taste of retribution doesn’t help Tim. He walks away as soon as the bank is cleared. He wants to punch something, yell, cry, and maybe do it all at once, but it won’t bring you back. Nothing short of an apology that he can’t give will.

Tim sits on his couch in the dark because it’s as close to peace as he can get. If he closes his eyes too long, he sees you standing on the other side of the room, defending yourself from his emotional outburst. The argument was pointless, and you wanted to stop it, but Tim kept pushing. The more he thinks about it, the more he starts to turn his sadness into self-hatred because he acted like his father. He drops his head into his hands and asks himself why he allowed himself to be driven so far. Despite how he treated you and the horrible, untrue things he said, you told Tim you loved him. He loves you more than anything but didn’t return the sentiment in the heat of the moment. And now he never can.

“I love you,” Tim whispers now. “I’m so sorry.”

Someone knocks on his door, fast raps with no break between them. Tim rubs his face as he stands and walks around the couch-turned-fighting ring to answer it.

“Tim,” Angela says quickly. “We found something. We know where they were an hour ago.”

Tim looks over his shoulder to the cruiser at the end of his driveway. The lights are on, and Nyla is inside, ready to go.

“I wanted to extend the invite,” Angela adds.

Tim nods as he yanks his keys from the table by his door. He doesn’t bother to check if the door locks behind him as he races toward the car, toward you. Nyla drives quickly and parks outside an abandoned house less than fifteen minutes later. While Tim looks at the house, he sees someone move in the window.

“Somebody’s inside,” he alerts.

Nyla nods and instructs Tim to wait while she and Angela approach the house. Before they exit the car, the person walks out of the front door with their hands up. Tim throws the door open and sprints across the yard before anyone says anything.

“Nolan,” he calls.

“What happened here?” Nyla asks.

Her tone makes Tim look around, and he counts at least eight bodies in the front yard. Most are covered, and the desperation, dread, misery, and heartbreak churn in his stomach as he wonders if any of them are you.

“We walked into an ambush. She got one of them down, but we were cornered, surrounded. They dragged their ‘failure’ to the shop and finished him off before they brought us here.” After he explains, Nolan turns to Tim and says, “She asked me to give you this.”

He pulls a bloody piece of paper from his pocket and passes it to Tim, who accepts it wordlessly.

“Where…” is she? Tim wants to say, but he can’t finish the question.

“Uh, she’s inside,” Nolan answers.

Tim hears confirmation that you’re here and runs through the carnage-covered yard and house to find you. He grips the letter tightly as he navigates through the dark house. Tim stops when he sees your badge lying in a corner, and squats to retrieve it. It’s scuffed and bloody, but Tim can’t leave any piece of you behind. He tucks your letter into his pocket to hold your badge.

“Officer Bradford?”

Tim turns quickly and nearly trips over a bloody hammer. He would recognize that voice anywhere. When his eyes finish adjusting in the darkness, and he sees you slumped in the opposite corner, propped up behind the door, he crosses the room in the time it takes you to blink. Tim’s hands cup your face gently as he leans closer to you.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers.

“Save it,” you reply. “This isn’t over yet. He said he was coming back.”

“Where’d he go?” Tim asks, effortlessly switching back to cop mode.

You smile, and Tim swallows harshly as your injured lip splits and produces a fresh bead of blood. “To rob a bank. As if you weren’t busy enough, right?”

The sniper at the bank, Tim remembers. “He’s gone,” he says quickly. “We got him.”

“You got him?” you clarify.

Tim shakes his head, and you raise your hands to his sides as you lean toward him.

“I could never do this alone. I can’t do any of this without you.”

“Did you read my letter?”

Tim pulls the paper from his back pocket and shakes his head as he reads the two short sentences.

“I forgive you. I love you,” you say as Tim reads the same words.

“It won’t happen again,” Tim promises.

“It might. We have hard jobs, but we can get through it. Right?”

Tim’s reply is a careful kiss to your forehead before he yells for a paramedic. Nolan leads Angela and Nyla inside a moment later, and they enter the door beside you.

“You could’ve mentioned she was alive,” Tim tells Nolan.

“You ran in before I said, ‘she’d like to see your face first, considering she almost died and you were the only thing she talked about,’” Nolan answers.

“Shut up,” you and Tim say together.

“This is the thanks,” Nolan mumbles.

“Can I crash at your place?” you ask Tim. “Without the argument?”

“Wouldn’t let you go anywhere else. The best cop I know deserves some comfort.”

“I thought I was the best cop you knew,” Angela teases.

“I love you,” you tell Tim.

“I love you,” he answers. After he looks into your eyes and smiles, he yells, “Where is the ambulance?”