#the bar at this point is on the floor anon

[is-the-owl-video-cute]

Is there anyone you'd actually want to be president? /gen Can be anyone, doesn't have to be a politician or someone with big money.

Ethan is online? More like ethan is in office.

[lxnarphase]

PRETTY BITCHES LOVE ME ᯓ★

━━ ❝ SHE A BADDIE, SHE SHOWIN' HER PANTY! ❞ wc. 3.7k

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...synopsis : suguru is just as big of a show off as gojo, he's just more subtle about it. and he wants everyone in this damn club to know that you're his.

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...cw : blk!fem!reader x g. suguru, suggestive content, alcohol mention, exhibitionism, voyeurism (?), fingerfucking, public fingering, little bit of breeding kink and talks of knocking you up, lots of kissing, suguru really loves his girl, suguru can’t keep his hands to himself

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...lunar's note : suguru is just a slut for you i don't know what else to tell you. he's just as much as a mischievous little shit as gojo ! if you want to be tagged for the future posts, comment on the main post here ! enjoy baddies ❤︎ (also yes nonblack readers can read and reblog too, idk why some anons try to gatekeep)

suguru's so touchy with you, it's sweet.

he can't keep his hands off of you whenever you go out. the poor man feels like he might just die if he's not having some sort of physical contact with you the majority of the day.

it could be the grocery store on a late night snack run in matching pajama bottoms or like now, a long night at the club for some celebration.

neither one of you remembers what or who the part is for, the alcohol in your systems causing you to focus on one another. the rest of your group is busy on the dance floor or bar, leaving you and suguru to cuddle up to each other in the VIP area like the lovesick idiots the two of you are.

your sitting across his lap, one hand in his hair and the other holding his shoulder, rubbing random shapes and patterns into the fabric of his shirt. it's so unfair, he just smells so fucking good and looks so damn handsome. you genuinely can't look at anything but him. 

and he loves it so damn much.

"s'guruuu," you coo at him, nose smooshed against his cheek. if you could, you'd get even closer to him, but this would have to suffice for now. "you're so handsome tonight..." 

the corners of his mouth tilt up into a smug smirk as he chuckles, his hand sliding from your knee to your upper thigh, stroking the exposed skin. you're so soft, could you really blame him for wanting to touch you all the time? compared to you, suguru is way more sober and is just eating up all the attention you're giving him.

not just because he loves you, but that was a plus.

no, it's because people are watching.

his sharp purple eyes flicker up, meeting with the group of girls outside of the VIP area that keep looking his direction.

their eyes are filled with interest and want when they look at him, and he can't help but chuckle to himself.

suguru knows he's attractive. hell, he's reminded of it every morning by the way you shower him in kisses and praises as part of your morning routine, making sure he knows just how much you love him and his 'stupidly pretty face,' as you so elegantly put it.

but what makes him laugh is how they look at you with disdain and confusion, as if they can't understand why you're in his lap instead of them.

it's disgusting, really, for them to even have the slightest thought that they could replace you. they must be lying to themselves, he thinks as your lips start to press kisses against his cheek, the soft curls and coils of your hair tickling his cheek.

you're just so cute, so adorable, so gorgeous, so beautiful. you're his pretty little angel, and seeing women jealous of you just fills him with so much pride, knowing you have other women jealous of you.

if only they knew how badly you have him wrapped around your little finger. if you so much as asked, suguru wouldn't hesitate to beat the shit out of someone for you, wouldn't hesitate to kill for you...but thankfully, it never got to that point.

yet.

"hmm, you think i'm handsome?" he leans in, his breath warm against your neck as he nips your ear. "nah, you look so damn gorgeous, angel. you're stealing the spotlight from me t'night."

his fingers trace circles into your thigh, enjoying your little giggles and complaints of it tickling. it only makes him do it more, your laughs and giggles making his heart squeeze a little bit.

fuck, suguru really loves how your skin feels under his fingertips, soft and smooth. it's all he thinks about. he wants to touch you forever, wants to feel you every second of the day. you are just so warm and soft, nothing would ever compare to the feel of your skin.

pulling away from your ear, he sees that those girls are still there, looking at you and him. the smirk on his face falters a bit, and his gaze hardens.

man, he really doesn't like how they're looking at you.

it's so easy for him to tell they have no cursed energy, just mere humans that could never even hope to be on the same level as you. it would be so fucking easy to just...snap his fingers and have them gone in an instant.

you steal his attention away from them and the dark thoughts swirling in his head by tilting his head your way, and instantly, his gaze softens.

jesus, the things you do to this man.

"sugu? what's wrong, honey," you mumble, worry etched into your features. you cup his face, thumbs stroking his cheeks to get him to calm down. "you don't look happy..."

the feel of your hands on his face, paired with the sweet concern in your voice, it washes away all irritation in him instantly. suguru hums, his eyes sliding shut. and the soft look in your eyes...he's so whipped for you, it's sickening.

you're so warm...

"no, baby, nothing's wrong," he reassures you, his smooth voice a low rumble. if he could, he'd be purring incredibly loudly right now, nuzzling into your palms. just your touch is enough to make him melt.

"'m just thinkin' how lucky I am, havin' you all to myself like this. the prettiest girl in the world, and she's sitting in my lap...who knew i'd make it this far in life, hm?"

the low, purple lights of the club cast a soft glow on your face as your fluffy hair frames your face, and suguru sighs, looking at you like you were his everything. you are his everything.

a quick glance to the side and suguru takes note that those girls are still fucking there, looking at you both. instead of getting irritated again, suguru gets an idea.

with a smirk, his hand slides up further your thigh, his fingertips slipping under the hem of that pretty purple dress he bought you that contrasts against the dark color of your skin...so pretty.

"mm, babygirl, just looking at you is making me dizzy," suguru purrs, his gaze dipping to your lips before meeting your eyes again. "you know i love you right? an' that all i wanna do is show you off s' everyone knows how pretty you are, right?"

you know better.

you know better than to trust him when he starts making comments like this, when he starts cooing and praising you out of nowhere.

because you know that it means suguru is up to no damn good.

you still haven't forgiven him for making you squirt on his fingers while he was on the phone with nanami...even though it was kind of cute how nanami couldn't look you in the eye without blushing for about two weeks.

"mhm...i know, sugu, you're a little show off that likes to get us in trouble," you playfully scold, tugging his hair a little as you giggle, looking at him with a soft gaze.

suguru's head tilts back, and his eyes flutter shut for a moment, a soft grunt leaving him. he's always been a sucker for you pulling on his hair like that, likes when you tug him around to make a point...shit, he's getting hard just from thinking of all the times you'd use his hair to get his attention or make him focus on something.

and it doesn't take long for you to discover his thoughts are going south.

with an exasperated gasp, you feel the hardness of his arousal pressing against your ass, letting out a little scold of his name. his grip on you tightens when you shift to confirm your suspicions. his head leans to rest in the crook of your neck, a silent plea for more of your affection.

"but you like it when I show off," suguru teases back, pressing a kiss against your neck as your curls tickle his face again. even your hair was soft, it's like he's got his own little pillow pet in his lap. the thought makes him chuckle, knowing you'd probably swat at him playfully for comparing you to a plushy

"you get all worked up, it's so cute, angel...plus, i think y'like it when i cause trouble." his hand swaps thighs and creeps up higher under your dress, his fingers brushing the edge of your panties. he's playing a risky game. at any moment, someone could catch him and get you both kicked and banned from the club.

but where's the fun in life without taking risks?

"c'mooon, admit it, baby, you like it."

one glance up back into the crowd and suguru hums, his eyes glinting dangerously. still there, it seems.

they aren't staring as hard now, but looks of disbelief cross their face when his hand shamelessly goes right to the apex of your thighs, fingers running over the lace of your panties. suguru doesn't care anymore, if they wanna look so bad, he'll give them something to stare at.

"s-suguru...you're, mnh, gettin' close there..."

he doesn't give you a response, his hand sliding from your back up to your hair to keep your head in the crook of his neck. he may be fine with showing out a little bit to these bitches who tired to glare daggers into you, but no one except him gets to see your face.

the way your lashes flutter, the way your teeth dig into the plushness of your bottom lip...it's driving him crazy.

the faint scent of your perfume hits his nose, and he's gone. his cock is pressing against your ass in full hardness, and he has to stop himself from grinding up into you.

nah, right now, this is about you.

he's going to take care of you, going to make you feel good, going to make sure you know that you are his in every way that counts.

without wasting another moment, suguru's fingers slip under your panties, pausing when they touch the faint wetness gathering at your slit.

"fuck...baby, don't tell me you've been like this the whole night," he rasps, his breathing slowly starting to pick up. your soft cunt is hot to the touch, sticky and wet as he drags his fingers through your slick.

"i can't help it, you just...look, really good t'night, baby," you huff into his ear, gasping a moan when he doesn't hesitate to slip a finger into your slick hole.

he really does look good tonight, dressed in those black dress pants, sleek dress shoes, and that stupidly hot black button-up shirt. and he has the sleeves rolled up and the top few buttons undone so that you can get a nice view of that necklace with your name on it resting on his collarbone.

how can you not get soaking wet?

"shit." he's groaning, the sensation of you nuzzling your face into his neck to press little open-mouthed kisses into all the sensitive spots of his neck sending a shiver down his spine. it's so sweet and precious how you try your hardest not to make too much noise and not move too much as he stirs up your cunt with just one of his fingers.

he wishes you both were back at home, wishes that he had you spread open on the bed so that he can see how wet he's got you just from his attire, so that he can hear your pussy squelch around his fingers. not even the strongest in the world would be able to pull him from your pussy whenever you get this wet.

the thought of gojo trying to pull him away from you makes him cringe a bit...because he knows damn well that idiot would be shoving his face deeper into your cunt, grinning as he practically makes suguru drown in you.

on second thought, that's not a bad way to go....

another tug to his hair as him unintentionally groaning, eyes snapping shut at the sharp pang of pleasured pain that shoots up his spine. his attention is back on you, his face close to yours as he breathes against your ear.

if you want his attention, then he'll give you all of it with no hesitation.

"suguruu, more...please," you finally whine, the slow movement not enough for you. it's almost torture; the slow in and out motions of his finger making you feel good but not good enough. no, you need more, craved it.

"yeah? you gonna be a good girl f' your suguru and let him take care of this needy lil' pussy? hm?" one finger turns into two, and that familiar heat pools in your lower abdomen. now it's feeling so fucking good that you already know his fingers are gonna be coated in your juices.

this should be embarrassing, it really should. you both are in a club for fucksake! but you can't find it in you to care about it, his thick digits working your cunt so good that your brain is just melting.

one of your hands grips his button-up, fisting in the fabric to ground yourself from the pleasure. "m-mhm! I'll be good, I'll be s' good for you, sugu, promise!" suguru is becoming relentless, determined to make you crack and stop hiding those pretty sounds from him when he takes note of how you go right back to biting your lip after giving him that sweet, needy response.

however, he loves seeing your lips all swollen, knowing they were like that because he made you feel so good you had to force yourself to be quiet.

"sweetheart, don' hide it, lemme hear you, 's just you and me," he whispers to you, his other hand burying itself in your curls and giving a little tug. he knows it's not just the both of you, but right now, in this moment, it's all that exists for him.

the harsh pull of your hair has your lips brushing against his ear and choking on a moan, unable to keep it in. "thaaaat's it, let me hear how good it feels t' have these fingers buried deep inside this tight cunt."

you hate this, hate when he talks because it only makes you wetter. and that means he's gonna talk even more, and you're always right because he's cooing at how much slick is pouring out of you now, asking if it's because of his voice or his fingers.

suguru's so fucking annoying, such an asshole, but you can't help but let him get away with it when it means he makes your eyes flutter closed in pleasure.

you let him get away with way too much, don't you?

the song playing now is so loud, the bass making the ground vibrate. but suguru doesn't care, he's just thankful it's loud enough to cover that fucking beautiful moan you give him when he curls his fingers juuuust right.

"oooh, there? did i find it? fuck, baby, y'got so tight jus' from that."

your desperate nod of confirmation is all he needs before he speeds up his fingers, groaning when he can finally hear the wet schlicks of his hand coaxing more slick out of you.

one more glance up and suguru can't help but grin. the girls are gone, now mixed up in the crowd likely red and hot in the face.

seems like his impromptu little show finally got the message across: he is yours and yours only.

knowing he no longer had to show off, he's focusing on you, on you and that tight, needy little slit between your legs that's dripping down his wrist. it should be a crime for someone to be this wet, in public no less.

"c'mon, angel, don' hold back on me anymore, lemme know how it feels. wanna know 'm treating this gorgeous pussy good."

you let out the prettiest moan, breath hot against his ear. suguru coos, his hand not between your legs holding your neck to keep your head in the crook of his neck. “mhg, suguru, love it s' much, g-god, your fingers feel s'good, 's not fair.”

you can't stop yourself from trying to spread your legs more, giving him a bit better access. you know you can't open them too much ot someone might see.

but...would that be so bad? for people to see how suguru could make you fall apart so seamlessly?

if only you knew that's exactly what was running through his head right now. he's positive at least one person has caught on to what's happening, the repeating motions of his hand between your legs such a dead giveaway.

it thrills him, his cock throbbing in his pants at the thought. shit, he's learning things about himself he didn't know before...he might have to do this to you more often.

he leans in closer, his mouth grazing the sensitive skin of your neck, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine as he whispers, "y'gonna cum for me right here in this club, aren't you, babygirl? gonna show me how much you love my fingers playing with this slutty lil' pussy, right?"

he gets a sweet little 'yes, sugu' and he purrs your name, the mixture of your moans, the music, and the just barely audible sounds of your slickness being stirred by his thick fingers, making him feel drunk.

you're shaking in his lap, holding on for dear life as he makes it a point to curl his fingers with each thrust, not giving you a break anymore. you're spiraling, feeling the tremors of your impending orgasm building, your hot, gummy walls fluttering around his stupidly thick digits. you're praying silently between each pant and gasp, desperately hoping he doesn't make you squirt, not now, not when so many people are around—!

"c'mon, baby, c'mon," suguru encourages, his fingers picking up their pace. you're so close, he knows it, he knows because he can feel it coming. the way you fist his shirt, the way your hips are trying to hard to not rise up to meet his hand, knowing it would make it so obvious what's happening.

but suguru, oh, he stopped caring so fucking long ago. he just wants to feel you soak his fingers, wants to hear your muted little moan of his name when you finally cum. he just wants to make sure you know you're his.

"b-baby, suguru, shit, i'm gonna cum—!"

"yeah? that's it, baby, let got f'me, you can do it," he urges and coos, his voice bordering on needy and desperate, just like you. he's panting into your ear, whispering little praises as he listens to you pitifully try to keep your gasps and moans down. you're such a mess, it's so cute, you're so adorable, god, he loves you so bad.

your thick thighs are quivering and trembling as you teeter on the brink of release. you know it's going to be a mess, but you try, you try so hard to keep it in.

suguru notices—how could he not—and he's not having it, slipping a third finger inside your messy little cunt, curling deep inside right against that sweet spot, and that knot wound so tight inside you finally snaps.

"s-suguuuu, 'm cummin'—!"

he's reveling in how your hot, gummy walls squeeze and spasm all over his fingers, milking them for all they're worth as you cry and sob his name into his ear, tears caught on your eyelashes from how good it feels. he wishes he could look at you, wanting to drink up your expressions, but no, he'd be risking someone else seeing how pretty you are when you cum.

"yessss, good girl, good fuckin' girl, gimme everything, babygirl."

your cries of release are so damn sweet to his ears, and he continues to work you through it, ensuring your orgasm is as prolonged and intense as possible. if you were home, he wouldn't care about stopping or overstimulating, but he has to remind himself to stay calm and not go too hard.

if he did, he wasn't sure he'd be able to stop himself from fucking you on this couch in the middle of the VIP section in front of all these people.

once suguru feels you go slack in his arms and your hand weakly slap against his chest, he slows his hand, his own breaths heavy with the arousal and need you stirred in him...did you have any idea how sexy you were? if he wasn't as controlled as he was, he's positive he would've cum in his pants.

pulling his fingers out slowly, suguru's quick to pop them into his mouth, sucking off your juices like it would be the last time he'd ever get a last. fuck, you soaked his hand...he doesn't care how obvious he makes it when he licks at his palm and wrist to not miss a drop.

"hhmph, s-suguru, you—"

"i need you, right now. can i take you home?"

of course, he has to ask. he knows how long it took you to get ready, to look so fucking perfect. but right now, he doesn't want anyone to look at you. hell, he doesn't want anyone else but him to be near you, he'd fucking wipe out this entire club right now if you asked.

the soft touch of your hands on his face brings him back, making him melt as his eyes slide shut. you're so soft, he loves you so much, he needs to stick his cock into you while groaning those words into your ear, needs to feel his tip kiss that soft, spongy spot inside you that makes your back arch off the bed, to fold you in half as he stuffs you so full, praying that his cum gets stuck deep inside you, praying that it takes and that he gets you knocked up, and that—

"take me home, sugu, please, i-i need you s' bad."

your words have him acting in an instant he presses a quick kiss to your lips, licking whatever is left of your lipgloss before helping you stand up with him, guiding you out of the club. if he stays in here for any longer, he's not sure he'll be able to control himself.

"i got you, baby, don't worry, 'm gonna give you what you need. let's go, princess."

all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...lunar's tags : @satoruwiki @llllllllllllloser @screampied @abcdbleh @vicfuentesfangirl @sakurapeach @ohsuguru @crywolfix @naughtygobbo @aura88967 @jeanine-gt @tananaxx @tojancy @happymangosstuff @charming-chikara @actuallynarii @ninikrumbs @inette04 @paint-eater2 @haesify @shaguro

[im-ovulating]

Alright, here me out. CollageStoner!Sero and bookworm!reader having grown close and blah blah blah he's casually smoking while yn is reading, but she's reading a spicy book and the main Male character has a Jacob's ladder and now, she's straight up curious as to how sex would work/feel with that piercing, and how convenient is it that Sero just happens to have said piercing 🤔

(A/n: You're speaking my language, Anon)

(Sorry for the delay; this was supposed to be out the other night but tumblr decided to play with my feelings and sap my inspiration to write...)

(Not proofread)

@bigboomboi @neon-gothicc

Word Count: 3,078

Summary- It helps that you have *such* a helpful best friend.

Warnings: Weed, Non-established Relationship, We believe in Hispanic Sero in this household (<- not warnings, it was just funny that it was "Warnings: Weed")

Age Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Stoner! Sero x Fem! Reader: College Experimentation

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

You lounge against your bed, book in hand as Sero reclines against your pillows, joint in hand as he scrolls on his phone; there a haze of smoke filling the room, giving you a buzz. Neither of you speak, but it's a comfortable silence.

Your eyes dart across the pages as the main character's love interest backs her into a wall, his hand snaking its way to the hem of her shirt, his fingers dancing across the soft skin of her waist.

It's not until her hand is down his pants, tracing his length before coming to a stop at the feel of solid metal barbells that your head cocks to the side and you let out a soft, "huh…"

Sero glances up at the noise, peering over the mattress at your hunched over form. "Care to share, princessa?"

You blink, head shooting up with wide eyes as you quickly snap the book shut. Your head feels sick from the sudden movement; the secondhand high urging you to get your movements under control. "It's nothing."

Your cheeks burn as you try to gauge whether or not he was reading over your shoulder.

"Nothing, huh?" He braces his weight on his forearms so he can lean closer, the smoke of his joint curling around as your breaths disturb the air between you. "Then why did you close the book without this?" He holds your book mark up with two fingers, twirling it between his fingers before letting it flutter back down to the floor next to you.

"…" You're silent for a beat before you manage to mutter out, "I DNF'd it."

"You DNF'd it? After ranting to me just an hour ago about how much you loved it?"

He raises a brow at you. "C'mon, babes," you inhale sharply at the nickname, "When have I ever judged you for the dirty shit you read?"

He has a point, you regularly rant to him about the raunchy scenes in your books; why does it feel so different now that he's approaching you about it?

You meet his gaze before sighing in defeat. "Fine�� Fine! You win."

"Her love interest has his dick pierced and I was just thinking about what that would even feel like - surely that would be uncomfortable to for the partner, right?" It's a metal bar rubbing against some of the most sensitive skin on the body, it has to rip at you and hurt, there's no way it doesn't.

Staring at you, a slow smirk grows on Sero's face as he thinks about something.

With a huff you start to turn away, "See? You're judg-" "Want to find out?"

"What?" You blink, freezing in place.

"I said -" he takes a drag before dropping down enough that your noses almost touch. He grips your jaw in a steady hand to gently press his fingers into your cheeks to pry your lips open; he exhales it slowly from his mouth, forcing you to shotgun the smoke. "- It's your lucky day. Do you want to find out?"

He leans back up, propping himself against your pillows again with a hand behind his head, ever the picture of tranquility. He lets one bent leg fall to the side, showcasing the bulge in his sweats, extra bumps adorn the side of the print that you can see and your mind finally puts two and two together.

"You have it?" You ask, twisting your body to face him. "Why did I not know this?"

"You want updates on my dick?" He teases. "Okay, fine: update numero uno - I'm hard and would like to do something about it. Update dos - you're curious and can do something about it; let's solve each other's problem, yeah?"

Staring at him with your mouth slightly agape, you think it over.

On the one hand, you have been friends with Hanta long enough that he's seen you naked, so you know it wouldn't be that awkward - hell, you're lounging in just an oversized tee and underwear and it's been fine all night; on the other, though, this could break the easy-going friendship you've built.

"Any day now, princessa. I won't be offended if you say 'no'."

You know he's not lying; you've turned him down before - a very drunken night during hazing week - and he has never once made it awkward…

Deciding Schrodinger can suck it, you make your move. This cat is alive and is going to stay that way.

"Okay," you say, getting up to join him on the bed.

He places the joint between hip lips before reaching to pull you into his lap. "Atta girl…" He murmurs, eyes already lidded as his hand slide up your shirt to trace your sides.

He rolls his hips up and you can feel the multiple metal balls drag against you even through the fabric separating you.

"You sure it won't hurt?"

"Haven't had a girl complain yet," Sero smirks, pulling the joint from his lips and holding it to yours. "Take a hit and relax, Amor, I'll take care of you."

The smoke curls in your lungs as you take his offer. You hold it until you feel a cough coming before exhaling. The effects don't hit yet, but the forced deep breath settles you.

Feeling a bit more confident, you rock your own hips down, letting out a sigh at the friction.

"Do you have a condom?" You ask, bracing your hands on his stomach as you grind down harder. His head is leaned back, watching you dry hump him with blown pupils.

"Backpack, smallest pocket on the front," he instructs.

You quickly climb off of him, and lean off of the bed to find it. "You just keep these with you?" You tease, pulling out a sleeve of at least 7.

"Complaining?" Hanta asks with a lazy smile, dropping the roach into an empty soda can on your nightstand.

"No," You rip one off the end and make your way back to him, tossing it at him when close enough. "But I do think you're a whore, now." He hooks his thumbs under his waistband, ignoring your jab as he shimmies them down with his boxers until he can kick them off the bed, his shirt coming next. He brings the packet up to his mouth to rip the foil open with his teeth.

Just before he rolls the condom on, he glances at you, "You gonna strip or am I supposed to just rip your panties off?"

But you're not even listening to him, too busy taking in the nine neatly spaced bars that peak out from the underside of his penis. Just wide enough for the ball screws to be visible from the top.

"Impressive, right?" He jokes. You nod, breathing out a 'yeah' as you step closer. Kneeling on the bed, you reach out to touch the metal but stop just before you make contact.

"Can I?" You look up at him, hand hovering.

Hanta simply grabs your wrist, "I'm about to fuck you and you're asking if it's okay to touch my dick? Go for it, sweetness."

With that, he drags your hand closer until your fingertips graze him; he lets go so you can explore. You close your hand around him, running it up the length loosely, feeling how the bars gently shift with each pass. Sero's breathing gets heavier when you trace the bottom of his cock with your fingertip, feeling the little ridges of the metal beneath the skin.

You rotate one of the barbells to see how snug they are and suddenly he's yanking your hand away, startling you out of your stupor.

Thinking you hurt him, you rush to apologize but he's flipping you onto your back before you can even start. "Fucking tease…" he growls out, eyes dark as he stares down at your shocked form.

Hanta yanks your panties down your legs, barely stopping to admire the silvery strings that connect your cunt to the cotton before they snap. As soon as the offending material is across the room, he's all but ripping your shirt off as you laugh at his impatience.

He quickly rolls the almost-forgotten condom on and pushes into you in one go.

"Ah, fuck, you asshole!" You yelp, cutting off mid-laugh and shifting your hips to accommodate the intrusion.

"What are you gonna do about it?" He pulls back just enough to slam his cock into you, causing you to grip at his arms as you loose a strangled moan. "Nothing? That's what I thought," He smirks, sitting back to properly see you as he starts thrusting.

You can feel the solidity of the barbells pressing into your sensitive walls. It's a bit odd at first, but as he moves, the drag starts to become addictive; the thick bars adding a ridged texture even through the latex that has you basically panting under him, craving more and more of the delicious feeling.

"Feel good?" He teases. When you nod, he hums, "Told ya so~"

"Shuddup," you grumble.

It's when one of the bars catches and harshly drags against you as it snaps back into place that your eyes are rolling back and your back is arching, the most pornographic noise dripping from you as you shudder. Hanta freezes above you, face scrunching up as he lets out an animalistic growl that shoots straight to your cunt. "Fucking hell…"

"I-I'm sorry…" You don't know what caused the tug, but if you had to guess, it was probably from the way you're cunt is clenching around him, unforgiving.

"Don't be, I'm good" he huffs, recovering enough to resume his pace. "Just- try to relax, yeah? Can't fuck you if my dick's ripped." His joke isn't enough to ease your concern, though, and you shift a bit with uncertainty.

"Are you sure?" Your worry is taken out on your bottom lip until his thumb gently pulls it from your teeth.

"I wouldn't still be inside you if I wasn't," Sero reaches his other hand down to trace firm circles on your clit, "now c'mon, sweetness, relax for me so I can fuck this pretty pussy like it deserves."

"God-" You gasp, "-Stop.. *doing* that!"

Your hips jerk up despite your words, chasing the tantalizing pressure of his thumb as it continues to trace the bud. Tingles shoot through you almost painfully as you start to all but hump his hand and you swear you don't mean to knee him in the hip when he lightly pinches your clit. The muscles in your stomach start to tighten as your cunt pulses out a wave of arousal. The wet noises of his cock sliding home again and again echo with the roaring in your ears around your skull, creating a deafening crescendo.

You vaguely hear him growl out a "That's it- Open up for me..."

You're not sure when you loosened around him, but his thrusts have become fast and rough, crashing with a loud *slap* against your ass as your bed frame slams against the wall. You briefly think about the fact that your neighbor is definitely going to be filing a complaint against you with the Dean, but you can deal with that later, you decide.

"God, look at you, taking me so well, my pretty, pretty princessa..." He murmurs, nosing at your jaw. "Doing such a good job for me; taking this dick like you were made for it."

The pleasure fogs your rationale and with the added haze of the pot, you're uttering words you'll definitely regret in the morning.

"Kiss me," you gasp out, reaching for Hanta. This is supposed to be an impersonal fuck, but oh well; he's looking too good, hovering over you with that damn-near feral look in his eyes as he drinks in the way your pussy all but drags his cock back inside with each drive of his hips. Consequences be damned, you want his mouth on yours.

He apparently feels the same if the way he all but dives to slam his lips against yours in a frenzied, messy kiss. His tongue bullies its way into your mouth to tangle with yours, easily winning dominance and eagerly exploring its new terrain - tasting you thoroughly for all you have to offer.

Your head spins at the multiple sensations bombarding you.

HIs hand is still shoved between you, working you in a way that makes you feel like you're floating, slipping ever closer to release. the cloud fogging your mind is the only thing keeping you from tipping over the edge - time feels like it's slowed down just so the two of you can savor this for all it's worth and you can't tell if you're thankful or if you want to scream in frustration. The drag of his cock against your walls makes you want to live under him, stuck being his dumb little cocksleeve, especially with the way his piercings are caressing you in all the right places. Just when you think it can't feel any better than it does, one digs just a tad harder into you and it makes you reel, convinced you're going to go insane.

There's no way a couple pieces of steel are amplifying your pleasure this much - you refuse to believe it.

But believing or not, Hanta still has you writhing under him with your nails digging track down the smooth planes of his back. You're sure you've drawn blood on at least a couple of passes, but if he feels it, he doesn't let on.

Finally pulling away, you greedily suck in a lungful of oxygen, cursing when it makes your vision swim with black and purple spots.

God you're so close. You're so so close and - oh!

'Oh, that's deep...' you think, stunned at the way he reaches impossibly deeper into your soaked cunt when he tosses your leg over his shoulder. Hanta stretches you to your max as he dips down to suck marks into the column of your neck, his free hand stops holding him up as he drags it to your throat, angling your head to the side so he can suck and bite on more of the delicate skin. His weight presses you into the mattress as he stops rubbing on your clit in favor of gripping your hip and dragging you down with each roll of his hips, forcing you to meet him thrust for thrust.

"Hanta-" You whine out, chest heaving from exertion. "I'm, oh god, I'm close... Hanta, please- Please, I wanna cum!"

You know you sound like a cock-drunk whore, but if that's what it takes to finally cream all over his godly cock, so be it.

"Yeah?" He pants, a drop of sweat rolling down the sharp angle of his jaw. It lingers for a second before dripping onto your chest; it rolls down your sternum, curving around the mound of your breast. "Then cum for me, sweetness. Let me see how good this dick is making you feel." His voice is gravelly as he holds your gaze.

You try to look away if only for your own sanity, but he slips his hand up, holding you in place. "Eyes on me, baby..."

It's all way too much, way too fast and you can feel yourself spiraling - the devastating pace of his thrusts, the almost harsh grip he has on your jaw, the intensity with which he watches your every reaction. You can feel the high coming. You can feel yourself becoming Icarus, but unlike he, you're so ready for the crash; almost begging for your waxed wings to melt so you can feel the rush of the fall.

The sun blazes, getting hotter and hotter; you can feel the scorching rays beat down on you as the hot wax starts to drip, burning into your flesh as you reach the extent of your high. And all at once, your wings break apart and the roaring sea rages in your ears as you cum.

"Oh fuck..." You rasp as your nails dig even deeper into his skin, finally drawing a hiss of pain from Hanta.

"That's it, sweetness, there's a good girl..." He grunts out between clenched teeth as you clamp down in him in a vice. "God-" he growls, hips frantically thrusting into you as he chases his own high; he finds it not long after, burying his cock into you as he fills the condom with his spend.

His head hangs between his shoulders as you both catch your breath. "Fuck, you feel so good, babes," He huffs after a while; looking up at you through his damp bangs, he gives you a shit-eating smirk, "Might have to do this more often~"

"Don't go falling for me just yet, Sero" You chuff with no venom, staring at your ceiling as your heart calms down.

He starts to pull out of you, causing you to hiss at the sudden emptiness. Hanta removes the condom, tying it off and just barely making it when he shoots it at your deskside trashcan.

"One sec," he says, getting off the bed with a soft grunt and heading to your bathroom. After a bit of rummaging and the sound of your sink running, he slips back towards you with a damp wash cloth in hand. "I'mma need you to spread those sexy-ass legs for me one more time, Princessa." He only laughs when you chuck a pillow at him, gripping your ankles to drag you down the bed and spreading them himself.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm oh-so awful and your new nemesis," Hanta mumbles at your protests, lightly wiping away the sweat and cum from between your thighs. "Betcha feel better now, though." He tosses the cloth at your face, making you let out an indignant scream.

He can't help but cackle at your reaction, head tossing back as his deep rumble echos through the room. "It's your own fluids??" He lets out his own screech when you chuck it as his own face. "Now that's just nasty!" He tries to dodge it, laughing. It lands on the ground with a wet thud and he finally climbs back onto your bed - well, he jumps over you, landing on his back before dragging you into his side.

"You never answered me about doin' this again," he mumbles into your hair, chuckling at your answering chest smack.

"...definitely..."

[signedkoko]

Could I get a Mammon, Vox and Husk with a S/O who gets harassed on the street and their reaction? You can have full creative control over what type of harassment!

I love your fics- if this isn’t getting the creative juices flowing just let me know and I’ll request something different <3

🦷 anon

Husk | Mammon | Vox [Romantic]

In which some loathsome idiot thinks they'll get away with harassing their beloved s/o.

One of your favourite date nights is spent bar hopping

Pop a drink or two in each one, sometimes sharing one cocktail, his wing draped around you, your head leant on his shoulder, humming to the music surrounding you

Both of you had a preference for the less popular spots, the kinds of places you got the weirdest combinations, where he could be inspired and you could give him thoughts

The plus side of the smaller joints was that the music was never too loud, drinks were cheaper, and there was always a few spots free at the bar

Downside was that most places had their regulars, the kind of people who couldn't get in anywhere else

The kind of desperation that builds and spreads like mold in the corner of a dark room next to a leaky pipe

On a few occasions, someone would harmlessly ask to buy you a drink and would turn tail when Husk gave them his usually 'fuck off' look

But this time, the guy would just not get the hint

" What? Already claimed dibs on the bitch? "

Yeah- no, that attitude towards you is not going to fly

Not even three seconds and there's a bottle smashed on the drunk demons head, and three cards flying back into Husk's hand

That's when the bleeding starts

You slap a 20 down for your bill and jump straight up, already being dragged by Husk out the door

Insists if he stayed there you would have both gotten banned anyways, and he likes that spot

You guys don't really go out so casually without a good reason, or just for old times sake

A sin and his spouse on a city street in greed was just asking for bad things to happen

But still, if you asked and he had nothing that day, Mammon would always rather get quality time with you and people watch

Thats most of your conversation, pointing out demons and joking about what you think they are like, what the do, how they speak

It's always a fun game, until some newcomer saw you laughing at him and marched right up, clearly on something and clearly ready to have a go at someone

The moment he reaches for your wrist, his thumb falls to the floor, a messy and jagged cut the only sign of attack besides one of Mammons spider legs now revealed

Before he can even realize the pain or what's happened, Mammon lets out a menacing laugh

" Every extra inch towards my broad is another finger. "

That demon was already screaming and running away, most the crowd on the street that was watching now hurrying in any direction opposite of you and Mammon

" I'm only worth one finger? "

" Nah. Just being generous for once. "

Not really a street guy, but unfortunately some press conferences and events require mingling and interacting with others, which he never liked

Thankfully, with you he has an excuse to stay away from others, or show you off

He usually goes for the latter

He's all 'Have you met my wife?' 'My wife loves x and y!' 'Isn't my wife absolutely gorgeous?'

You are the first topic he speaks of after his company; you'd be the first if he didn't have to waste so much time being a salesman, but that is how the cookie crumbles

Sometimes when there's specific press releases, he has to send you off for a moment, where you usually go and mingle with some of the others in his industry you befriended

During one such interview, he couldn't help but spot out the corner of his eye, some lousy business woman drape her arm around your waist and grab at your hip

" Sorry yeah, this interview is over. "

Literally shoves his way over, sparks and electricity flying, to rip you out of her arms

" Baaabe, is this a friend? Whatever the case, we really gotta get going! "

Jealousy 3000

He's glad he stepped in after he overhears that lady had a habit of harassing other attendees

New clause in every interview; they have to include you or provide security over you while he is busy

Author's Note - Tooth anon comes in for another PIPIN HOT request!! I actually feel so bad because every time I take a break form writing is on yoru request and that really makes it look bad I am so sorry 😩

[girllblogging777]

𝑀𝐼𝐷𝑁𝐼𝐺𝐻𝑇 𝑅𝐸𝑉𝐸𝐿𝐴𝑇𝐼𝑂𝑁𝑆

↳ frenemies mattheo riddle x fem!reader (drabble)

↳ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡 : 0,7k

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦 : mattheo enjoys teasing the overachiever girl, until she lets him see her wild side (anon request)

✩✩✩✩

the sound of your footsteps echoed through the dark, empty hallways of hogwarts. you were making your way back from a late-night study session in the library, with your arms full of books, and eyelids heavy with exhaustion. your overachiever nature had kept you there for hours, to the point where the words on the pages started to blur. tired as you were, you didn’t notice the tall figure approaching.

“and what are you doing, wandering the hallways after curfew?” a familiar voice called out, a hint of amusement in it. you couldn’t see his face clearly, but the dark energy and broad shoulders told you exactly who it was. mattheo riddle. you two had been partnered in potions a few months back, and now he seemed to think it was his job to bother you whenever he pleased.

you tried to sound confident, but your exhaustion made your voice come out weaker than you intended. “none of your business, riddle,” you said, pausing for a moment before adding, “i was studying for the history of magic exam. now, can you leave me alone?” but mattheo didn’t move, instead, his eyes shamelessly scanned you from head to toe, his expression unreadable.

“studying this late at night?” he asked, though it wasn’t a question. he knew well enough how serious you were about your studies, always at the top of the class, not just in your house, but probably in all of them. “yeah,” you shrugged, trying to act like it was no big deal.

he looked you over again for a few seconds, then smirked, muttering, “good girl.” his words, paired with that devilish grin, sent a strange thrill through you, making your knees feel weak. it wasn’t just the exhaustion this time. your mind went blank, and all you could do was nod before turning and walking away. but as you did, you couldn’t ignore the warmth spreading through your cheeks and lower stomach : you liked being praised.

✩✩✩✩

that same feeling hit you again a couple of weeks later when you got an a+ on the history of magic essay you’d studied so hard for. you were sitting in potions next to your infamous curly-haired partner, still buzzing from your grade, when mattheo’s voice cut through your thoughts.

“so, what’d you get in history of magic?” he asked, his eyes genuinely interested as they met yours.

you tried to play it cool, shrugging as you whispered back, “oh, i got an A.” he nodded, like he expected that answer. of course, he did. everyone knew you always got good grades—the only person who ever doubted it was you.

“there’s a party friday night in the slytherin common room,” he said casually, “you coming? after all that studying, you deserve a reward.” the bell rang before you could answer, and as you packed up your things, you finally replied, “i’ll think about it.” with that, you turned and left the classroom, not without hearing the words “atta girl” leaving his mouth in a whisper.

✩✩✩✩

that friday night, the slytherin common room was alive with music and laughter. people were either dancing wildly or getting drunk by the bar, the atmosphere electric. you were stretched out confidently on a sofa with your friends, head back as you laughed at their jokes. at one point, one of them handed you a cigarette, and you took it, inhaling slowly and leaving a lipstick mark on the filter. what you didn’t notice was mattheo, watching you from across the room, his jaw practically on the floor. he’d expected you to show up, but he hadn’t expected to see you enjoying yourself this much. when he saw you exhale a cloud of smoke, he was practically drooling.

a couple of hours later, feeling a buzz from the alcohol, you decided to get up and dance. the stress of exam week was long gone as you began to sway your hips to the music with your friends. mattheo barely had time to react before he saw you climb onto a table, flipping your hair and grinding against one of your friends. “what. the actual. fuck,” he muttered, his words slurred from the drinks. his friends overheard and chuckled, “yeah, man, looks like your good girl is the life of the party tonight.”

the night in the slytherin common room was wild, and you were the center of it all, dancing without a care. the music and drinks had you feeling more free than you had in weeks.

you could feel mattheo’s eyes on you the whole time. his usual smirk was gone, replaced with something like fascination. after a while, you made your way over to him, heart pounding.

“what’s wrong, riddle?” you teased, leaning close. “cat got your tongue?” he stared at you, voice low when he finally spoke. “didn’t know you had this side to you.”

“there’s a lot you don’t know about me,” you replied with a smile. he just watched you, clearly intrigued, as you turned and walked away, knowing this wouldn’t be the last time he’d see this side of you. “merlin, this girl is gonna be the death of me…”

✩✩✩✩

a/n : this is my first time writing based of a request, but they’re now open so send me some ideas !!! please like/comment/reblog (and i promise part 4 of “untouchable” will be here soon)

tell me if you wanna be in the tag list xx

@elsie-bells @reys-letters @tateshifts @redeemingvillains @myunperfektstorys @enyway @icantkeepmyplantsalive @shiftingwithmars @mattheosdior @deadghosy @larmesdevanille @moonlightreader649 @fbvreadingblog @iris-qt @fluffycookies22 @yikesitslush @bellatrix-lestrange5 @jolly4holly

[bearambles]

ARUGUMENT FIC W HAMZAH PLEASE like gets into an argument and you need to cool off and leave and he won’t let you jus angst 👅👅

jealous

(hamzahthefantastic)

words: 1.9k

warnings: established relationship, angst, arguing, swearing, hamzah is kinda a pos, happy ending

note: i hope this is what you were hoping for! i could also 100% write a part 2. also, i think another anon recently requested an argument fic, so there might be another one coming bc it was honestly fun to write. love u all, more fics coming soon

hamzah is driving you insane.

he’s usually not the “jealous type”, but for some reason, today is different. he’s grumpy and pissy and you think you know why.

last night you had gone out to dinner with a few friends from your old school. you weren’t out late, and the group was only about ten people, but to his dismay, your ex boyfriend was one of them.

you told him about it as soon as you knew, and he was pretty passive as soon as he heard. still, he didn’t make too big of a deal, even when you wore your skimpy little outfit to the bar. after all, it was high school. besides, he trusts you.

that was until he saw the pictures. your exs hand on your waist. the way he’s next to you in the group photo. it all really pisses him the fuck off, and even when you swear to him it meant nothing and the guy didn’t mean it, he wasn’t so sure.

“y/n, you see this guy after like five years, you look fine as fuck wearing that tiny fucking skirt, and you think he won’t be into you?”

you scoff, your chest now rising and falling. you really never pegged hamzah as the type of guy to act like this. yet here he was, standing in your bedroom, a few feet away from you with his arms crossed over his chest.

you’d crawled into bed last night to him asleep, and the two of you had been completely fine until this morning. he woke up to see your friend post on instagram about the night prior. he scrolled through her photos before finding the ones of the whole group.

“okay, so it’s my fault if he was?”

“i didn’t say that.”

“you meant it though!” you run your fingers through your hair, frustrated. “listen, i already told you it was nothing. but if it wasn’t, if he was interested, it doesn’t matter, because im dating you.”

he smiles tightly and shakes his head, the bridge of his nose between his finger and thumb.

“sure. okay. yeah.”

“you think i’d cheat?”

you stare at him, your blood pressure rising. you can’t believe the way he’s acting. the shit he’s implying you’d do.

“i never fucking said that, y/n. i’m just saying he was touchy, and you won’t admit it.”

“it was one fucking photo! he happened to be next to me! where did you want him to put his hands?”

“anywhere else! not your waist! it’s fucking weird!”

“so you’re mad at me because of the way a guy acted towards me.” you say, sitting down on your bed and mimicking his move of crossing his arms. “that’s really fucking progressive of you.”

“oh my god, you know that’s not true. jesus christ. i’m not mad, im just fucking annoyed. and i don’t like how you acted either.”

“how did i act hamzah. you weren’t even fucking there.” you start to feel tears prick your eyes. you hate crying in front of him, you rarely do. but this was so frustrating, listening to him accuse you when you only love him.

“i still saw.” he mumbles, clearly losing what he was trying to say in the first place. he’s just spitballing stuff at this point.

he isn’t even looking at you any more. his eyes meet the floor and he’s breathing so hard you can hear it just barely. he’s close enough to where you could reach out to his arm and pull him on top of you. you won’t though.

“saw what? my tiny skirt?” you laugh, baffled. “just leave me alone.” you can feel some of the tears start to fall.

he looks up at you when he hears your voice break. his eyes soften their gaze but he stays where he’s standing. it’s silent for a moment before you speak again.

“go away, hamzah.” you say, moving your position to lay down, your face turned away from him.

“no. i wanna talk.”

you’re silent.

“y/n-“

“i said go away.” you mumble between sobs.

you’re stiff for a long moment before you hear him sigh. he turns and leaves your room, and you wait till you hear the door click before really letting yourself sob.

you’d dealt with this in the past - controlling relationships where anything you did around any ex was considered suspicious. in fact, you almost didn’t go last night. but you’d wanted to catch up with your old friends. if it was up to you, you wouldn’t have had your ex there either. he was a total jerk back in the day. but he was, and it was fine. you’d barely spoken outside of taking that group picture.

you don’t want to fight with hamzah. he’s your person. but the way he’s acting is scary.

eventually you decide you need some air. you get dressed, throw on some makeup, and head out the door. you don’t know where you’re going, but you know it needs to be away from here. away from him.

he jumps up from the couch and catches your wrist right before you can turn the knob. you whip your head around, and meet his eyes. he looks just as pissed as before.

“where are you going?” he asks, still gripping you hard

“what, do i need your permission to leave the fucking house now?” you bite back, wriggling our arm free, “get off me. i’ll be back later.”

he starts to protest, but you slam the door before you hear any of it. if you had any fucks left to give, youd tear up again. at this point though, you’ve had enough. if he wanted to be like this, you weren’t gonna entertain it.

the city’s relatively walkable, so that’s what you do. there’s plenty of stuff to do around the area. retail therapy, you think. whatever makes you forget about this argument for a while.

-

it’s late when you walk home. later than the night before, and later than you’d ever been out without calling. you and hamzah had one another’s location, so really, he could see anytime where you were. which was the outdoor mall, and then the local bar. you’d only had a few drinks, but you were there for a good two hours. just talking and talking to the bartender. you guys are friends, and she was a good listener. so she listened.

“he’s just being so mean. and like, he’s never mean. sometimes we argue and stuff, but it’s always over stupid stuff, you know? and like, we make up super quick. but he’s like, so mad at me. and i swear to god, i didn’t even do anything.”

“it’s his first real relationship, right?” she asks, while pouring a drink

“yeah. i guess maybe that’s why. i just like, never thought he’d be like this. all jealous.”

“i think most guys are, honestly. or at least, the insecure ones. either way though, he shouldn’t be acting that way. i’m glad you got out to clear your head.”

you nod and take a sip. you’re tipsy, you realize. it actually feels pretty nice though. letting loose to someone like this. you should be talking to hamzah, but he doesn’t seem to want to listen. you sigh and shake your head like it’ll clear the thoughts away.

when you walk through the door, the house is silent. it’s nearly one am, so you assume at first that hamzah fell asleep. that is until you’re going to hang your jacket up and hear him open the bedroom door. you press your eyes closed, ready for the reprimanding.

“you scared the shit out of me.”

you turn around to face him, and his eyebrows are knit together. he’s in the doorway, his arms crossed and his back against the doorframe. he chews at his lip.

“sorry.” you mumble, going to take your shoes off.

“sorry?” he scoffs, uncrossing his arms and using them as he speaks, “you were out for hours, y/n!”

“i told you i’d be back later.” you don’t look at him, don’t step forward. you stand there, your arms pressed against our chest, holding yourself tight.

“that’s all i get then? not even a text? what the fuck, y/n.” his nostrils flare as he talks, and he starts moving closer to you. “I had no idea if you were safe! you could have gotten fucking killed.”

you laugh, moving your head back like you can’t believe what he’s saying. though honestly - he’s right. the city can be sketchy, especially at night. you seldom went on walks without him this late. especially drunk. which, he hasn’t seemed to notice you are yet.

“killed? come on.”

“don’t act like that’s crazy to say. the streets are dangerous. you know that!” he’s in your face now, motioning with his hands. “seriously, y/n, what the fuck.”

you flinch as he raises his hands in exclamation.

“so you’re mad again, great.” before you know it, you’re crying again.

you hold yourself tighter as tears start to fall. you feel like a little kid, just standing there helpless. the drinks are really getting you now.

hamzah is silent for a minute as you sob. he stands so close to you, but doesn’t dare move. when you finally look up at him, his gaze has softened and his hands are in his pockets. he reaches out slowly to brush your hair out of your face, looking at you like he’s waiting for protest. instead, you lean into his hand on your cheek.

he stares at you for a moment and you can’t tell how he feels. his eyes scan your features, landing on your lips, which are quivering just slightly. after a few moments of just looking at one another, he puts his arms out, offering a hug.

you fall against his chest and start sobbing all over again.

he rubs circles into your back absent-mindly, whispering little “shhs”. you don’t even thin of how angry you were today. how mean he was. you just cry and let him hold you. he pulls you two apart and goes to hold your face in his palms.

“how much did you drink,baby? " he asks, wiping a tear.

“not that much. just like, a few.”

“a few what?”

“mmm seltzers?” you say, more of a question than an answer.

he sighs.

“okay. well, i think you should go to bed, yeah?”

your eyes scan his face, searching for whatever emotion he’s hiding. surely he’s still angry. you hold onto both his arms while you speak.

“hamzah.”

“yeah?”

“i don’t like my high school boyfriend.”

“i know.”

he presses his eyes shut tight. his chest rises and falls slowly and before you can argue that he clearly doesn’t know, he speaks again.

“i was gonna apologize when you got home.”

“but now you’re mad again.” you say, pouting

“not about that. and i’m not mad, y/n, i was worried. you were gone for five hours without a text or anything.”

“m’sorry.” you mumble, pressing your head against his chest again.

“let’s go to bed, okay?”

he strokes your hair as you breath in his scent. he’s warm, and it hits you how tired you are. Ou nod softly against him and before you know it, he’s picking you up and carrying you to bed. giggling, you land with a plop. he joins you and holds you tight.

“we can talk more tomorrow, yeah. you deserve a better apology but i have a feeling you won’t remember much of it if i tell you now.”

you nod, scooting back to press your back against his chest. he kisses your shoulder. you fall asleep.

-

i hope you guys enjoyed >.< requests are open

[pathologicalreid]

could you do a third part to buried alive where the reader finally gets a bit better and goes out into the field for the first time and then the team goes and gets drinks after bc they are so proud of her :) -🌱

back again | S.R.

part one | part two

in which you go back into the field (and kick ass)

who? spencer reid x fem!BAU!reader

category? angst and then fluff

content warnings: established relationship. PTSD undertones. guns and physical fighting. reader is paired with morgan and kicks ass. usual cm case stuff. going to a bar and alcohol consumption. use of 'ass'. reader is referred to as a girl.

word count: 1.8k

a/n: hey anon i love you!!! i never expected people to like this story so much, but im so grateful i hope you enjoy!! thanks for reading <3 don't forget to like and reblog <3333333333

It felt good. Standing outside of a suspect's house with Morgan felt normal to you, having your firearm holstered, felt right.

He was trying to get ahold of the team, but the two of you were far from the town and, apparently, cell service. “The call keeps dropping, but they know where we are. They should be on their way,” he told you, getting out of the car. “If you’re uncomfortable going in, you don’t have to.”

You rolled your eyes and got out of the SUV. “I’ve got your back,” you responded self-assuredly. It was your first case back in the field, and besides, you weren’t about to let Derek walk into the lion's den alone.

Despite your attempt at confidence, you hadn’t planned on going to a suspect's house. The two of you had been on your way back from talking to a victim’s family, meaning you didn’t have vests. “I know you do,” Morgan confirmed, removing his sunglasses and snapping the temples down. “Go around back, I’ll take the front,” he said.

Nodding, you unholstered your weapon and kept it pointed toward the ground, you took a deep breath before wrapping around the white farmhouse.

Paranoid thoughts pelted your brain. Did you remember to shut off your phone’s ringer? What if the suspect had a gun? What if the information you were given was wrong and you didn’t have probable cause?

You shook your head, peeking in through the open blinds, you saw the kitchen. The town you were in was on the smaller side, and the only thing that surrounded you was farmland. You saw movement out of the corner of your eye and wished you had been given more time to prepare, having comms right now would be remarkably helpful.

Approaching the back door, you leaned against the siding before reaching over and turning the doorknob. It was already unlocked, which could either be a good thing or a bad thing. You swung the door open and stepped inside the house, pointing your Glock around the kitchen, you saw Morgan entering the living room in your peripheral vision. “Clear!” You called out, and shortly after, Morgan called the same.

Once you had cleared the main floor, Morgan moved upstairs and you moved downstairs, pulling your flashlight from your belt, you pointed it down the steps.

“Jackson Fike this is the FBI,” you called, making yourself known. You reached the bottom of the stairs, just to see another door, wide open. “Damn it,” you cursed, “Morgan, he’s running!” You shouted, hoping your voice would be able to carry up two flights of stairs.

You pocketed your flashlight and took off running out the door. Distantly, you saw a man fitting the suspect's description sprinting towards the woods. Without a second thought, you followed, expecting Derek to be not far behind you.

Thankfully, it was still light outside, the scent of the damp earth filled your senses, but it didn’t overwhelm you. You wouldn’t let it.

You skidded to a halt in the forest, keeping your back to a tree so you could be attacked from behind, “Jackson Fike, you can’t keep running like this. You know as well as I do that the road ends here.” You spoke loudly, hoping he heard you from wherever he had disappeared into the woods.

His choices here boiled down to giving himself up or being on the run for the rest of his life. Based on the profile the team had put together, he would never be able to leave this town. Not by choice, at least.

The snap of a twig gave his location away, you twisted your body in the direction of the noise. Your ears perked up like a bloodhound. “Jackson, if you come with me and tell me where the girls are, maybe I could see about keeping you close to home. Close to your house, that’s what’s important, right?” You tried to negotiate with him. You didn’t know if he was armed, but you did know that suicide by cop wasn’t in his profile. It was also less paperwork if you cuffed him without a fight.

“You can’t make me that promise, agent,” he responded. His voice was gravelly despite only being in his late thirties. “Why would I negotiate with a fed when I could just kill one instead?” He asked.

His question sent a chill down your spine all the way down to where your handcuffs rested on your back. “You’re right,” you ceded, “You’d be worshipped in prison for killing a fed, but why take that chance?”

In a flash, the UnSub smacked your wrist, causing a misfire into the trees, and making your weapon hit the ground.

That was fine, your marksmanship was good enough to pass your qualifications, but hand-to-hand was where you really excelled. He charged at you, but you jumped out of the way.

Closer to the farmhouse you heard voices, but you didn’t let yourself get distracted. Instead, you used your one boxing lesson with JJ and kicked. The inside of your foot provided enough surface to daze your opponent, he stumbled around, and you made sure to keep both of your feet firmly planted to the ground.

He swung back, but you ducked just in time to feel the breeze of his swing against your face. In response, you swung back, hitting him across the face.

Jackson retaliated, using both hands to push you into a tree, crushing your shoulder but not doing anything to stop you from throwing another hit, striking him on the head, and causing him to fall to the ground. He groaned as you crouched down and pulled your cuffs out, fastening them around his wrists.

As you read him his rights, the local police and the rest of your team approached you. Emily looked at you warily, Spencer was searching for injuries, but Morgan was grinning. He was like a giddy little kid who had heard the ice cream truck turn on his street.

Handing off the UnSub to a local, you eyed Morgan suspiciously, “What are you smiling at?” You asked, rotating your shoulder in a failed attempt to make it feel better.

“You took that guy down,” Derek said, gesturing to where the police officer was now taking the UnSub.

Confused, you shrugged, “Yeah, and?”

He laughed again, “Oh, you are so back, pretty girl.”

A flight later, you were hunched over takedown paperwork, something you certainly hadn’t missed during your time away from the field. At the desk adjacent to yours, Spencer was flipping through a book, waiting for you so you could go home.

After initialing each page and signing the last one, you placed the papers into the confidential file. Going up the stairs to Hotch’s office, you knocked on the door, “Come in.”

You stepped into the office and reached over to hand him the file, “My takedown paperwork for Jackson Fike.”

He nodded, the stern look on his face fading as he looked at you, “You did impressive work today, Y/L/N. By taking the initiative to arrest Fike, you saved the three girls he had captive.”

Shrugging, you fiddled with his nameplate, “I just did what felt right.”

“Other agents would’ve shot him, and it would’ve been justified, but you didn’t,” Hotch said, raising his eyebrows. “It’s good to see you out in the field again,” he told you in that fatherly, parental tone of his.

You looked out the window of his office, “It’s good to be back out, sir.” Watching as the rest of the team gathered back into the bullpen, “I thought everyone had already left?”

Hotch set your file down and stood from his desk, “I believe they were all waiting for you in Garcia’s office.”

Confused, you walked outside of the office and down the steps, “Hey?” You said cautiously, looking around at everyone, “What’s going on?” You looked at Spencer, but he just shrugged like he didn’t know any more than you did.

“We,” Derek said, “are going to O’Keefe’s,” he said, grinning as you reached over your desk to grab your bag and your coat.

Shoving your arms through the sleeves of your coat, you looked at the team curiously, “I’m getting the sense that I don’t have much of a choice in this outing.”

Grinning, Penelope excitedly walked towards you, looping her arm through yours and leading you out of the bullpen, “you don’t!”

You laughed, looking back at Spencer, who was just smiling at you. It wasn’t in your nature to turn down what Emily called ‘team bonding’, so the lot of you went to the familiar bar, a place you hadn’t been in nearly four months.

At the same table as always, standing room only with the eight of you, Rossi paid for all of your preferred drinks. Something you had learned to not protest over the years, as long as he was there, he’d never let you pay for your drinks.

Casually, Spencer had his arm around your waist, the two of you were more affectionate outside of the office. “How’s your shoulder?” He asked, gently skimming the pad of his thumb over the sensitive skin. Naturally, Spencer didn’t say anything in front of the team when you mentioned being shoved into a tree, but behind closed doors, he had asked to take a look at it.

You hummed in response, leaning into his touch, “Better, just bruised a bit.”

He dropped his hand back down to your waist, “good,” he whispered, ducking his head, and pressing a kiss to your cheek, causing you to smile.

Grabbing your attention, Derek cleared his throat and raised his glass in your general direction. “Tonight is about you, pretty girl,” he said, causing everyone else to turn to you. Your cheeks burned, “not only did you kick some UnSub ass, but you threw yourself back into the field after months on the sidelines.”

At your side, Spencer squeezed your hip, you were grinning like a fool.

“It has been an honor to be able to watch you reclaim yourself. I, for one, am proud of that accomplishment,” Morgan continued. “I hope you’re proud of yourself, too.”

You nodded enthusiastically, “Thank you. All of you, really.” You reached forward where everyone was clinking their glasses before taking a sip. Setting your glass down, you turned and looked at Spencer, “I love you,” you whispered to him.

He dropped a kiss to your lips, earning a whoop from Garcia. When he pulled away, he smiled at you softly, “I love you too.”

[r4spb3rr13s]

i saw the news :( however i have come to re-enter! So my mcbling angel, could we pretty please get a part 3 of meet mcbling hotties with maybe shigiraki, sabi, maybe a little twice, maaaybe a little gentle criminal.... i luv u and ur my bae as well cutie >3<

- 🍥 anon

villains meeting their mcbling gf

♱ shigaraki, twice

♱ pt.1 here pt.2 here

notes: dabi is in part one!! also this may be ooc 😔 and sorry bby but i have no clue how to write gentle criminal 😓

Tomura is in his usual spot, staring the TV down with enough rage to burn holes in the screen. Naturally, it’s because All Might is on screen. Like always.

The bar is in a low hum, filled with smoke from Dabi’s refusal to step out to huff on his cigarette. Spinner and Toga are playing cards, and her giggles bounce off the walls. Other than that, it’s fairly quiet.

Until the door creaks open. Then it’s silent.

And there… you stood. Awkwardly.

Tomura’s head snapped towards you with a sickening crunch resounding through the air. Any words he had reering up are stuck in his throat, though.

The light is shaping you like an angel. A very promiscuous angel, that is. A tight, pink dress hugs your curves and the platform wedges you have on accentuate every step your fake-tanned legs take.

“Uh… Himiko?”

Said girl squeals, and her chair scratches across the floor like nails on a chalkboard as she jumps up. Tomura watches as she runs up to you and wraps you in a hug.

“What the fuck…” Dabi trails off, eyes pointed at Tomura. Everyone is looking at Tomura, trying to gage his reaction. It snaps him out of his stupor.

“Toga, who is this?” He rasps out, pointing a lazy knuckle at you. His eyes barely flit over you, but when they do, you see a small bit of pink blossom on his pale face.

It’s weirdly cute.

Himiko squeezes you so hard you think she might suffocate you to death. I mean, you wouldn’t put it past her, but still.

“This is Y/n!!”

She is met with blank stares.

You roll your eyes and shrug her off, making her pout. Taking a cautious step forward, you catch Tomura’s eye - you know exactly who he is.

You’ve admired him for a while, and the League, in silence. You’ve been on chat rooms with a false IP address, watched their dark-web videos, heard their lackeys talking in the darker parts of town.

Himiko found you when you were talking to one of the lackeys, and surprise, surprise, took a liking to you. She gushed about the League, and weirdly…

You wanted in.

You strode forward, ignoring the room’s eyes on you - you were just focused on Tomura Shigaraki.

He watched you with stiff, darting red eyes. It was like he couldn’t decide where to rest his eyes - everytime he moved his gaze, there was your soft, glowy skin or something pink or patterned or your soft hair-

“Y/n L/n,” You said and held your hand out.

Tomura watched your hand as he leant on his own hand. His lip curled and you faltered. But, he fished out a thick-lined glove, slipped it on, and grabbed your hand.

His eyes fell on yours as your hands shook. The pink on his face was almost the same colour as your dress, and his cracked lip twitched.

“I’m here to join, by the way.” You clarify, heat rising to your own cheeks.

Your hand is still in his. Tomura notices and drops you like a hot pan, quickly looking away. He mutters a small, ‘okay’ and notions for a pen from Kurogiri - another member you’re familiar with.

Tomura scribbled something down with his thick glove on, muttering under his breath in a raspy, crisp voice. The sound cuts through the thick air and makes the hair on the back of your neck.

He stops writing and holds out the paper to you. It’s… a number. You almost facepalm.

You cock a brow, and Tomura goes pink again, but refuses to look at you.

He clears his throat, itching his neck absent mindedly. “I’m busy now. Call me later and we’ll talk about your membership.”

:::

Jin is tired. Spent. Exhausted. Fatigued. He’s practically swaying on his feet as he breathes in the smoke from his cigarette. He nods at Dabi as he walks past and enters the dingy bar.

If he could just close his eyes-

A loud whistle rings through the air, and for a startling moment, Jin thinks he’s getting hit on by the builders across the street. Until you come into view.

Your confident stride falters and he watched with an open jaw as you pause to scream at the men in hi-vis.

There’s a small, douchey part of him that can’t even blame them - you’re gorgeous!

Your tattered denim shorts sit low on your hips, and the majority of your torso is on show in the low light of dusk. A small, pink tube top is wrapped around your chest, and big jewellery jangled with every finger you jab as you scream.

Your verbal assault on the builders finally halts when they let out a hurried apology and decide to get back to work. With a sigh, you push your hair out of your face and move on.

Well, you would if there wasn’t another guy in your way.

He’s tall, muscular and blond, with eyebags that rivalled the purple of your velvet bag. The smoke from the cigarette in between his fingers is curling around his neck like a choker, and brought stark attention to his agape mouth. You scoff.

“What? Want your turn?”

“Yes please- no, no thanks-” He barks out, then covers his mouth. Pink spreads across his cheeks from under his hand, and you cock a brow.

“…Yes or no?”

“Yes-no-”

The poor guy seemed torn. He was muttering to himself now, back rigid and face pink. It was… endearing in a way.

You cast a short glance back to the builders, and Jin takes the moment to drink in the size of the silver hoops hung either side of your face. He could probably fit his hand through them, they’re so big. Or-

“Listen, you’re cute… so I’ll give you number,” You mutter and take a short step towards him. Your sparkly eyes search his face, and he curtly nods, still as pink as bubblegum. “Okay, just, if they ask, I was giving you directions.”

Again, he nods. Like a well behaved dog, you think.

The poor man is left in a mental battle watching you leave. He does know for sure, though, the paper clutched in his hand with your number on is becoming his most sacred possession.

:::

notes: THIS SHIT IS NOT PROOFREAD IM SORRY 😭

taglist: @marzkqx @aespie @itzlittlemissperfect @im-so-tired-sorry @mangalovesanime-blog @livingmydreamlife5555

[corvidae-00]

Joost Klein x drunk!reader in the club🎉🎉🥳 (but she’s like messy drunk and probably needs to be cut off)

A/n: MY FIRST REQUEST 😭😭 THANK YOU ANON! I had tons of fun writing this for you! I hope you like it 😭

CW: weed, drinking, throwing up, swearing, clubbing, LET ME KNOW IF I MISS ANYTHING!!!!!

Word count: 1,297

Getting drunk was something that wasn't the norm for you, not that you didn't drink but you always were lenient at getting DRUNK. But it was a good night, Your boyfriend and his group had just finished a concert that went super well and with adrenaline and energy still high everyone decided the night club was a good location to let loose and enjoy the rest of the night while its young. You of course decided to let loose a little- just a little tonight seeing as your boyfriend Joost was so ecstatic and you had so much energy from being in the crowd who was loud and very very expressive tonight. The club was surprisingly packed and that just added to the excitement even more. “We are going to have a good night, yes?’ your boyfriend whispered into your ear leaning down and kissing your cheek with a smile “of course” you reach back to run your fingers through his hair that was still damp from the many water bottles he had poured over himself to cool down. He shudders and sighs into your ear before standing up and stretching a little looking over at his friends and back over at you sliding you his card from his wallet “Get yourself something to drink- i might lay off the alcohol tonight-” he thinks to himself deciding a few cigarettes and maybe a joint or two sounded a lot better than getting drunk and dealing with a hangover ontop of exhaustion the next morning “then come meet us over there-” he points over at a little less crowded part of the club “maybe me and you can test the dance floor” Joost winks leaning down to kiss both your cheeks which you accepted before catching his lips in a quick kiss “Ill be over in a second” You hummed “Save me a seat-” you requested stepping back towards the crowded bar. Joost smirks and pats his thigh with a wink “you always have one if you ask” He purrs and you can feel your face flush before waving him off “go sit down” You chuckle before turning on your heel going towards the bar ignoring the cat call your boyfriend sends your way but you cant ignore the small smile and a laugh making its way up your throat.

You dont actually know what happened. One drink turned into two before you could stop and then three- you knew you were supposed to go back to meet up with Joost and your friend but the drink you randomly picked out was just- so good- and before you could even step away you had finished the glass and got another. Clearly the alcohol in the drink was a lot stronger than what you were used too as you began to get fuzzy and eager for the next drink- the bartender not realizing how quickly your tolerance was dwindling- and you were also admittedly not aware of how quickly your once steady standing turned unsteady and how quickly vomiting sounded pretty nice, on your 8th glass you ended up leaning on the counter to support yourself drunkenly singing along to the fast paced dutch song blasting out of the stereos at the head of the club- the people around you joining in on your own little concert you didn't even realize was pretty loud. Ordering another drink unable to even lift your arm without feeling tingly or nauseous you felt a hand grab your shoulder “I have a boyfriend you fuck-” You whip your head around and look at the chest that greets you “Ugh men-” You slur and look up at concerned blue eyes “ shit schat- your fucking hammered” Joost mutters smelling the sweet alcoholic drink on your breath “How much did you have?” he questions a little worried as you blink and then giggle a little “You are so hot-” you mutter falling into his arms a little “how did i bag a beauty like youuuu~” you giggle running your fingers over his shoulders and Joost wraps his arms around your waist to support your unsteady weight “so warm” You flutter your eyelashes at him closing your eyes and humming in content “You are drunk” Joost hums smiling down at you a little “How did you get so drunk- i leave you alone for a few minutes” He raises a brow not an ounce of anger or disappointment in his voice- if anything he is amused- you dont ever get drunk so what was different today? Joost reaches behind you grabbing your half drank beverage and taking a swig surprised at the intensity of the Alcohol count “Holy shit-” He blinks and looks down at you “i didnt know you were that hardcore” He laughs dodging your hands which are now trying to touch his face in sheer admiration “it’s nuuthing” you giggle out running your fingers through his hair “mmsoft” you chuckle letting Joost gently pull you away from the bar after confirming with the tender the bill was payed not worried about the expenses. Joost tugs you along letting you drag your feet every now and again not too worried about how heavy you were as you werent heavy at all to him, just a cute bundle of drunken mumblings and yelling at women who even look at Joost- threatening to fight them outside even if you couldnt stand by yourself- your threats or reasonings for being mad not even making sense and thus causing your blonde boyfriend to sheepishly wave and look down at you with slight amusement. Once outside Joost lets you get some fresh air, the club too stuffy and heavy to even think straight let alone feel better after getting hammered. “I dont feel good” you finally slur out hanging your head in defeat “i dont doubt it mijn liefje” he whispers to you rubbing your back before quickly pulling your hair up letting you throw up the insane amount of alcohol in your body. Joost winces and rubs your back with his free hand. You blink slowly once you are able to stand up straight, “Ugh” you groan out holding your head and Joost takes out some napkins he had in his back pocket to wipe your mouth and shake his head “we should get you back to the apartment” Joost offers and you pout “But the night is still younggg” you whine and joost takes your arm wrapping it over his shoulders careful to lean down so he doesnt hurt or stretch your arm out “theres always another night” He hums to you and starts leading you away towards your shared home careful and slow listening to your slurred complaints and compliments mixed in always something about how wonderful his hair looks or how special he is to her.

When they get home Joost is quick to lay you down in the bed and get your shoes off and changing your flimsy drunk figure into a pair of soft pajamas. He kisses your cheek and laughs softly “you are so cute” He admits standing up straight “No you are” You retaliate looking up at him and giggling. Joost quickly leaves the room and comes back with a glass of cold water and sets it down on the night stand before climbing into bed with you discarding his shirt and scooping you towards him. “Feeling any better?” he questions running his fingers through your hair “jus a lil” you mumble snuggling yourself into him the room spinning slightly “Thats okay, ill take care of you tomorrow” Joost hums leaning over and turning the lamp off “Just take it easy” He kisses your forehead “and next time there is alcohol im monitoring you” He jokes laughing at your groans of disagreement

Dutch meaning: schat- babe. Mijn liefje- my darling

A/n: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE LOVE ON MY FIRST JOOST FIC!!! Keep the requests coming!!! I love writing for this man

[saberlight1]

exes and oh’s — billy the kid

pairing: billy bonney x fem!reader

warnings: mentions of violence, Y/N usage, established relationship, possessive!billy, arguments, standard billy the kid warnings.

authors note: im starting to think i have a problem.. 3 fics in one day lmfao. this one was based off of this request— thank you anon. i hope you all enjoy this one <33

masterlist

Ever since the day Billy had asked you to be his, he had thought the constant bugging of men around you would come to an end. But it seemed to be that the Bonney man only noticed those men’s stares towards you even more.

He sat at the bar you currently worked as he watched yet another man eye you from the corner of the room. It made his blood boil, his knuckles turning white from the harsh grip on his shot glass.

“Baby, leave the glass alone.” You teased with that charming smile that made him weak in the knees. “It ain’t done nun’ to ya,”

He put it down, your soft southern accent making his anger simmer down in a instant. “Sorry, honey.”

“What’s got you starin’ daggers over there?” You re-poured his now empty glass with whiskey.

“Them men starin’ at you.” His eyes darkened as he looked at you through his brows, his fingertips circling the rim of the shot glass.

Your tongue darted out across your bottom lip at his admission, his words making a deep want towards your outlaw settle in your gut knowing how protective he was of you.

“They can look all they want, darlin’.” You tried to ease his anger with a gentle voice. “You’re the only one that I’d ever let touch me—you know that.”

“It’s not you I don’t trust.” He murmurs as he leans back, his eyes boring into yours.

“Hey, foxy..” One of the men he was talking about now stood in front of you, slurring his words. “You’re mighty fine, mind if we.. talk somewhere privately?” He winked, making you want to throw up. “I’d love to see how you look under them fine clothes of yours,”

You looked him up and down in disgust. “I’m alright, sir. Got someone else in mind for tonight,” You looked at Billy from the corner of your eye, your cowboy smirking up at you. You sighed as you went to grab the drunken man’s glass to refill—he was still a customer after all.

His grueling grip caught your wrist before you could even grab the glass—almost pulling you over the bar.

“You little bitch, can’t take a real man, huh?” He spat as you let out a yelp, trying to get out of his grasp.

“Back the fuck off.” Billy’s menacing figure appeared from beside the man, throwing the man back by his shoulder, causing him to fall on his ass.

He groaned, but was back on his feet within seconds. “The fuck it mean to you, huh? I wan’ her, so she’s mine.”

The second the man finished his sentence, Billy’s fast fist made contact with his jaw hard, the man being back to his spot on the floor. “Don’t you ever fuckin’ say those words about her.” He hissed, leaning down to place more punches to the man’s bloodied face. You watched in a mixture of horror and admiration—mostly admiration.

The man below him only let out a cackle in return. “Oh, I see. She’s your whore,” He spat blood into Billy’s face, and you swore the whole room stopped at his words.

Billy’s cocked back arm stopped at his words, and within seconds his pistol was pointed at the man’s forehead. “What did you just say?” He yelled. “I’ll fuckin’ kill you—”

You grabbed his forearm, pulling him back up. “Billy, please—” He turned to you, panting as you tried to calm that wild look in his eye. “That piece of shit ain’t worth it, c’mon, baby.” Your eyes flickered between his, and after a moment, he sighed before relenting and putting the gun away.

“Yeah, gotta get your bitch to sort out your favors—” The man continued to talk shit, but Billy cut him off with a swift kick to the ribs.

“Shut the fuck up.” Billy rasped out, looking down upon the man.

“C’mon,” You pulled his hand, taking him to the room in the back. You were glad it was around last call—the bar being mainly empty. You sat him down on some old crates before you turned to grab the spare med-kit you had hidden back there months prior.

Once you had everything ready, you held your hand out, signaling Billy to hand you his cut and bruised knuckles. He did, knowing better than to argue with you on the matter.

Your heart sank in your chest when you first saw them. “Billy, you’ve gotta stop gettin’ into fights over me.” You whispered, your eyes not leaving his hand.

His other hand reached out to angle your jaw so your eyes would met his. “Darlin’, I’m never gon’ stop fightin’ for you. You know that.” He shook his head with a smile. “He ain’t even get a lick in—I’m fine.”

“I know you can handle yourself.” You mutter in reply. “I just don’t like seein’ you hurt. Regardless of how bad—I don’t like it. Nor do I like watchin’ you put yourself in danger for me.” You retort with a pointed look.

His gaze lowered. “Now, lady, let’s not pretend you haven’t done the same. I’ve witnessed some pretty crazy cat fights after hours at the boardin’ house,” He teased, his hand now cupping your jaw.

You sighed, trying to fight back the smile that threatened to break free. “Jus’ please, be careful.”

“Always am.” He leaned forward to kiss the frown off your face, his hands sliding down your body in order to squeeze your hips.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, drawing him closer to your body as you smiled against his lips.

He pulled back, leaning his forehead onto yours. You both sat there for a couple of moments, enjoying the comfortable silence.

You placed one last kiss to his plump lips. “Alright, let me see that hand of yours.” You asked, and when he placed it into yours, you got to work. You disinfected and bandaged it to ensure it wouldn’t get an infection. “That should do it,” You whispered as you finished tying the cloth, leaning down to press a kiss to his knuckles. “Thank you for defendin’ me, honey.”

You swore that even in the darkness of the room you were currently in that you could see his cheeks turn a light shade of pink. “I’m always gon’ defend you, baby.” He whispered, pulling you up by your hand to place you in his lap, his arms slithering around you as he placed a kiss to your cheek. He went quiet for a moment before he turned to grab something. You looked at him questionably when you saw that glint in his eye.

He smirked as he placed his signature hat onto your head. “There.” He admired his work as he fixed your hair, styling it to compliment the hat. “That should tell all those fuckers that you’re mine.”

Your teeth sunk into his bottom lip at his words as your eyes flickered between his. “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” You whispered, the tip of his hat hitting his head as you leaned in to reconnect your lips again.

He didn’t mind—he thought it looked better on you anyways.

[eddies-ashtray]

Okay but: Eddie and fem!reader. Maybe they’re lab partners or friends or something, and Eddie has had a crush on reader FOREVER, so long that he’s just about given up on it being reciprocated. Like “I’ve come to terms with it, I’ll just pine from afar forever.” But one day reader just flat out says she likes him, or like “are you ever going to ask me out or????” and he is just absolutely floored.

Thank you for the request, anon! I hope you like what I came up with!

(Content: Lots of oblivious Eddie, a splash of oblivious reader, childhood bullying, pining Eddie, vague references to biology shit I know nothing about (sincerely, a humanities major), & a completely unnecessary backstory).

WC: 2.2k

♡*♡*♡

Eddie hadn’t always lived in Hawkins, Indiana with uncle Wayne. For his first few years, he lived with his mother and father in the city of Indianapolis. Then, when his mother passed away when Eddie was seven, and his father could no longer afford to live where they had always lived, they moved back to his fathers hometown of Hawkins. 

Eddie knew right away he disliked being the new kid at Hawkins Elementary. He knew no one and no one knew him, but they all knew each other. He felt like a zoo animal; something foreign and strange for the other kids to gawk at from a safe distance, but never someone to approach, never someone to play with at recess. He was ignored and simultaneously singled out and picked on constantly. 

One chilly October morning at first recess when the leaves had just begun to turn, Eddie perched on the swing in the playground, once again alone. As he stared into the damp sand beneath him, the grating sound of a familiar voice shouting took him off guard.

Instinctively, he looked up, small hands clutching the cool chain links of the swing and watched as Andy approached. He felt his stomach drop like it had when his mom took him to the fair and let him ride the kiddie coaster when he was five. 

“Get off the swing, it’s my turn now,” demanded Andy when he stopped in front of Eddie on the swing. 

“But…there are other swings,” Eddie said meekly, pointing to the other three swings to his left, gently swaying in the breeze. 

“Yeah, but you’re on my swing!” Andy argued. 

Eddie felt something else bubbling up inside him, different from the usual humiliation he felt when confronted with Andy or any of the others who saw him as an easy target. Something that quickened his breath and made his fists tighten on the chains.

“It’s not your swing!” Eddie argued back. This was the first time he had ever done so in his weeks at his new school. 

As soon as he’d said it, as soon as he’d let the anger bubble over, he regretted it. Because Andy took two steps forward and before Eddie could even process what was happening, Andy shoved Eddie off the swing. 

He fell into the sand with a thud, a dull ache immediately throbbing on his tailbone. And though he’d had worse injuries and the soft sand helped to break his fall, he still felt hot tears brim in his eyes and his bottom lip wobble as Andy cackled cruelly and took his seat on his swing. 

But before the tears could spill over and cause him further humiliation, a small hand came into view, one outstretched to him where he lay in the sand. The hand was attached to an arm, a body, a face which he had never seen before. This girl was not in his class, though she looked to be about his age.

Eddie didn’t trust the hand, worried this was going to be another cruel joke. So he continued to lay in the sand, unmoving. 

“C’mon, let’s go play over there,” she said, looking back at the play structure with the rusted monkey bars and silver metal slide. 

And because she just seemed like she wanted someone to play with, Eddie decided to trust her. So, he took her hand and she helped him up, both of them grunting with the effort of it.

“I’m Y/N, what’s your name?” The girl said as they walked away from the swings. 

“Eddie,” He sniffled. 

And, so, ever since you had shown him that small kindness, Eddie had been quite enamoured with you. Though you had not become close friends after that day, Eddie remained grateful for what you had done for him. You had shown him that he wasn’t alone and that people could be kind. 

Eventually, he found his people, but you always had a special place in his heart. 

 ***

About a decade later, Eddie finally, miraculously, gets paired with you in biology. After all these years of admiring from afar and (as much as he hates to admit it) pining after you, he finally had an excuse to talk to you, to get to know the very first person in Hawkins to ever show him kindness. 

“Hey, did you want to come over after school so we can finish filling out this worksheet? I know it’s not due until the end of next week, but if we get this done today, we can get to work on the final assignment,” You say, absentmindedly shuffling through weeks of notes and worksheets. 

But Eddie doesn’t hear what you’re saying despite the fact that his eyes are on you. That’s the problem, really. Of course, he loves the sound of your voice, is eager to listen to anything you have to say, thinks he could listen to you talk about all the different shades of white in the colour spectrum or the different types of bricks that there are for hours on end. 

But today, you wore a new lip gloss that made it nearly impossible for Eddie to focus on anything but the shiny pout of your lips. 

Finally, you look up from your assorted papers, your pretty eyes (God, you have such pretty eyes) connecting with his. 

“Eddie? You okay?” 

“Hm? Yeah, yeah. Totally…What were you saying?” He asks, head dipping lower so he can hear you over the din of the busy classroom. 

You lean in slightly, unconsciously, before you repeat yourself, and he can feel your soft breath on his skin. Eddie forces himself to suppress a shiver as goosebumps raise on his forearms. 

Yes, yes, he knows he’s pathetic; nearly sighing in satisfaction at the feeling of your breath on his skin. But inevitably, his feelings for you have only grown stronger since you became lab partners at the start of the term. But he doesn’t want to screw this up. And he has to admit, he feels silly for pining after you all these years, so he doesn’t want to confess his feelings, especially when he can’t be sure that you feel the same. He couldn’t face that all too familiar feeling of humiliation if you rejected him–which, in all honesty, he feels is fairly likely; you’re his polar opposite, you would look ridiculous together. 

So, he’s trying to convince himself he’s okay with just being friends. 

“Yeah, sounds good,” Eddie agrees to your plans. 

He inhales the scent of your strawberry shampoo as you shift away and neatly stack your papers together. 

Clearly, he is not. 

  ***

Somehow, Eddie has the great misfortune (and pleasure) of ending up doing your shared homework in your bedroom. He must be in hell. More to his true feelings though, he must be in heaven. 

He had assumed you would sit down at the kitchen table and get to work, but when Eddie began wandering in the direction of your kitchen, you called out to him.

“Where are you going?” 

“Oh,” Eddie says, turning to see you halfway up the shag carpet stairs. “I just thought we’d be working in the kitchen.” 

“My bedroom is better. C’mon,” You say, turning and continuing your trek up the stairs. And what can he do but follow?

But Eddie can’t imagine what you’d meant when you said your bedroom was ‘better’. Is sitting on your bed, your bare right thigh grazing his denim clad left one, better than sitting on separate chairs in your kitchen? In some ways (in fact, in many ways), this is definitely better. But it is definitely not better for his concentration. Or his sanity.  

“So, this one here,” You say, your shoulders brushing as you lean over his lap to point at the diagram on his worksheet. “Is the superior articular process, and this one is the inferior articular process.”

Eddie might pass out. 

He watches you as you scribble the words onto your worksheet in small print and proceeds to inscribe the same words onto his worksheet in the same place. 

He suffers through the afternoon, surrounded by artifacts of your life, dying to pick up every last trinket on your dresser and request a detailed history of the object, dying to unpin the photographs from your cork board and examine every last square inch of the image. He resists the urge to lean even further into you or to rest his head on your shoulder when he gets bored. He stops himself from staring as you pick out a cassette and begin swaying to the music as it croons from your cassette player. 

After all that suppressing and resisting, you finally conclude, “Alright, I guess we’re done.”

And Eddie swears that despite your chipper tone, your satisfaction with finishing the homework, there’s a hint of something else. Something akin to disappointment. But he couldn’t imagine why. 

He ignores it as he packs up his things, shoves his pens and his doodle-cluttered papers into his backpack. He ignores it as you walk down the stairs together. He ignores it as he laces his boots up. He ignores it as you open the door for him. And he ignores it as he says goodbye to you and walks out your front door. 

He only gets halfway down your driveway before he stops in his tracks at the sound of your voice. 

“Oh, for God’s sake, Eddie!” You shout. You don’t quite sound angry, more fondly exasperated than anything. 

This, he cannot ignore.

He spins around on his heels.

You’re strolling down your driveway towards him with determination.

You’re stopping in front of him, looking up at him, hands on your hips like you're about to admonish him for tracking mud in the house. 

He blinks. Once. Twice. Still not getting it as you stand in front of him in your frilly white socks without shoes. 

“Were you ever going to ask me?” You wonder genuinely, eyes searching his for answers he isn’t giving you. 

“Ask you what?” Eddie replies, genuinely perplexed. 

A soft smile creeps onto your face, like a reassuring realization is coming to you. 

“You really don’t know?” You ask softly. 

Eddie shakes his head. You look down at your socks for a moment before meeting his eyes again. 

“I wanted you to ask me out. Y’know…on a date?” You explain, swaying nervously, hands held sweetly behind your back.

Eddie’s lips part gently in shock, all his synapses firing at once. He cannot comprehend that his childhood crush–this girl who he’s been absolutely smitten with since he was seven–has just confirmed that she feels about him the same way he feels about her. 

“Eddie? You alright?” You ask, reaching out to place your hand on his bicep. He hadn’t known he needed steadying until your hand met his skin. 

With that touch, a sudden surge of confidence rises within him. 

His dimples pop into his cheeks as he grins. It’s not self-satisfied or cocky. How could it be? He never would have thought she would want to go out with him. 

His heart pounds against his chest as he says sincerely, “Just give me a time and place and I’ll be there.”

“What?” Now it’s your turn to be oblivious. 

“For our date,” Eddie replies simply, like he isn’t about to pass out asking the prettiest girl he’s ever seen on a date. 

For a moment, your eyes light up and then an embarrassed smile spreads across your face before you bury your face in your hands. Then they slide around to frame your face and you look up at him, clearly embarrassed about your lack of understanding. 

Nonetheless, you reply, “Friday, 7PM? Pick me up here? I don’t really care what we do, I-”

But you don’t complete the sentence. Instead, you glance at your socks again.

“You what?” Eddie wonders, dying to hear what you have to say. 

You meet his gaze again. “I just wanna see you.” 

Butterflies erupt in his belly. But he tries his best to keep his cool, to not squeal like a schoolgirl right now. That, he can save for later when you’re not standing in front of him, eyes shining in the setting sunlight. 

For now, Eddie gasps in faux flattery (though he really is quite flattered) and proceeds to fan himself with his hand, like a demure princess. “Well!” 

“Oh, shut up,” You say, lightly shoving his shoulder. “I had us doing homework in my bed and you still didn’t get it!” 

Eddie laughs softly at your willingness to tease him back and his face flushes at the reminder of his obliviousness. 

“In my defence, that’s pretty damn subtle,” Eddie quips and you roll your eyes fondly. 

“Just pick me up on Friday, you idiot!” You shout as you begin making your way back towards your house. 

“See you Friday,” Eddie confirms, shouldering his backpack as he watches you walk back inside and he starts slowly walking backwards down your driveway. He’s still watching before you shut the door, nearly in disbelief that any of this actually just happened, that you’re even real. 

You wave as he reaches the end of your driveway. He waves back. 

Eddie starts planning your date on his walk home and by the time he gets back to the trailer, he knows exactly what you’re going to do this Friday. 

♡*♡*♡

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[lundenloves]

OMG OMG OMG HEAR ME OUT PLEASE! What if Simon/Ghost comes back home from deployment and is really stressed, annoyed and angry from a mission. He’s left alone with his oldest daughter in the house and has this horrible fight with his oldest daughter and I mean like screaming because the oldest daughter can’t find her shirt and he refuses to help until finally she blurts “I hate you” to him out of the heat of the fight…CAN THIS SOMEHOW END WITH MAJOR FLUFF BETWEEN THE TWO?! If it’s too much just ignore me❤️❤️ Thank you, I love your work🤭🤭

{✧} hello beautiful anon, you have seemingly given me life? banged this out in around an hour. if it seems like it only took an hour, please ignore that or i’ll drown myself in a loch. hope i’ve done your ask justice? thank you for asking for angst, that’s probably why it got done so fast 💀

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↳ no warnings | 1.2k | dad!simon

It was quiet in the house. Just quiet enough for Simon to process what had just happened in the last 48 hours — yet not quiet enough for his ears to ring from constant gunfire. It was a happy medium, alone bar his oldest who jogged up and downstairs at record paces. Flipping the living room upside down, and the pile of clean washing on the bottom stair was tossed to the floor in a desperate attempt to find her shirt. 

He was sitting on the sofa, head leant back, eyes shut only to hear her scuffling around. “Where’s my shirt?” She penetrated his happy silence, stood in front of him with arms dropped to her sides in a teenage palava. “Where did you put it?” 

Simon gave her a noise between a sigh and a hum, craning his neck to look up at her. “What?” He unintentionally spat, his normal tone of voice as sharp as ever. “I ‘aven’t touched your shirt.” Eyes locked to the pile of recently ironed clothes tossed to the floor by the stairs. “They’ll be in that fucking pile you’ve chucked around and walked past ten times.” 

“Well, they’re obviously not.” She groaned. 

Simon shrugged, standing up to stack this morning’s breakfast dishes. “What do you want me to do?” He shook his head at her, taking the plates to the kitchen with her trailing behind him. “I can’t magic it, can I? It’ll be wherever you’ve left it.” 

“It’s not. That’s the point. You’ve moved it.” She had genetically taken his frown, sporting it straight back to him when he had turned around to take something from the table. 

“Oh, have I?” He mumbled nonchalantly, loading the dishes into the sink with loud clatters. “Get those mugs from your room.” 

“No, I'm looking for the shirt.” Her tone matched his, stubbornly kicking her foot against the chair leg to get his attention. “Can you check mum's stuff?” 

“You can.” He turned around, a dish towel balled between his hands with a nod toward the stairs. 

Simon's moods were hard to distinguish. The primary reason being: he always seemed to be in some sort of disparity. So even when he’d come back from a particularly challenging mission, one that had asked too much from him or went horrifically wrong, he would almost always be the same as he usually was. Blunt, sarcastic and seemingly uncaring. 

You had learned to tell the difference but your daughters knew none the wiser. Leading to unknowingly provoking yet valid questions like, “What is wrong with you.” 

“Nothing. Get the mugs.” 

“You never help with shit.” She scoffed, turning on her heel to stomp upstairs and Simon’s jaw ticked. Head tilted to the side, palms leaning either side of the sink with a step back to hang his head between his shoulders. 

Having a teenage girl was the route of many headaches for Simon. Not particularly because of her, but for the natural way where everything revolves around them for an extended amount of years. Everything is embarrassing, if not first regarded as useless. And as far as Simon was concerned he fell somewhere between the two in her radar. 

“Don’t start with that.” He’d said once she had slammed the mugs down on the table behind him, his back was still toward her. 

“Well it’s fucking—“

“I mean it.” 

“It’s true you’re never here!” She shrilled. “You never do anything, you’re always angry and never help.” A beat. “You don’t even talk to us, dad.” She paused, undoubtedly eyeing him for any sort of reaction. “It’s fucked, you’re fucked.”

He turned to take the mugs, eyes avoiding hers although his jaw was tense. “And you can’t even have a conversation.” She laughed though it held no comedy. “You’ll just snap like you always do.” 

“I snap because it’s hard to switch between work and home— here.” He turned around, his daughter shying from his broad frame and low voice. Refraining from asking about Simon’s work was the one thing you had instructed all three of your kids not to do. Although, naturally it became a target point for arguments with him. A real low blow, the best and most critical hit you could land on him was his absence from home due to work. 

Bonus points if you added all he had missed, the first steps, the first words. It was a lot. But it was not there to be thrown back in his face, not as often as it was anyway. “You don’t even want to be here.” 

He shifted in his position, placing hands behind his head at her confrontation. “All of this because of that shirt.” His words directly combated hers, hitting them backward and stopping them from landing anywhere near him. Effectively avoiding her statement. 

“When’s the last time you hugged me, dad?” She said calmly yet loudly, metaphorically shattering glass over his head. 

It had been weeks, months at worst. 

His silence was telling, hands dropped down to his sides in defeat. As usual, he couldn’t find the words so she had jumped for her turn and jab one more time.

“I hate you. I hate you for that, so bad.” It came as a whisper and by that point, the kitchen had fallen quiet too. Occasional sniffs and the rubbing of the odd tear turned her face red, Simon cleared his throat. 

It only highlighted her point in that he stood still. Though, it wasn’t fair to point a finger and say it was his own fault he was that way, emotional warmth and touch just weren’t in his niche range of abilities. His thumb drew imperfect circles on the kitchen counter, staring at her with any and all outward apology he could muster. 

“I didn’t mean that.” She mumbled first, embarrassingly shifting her weight to the other foot while looking up to the ceiling, eyes darting left to right as if to hold back any more upset. She was a lot like Simon that way, although not at all. 

“I know.” He replied softly, taking a closing step toward her and placing his hand on the back of her head to pull her to his chest. “I don’t mean to be like this, you know that.” The silence made him look down to gain a nod in response, her gaze zoning out to the kitchen window as he smoothed out her hair. 

Simon was never good with words, so he always took to actions that felt even more foreign but they at least allowed for the substitution of his appeasements. “Sorry for swearing at you.” She mumbled, melting into his broad chest. 

“Someone has to put me in my place.” The vibration of the words rippled in his chest and she pulled back only to look down at the floor. “You’re a lot like me, you know.” He poked at her ribs, provoking an unwilling laugh that then turned into a smile. “A lot.” 

She shrugged, pushing his hands away after they had wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Yeah, alright.” Her frown was feigned.

“I promise you.” He turned to continue the dishes, looking back to her over his shoulder. “And your shirt is on the line.” He nodded out the window, watching as she gasped and ran outside like he had found gold. 

simon ‘ghost’ riley taglist: @vamppxncess @crowbird @misshoneypaper @tallrock35 @fluffmonster @islanderr @blueoorchid @lea3773 @coldflapjack @rayhawk05 @han11dh @liishook @melovetitties @fallonx @rvjaa @fuckmelifesucks @bhayatsara @takeomisbitch @local-spidey @konigsblog @penutjuice @babychoi03 @sheluvzeren @sparklingtragedy @maviee @wiserebelpartypie @daddylorianisastateofmind @bhayatsara @mistydeyes @writingmysanity @johfaam0 @idkjoequinn @gressseyy @fwibblefwobble @shibble @maladaptivedaydreamingbum @airghostlyfox @hotgirlsshareaccounts @simpxinnie @dilfdotgov

as always comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated! i’ll sit in a hole if no one pays me on the head every now and then.

this is unedited.

[megalony]

On His Way

Hello my lovelies, this is a new Tommy Kinard imagine, requested by anon. I had a lot of fun with this one and I hope you will all like it. Feedback is always appreciated.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra8484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @shelbygeek @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella

Tommy Kinard Masterlist

Summary: During a heatwave, (Y/n) tries to do her fair share at the station since she's on light duties. But when she passes out, the team have to call Tommy to come get her.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"What're you doing?"

A shudder ran down (Y/n)'s spine and she tilted her head to the left to look over at Tommy. His gruff morning voice sent shivers running down her spine and had her stomach doing summersaults.

Her teeth bit down on her lower lip as she moved her hands down on the mattress in a vain attempt to push herself up. But it didn't work so well when Tommy hooked his arm around her waist like an iron bar that stopped her from moving.

"I'm melting," (Y/n) murmured back, leaning over so she could nudge her nose against Tommy's cheek and steal a kiss from his lips.

She flopped her head back into the pillow and sighed. It wasn't often that either of them got up before their morning alarm, but this was different. There was a heatwave in the city. (Y/n) had never known the weather to be this sweltering and she hated it.

Being cold was perfect. It allowed everyone to wrap up in sweaters and jumpers and long coats and hats and gloves. Cold was good, it meant snuggling under a thick cover and burrowing down into cold bedsheets and sleeping comfortably.

Heatwaves meant minimal layers that felt ten degrees too hot. It meant sweating and getting rashes and burns and wanting to melt down into a puddle on the floor.

It meant a boiling hot bedroom, sweating through the sheets and wearing nothing to bed and having no covers but still feeling like the room was on fire.

(Y/n) hadn't slept well last night. Not only was she burning up and sweating through the sheets and tossing and turning, but she couldn't get comfy with the baby either.

Moving her arm, (Y/n) flopped her arm over her head and was surprised she wasn't sweating yet.

Her lips curved into a smile and she opened her eyes again to look across at Tommy when she felt his hand move. His arm retracted enough so that he could stretch his hand over the expanse of her stomach. His thumb glided up and down her skin while he pressed the heel of his hand down to see if he could feel the baby moving or not.

Now they were five and a half months, they could start to feel the baby move and kick and (Y/n) had never seen Tommy smile so wide as when he felt the first kick.

"How can you still sleep?"

(Y/n) took a moment to drag her eyes up and down her husband's frame. He was laid on his stomach with his face buried in the pillow, his hair slightly crimped due to the dampness in the air, curls askew in all directions. He had his right arm curled on top of the pillow and as usual, with his height, Tommy had his feet hanging off the end of the bed.

At some point during the night, they had kicked the thin sheet they used as a cover off the bed. Leaving (Y/n) laid in her underwear and Tommy wearing nothing at all.

"Don't know, just used to it I guess." Tommy lifted his head off the pillow and dragged his hand across his face to wake himself up.

The army helped get used to the heat considering the uniform he had to wear and the places he had been. And being cramped in a helicopter for hours on end, squashed in with other people, also got Tommy used to the heat.

"Are we getting up?" Tommy pushed up on his right elbow while he moved his hand from (Y/n)'s stomach to cup her face. He leaned over her with a wolfish grin and stole a kiss.

He dragged his eyes across to the clock on the side table before he pushed up on his knees and moved to get up. Their alarm would have gone off in ten minutes anyway and there wasn't much joy lying in bed when the room was on fire. He snapped on a pair of boxers and turned back towards the bed when (Y/n) sat up on the side of the bed and flopped her head forward.

Her hands moved to her knees and she groaned, taking a moment to try and get her head in gear.

"You okay, babe?"

A tender look flooded Tommy's face when (Y/n) held her hand out for him. He moved over towards her and stood in front of her knees, about to take her hand and pull her up until he realised that wasn't what (Y/n) was silently asking.

She held his wrist and moved his palm to the side of her stomach, causing Tommy to lean over her and move his other hand to rest on her bare thigh.

"Morning baby girl," He whispered softly and leaned over so he could press a kiss against the top of (Y/n)'s stomach. His fingers dragged over her abdomen in smooth circles and he grinned into her skin when he felt (Y/n)'s other hand move to drag through his hair. Trying to tame his unruly strands into a smooth, wavy formation.

When he pulled up, he held his hands out and effortlessly pulled (Y/n) up to her feet. He gave a sharp tug so she stumbled into his chest and he could bind his arms around her waist, pinning her against him with his lips against the side of her neck.

"I could get used to this heatwave if you go to bed like this every night." He spoke quietly into her neck, feeling every shiver that coursed beneath her skin.

And he grinned, baring his teeth against her neck as he dragged his hands down to cup her bum and hook one finger into her underwear to make the elastic snap against her hip.

"So you don't care that me and your daughter can't sleep during this heatwave?" (Y/n) looped her arms around his neck and leaned her cheek on Tommy's shoulder. She pressed a delicate, open-mouthed kiss to his neck while he sighed against her skin like he was contemplating the idea.

"Hm, suppose that is a problem. You gonna be okay at work?" Tommy leaned his cheek against the top of (Y/n)'s head.

"I doubt I'll be leaving the station so I'll be okay."

The only time light duties felt great was during weather like this. Bobby had the last decision on which calls (Y/n) could attend on. She was only allowed on less demanding calls where she could help as a medic or help get the equipment ready.

(Y/n) wasn't allowed to do any heavy lifting. She couldn't get close to any fires, all she could do in that respect was get the hose ready and sort the equipment for the rest of the team. She wasn't allowed to lift or help evacuate people or move patients.

She was practically benched on most cases and was reduced to being a helping hand as a medic and a back up to sort out equipment and tidy the station.

The station didn't have much A/C which was a downside, but when (Y/n) was just tidying and cleaning up it was okay. It was more preferable to being in the truck and running around sweating with the team. If (Y/n) was allowed to do more while she was pregnant, in this heat, she would collapse almost straight away.

"Good, I want my girls safe."

"We'll be safe." (Y/n) murmured into his neck, pressing a sloppy kiss there before she tried to pull out of his arms and look around for her uniform.

"Am I driving you today? I finish just before you so I'm good to pick you up too."

It was their routine for Tommy to drive if they were on the same shift pattern. Even if he was on a day off, he usually ended up driving (Y/n) to work and he spent some time at the station having a coffee with the team before they went out on calls.

"Yes please." She grinned when she felt Tommy kiss the back of her head before he headed off to the bathroom.

It didn't take long for Tommy to get a shower. He didn't like taking cold showers but it was the only kind he could take in this heat without making himself feel ill.

He carded his fingers through his hair, brushing the damp, sodden strands back on his head as he jogged down the stairs and wandered into the kitchen. His blushing red lips curved into a smile and he sank his teeth down into his lower lip when he looked over at his wife.

She was stood in the kitchen, one hand pressed down into the counter while she pushed up on her toes to reach into the top cupboard. It wasn't hard to see (Y/n) was struggling to find what she was looking for.

Walking up behind her, Tommy rested his hand down on her hip and leaned his chest against her shoulders. With the height difference he easily manged to press his chin down on top of her head, curving his lips into a wide smirk when (Y/n) tilted her head back against his neck to glare up at him.

"Need a hand?"

"Yeah, I need my meds you put on the top shelf." She pointed up and rose a brow, to which Tommy simply smiled and pecked her nose.

She knew he had put them up there at some point for this very reason. So he could come along and help her and get them down for her. It was his new favourite thing to hide glasses and the remotes and anything he could find and put them high up so (Y/n) would need his help.

He easily grabbed the pink and white box of vitamins and placed them down on the counter before both hands moved to cup her hips. He leaned his head down and kissed the top of her head, carding his fingers up and down her sides.

His thumbs stroked across her hips while he leaned back at an angle so he could look down at (Y/n). His smile morphed into a smirk and he took a step back so he could lean down and move his hands to her shirt. She was wearing her cotton shirt since it was short-sleeved and not as heavy or thick as her button up shirt. The weather was too constricting for that kind of material.

But Tommy could see the back of her hips were exposed on view. He slid his fingers into the waistband of her trousers and tucked her shirt back in before he smoothed his hands around to cup her stomach.

"I'm gonna have to raid inventory for some bigger clothes… these trousers won't fit next week." (Y/n) could feel Tommy laughing into her neck and it made shivers roll down her nerves and spark beneath her skin to her fingertips.

She could barely do up the zipper and buttons on her trousers anymore and her shirts wouldn't tuck in now they had to cover her bump.

Bobby had already said it was fine if she needed to look through the clothes in inventory and find some other sizes and (Y/n) knew she would have to do that soon. Lest she wanted to walk around the station showing off her stomach.

"That's a good sign."

"It's not a flattering look, though."

Closing her eyes, (Y/n) chugged down her tablets with a glass of juice before she moved her hands to hold Tommy's wrists. She looked down at the uniform she was wearing with a quiet huff.

It didn't do her any favours. Her shirt had to stretch over her five-month bump and it made her look round all over. At least with her normal clothing, they stretched normally over her stomach and were snug on her frame to show off that she was pregnant and not just a funny shape.

"You look pregnant, baby. And I love it." His lips attached to the side of her neck making (Y/n) shiver and lean her head back on his shoulder.

"Hm, whatever you say, pilot. Let's get going."

***

Tossing the clipboard down on the gurney, (Y/n) twisted on her heels and unlocked the medicine cabinet in the corner of the ambulance near the emergency door. Her fingertips grazed along each glass bottle, counting each one in every row and checking the labels to make sure they were in date.

Once they were all accounted for, she ticked them off on the check sheet and turned around.

That was the ambulance restocked and ready to go again.

"What are you doing in my ambulance, Kinard?"

A jolt ran through (Y/n)'s chest and had her heart shuddering in her chest. She pinned the clipboard against her stomach and took a deep breath, glaring down at Hen who was leant up against the back door with her arms folded over her chest and a smirk playing on her lips.

"Re-stocking it for you, Wilson. You're welcome." She passed over the clipboard while she slowly climbed down and followed Hen across the station floor.

She could feel the sweat rolling down the back of her neck already and (Y/n) hadn't even been out on a call yet. All three callouts this morning had been a burning building and then two car crashes, all of which (Y/n) couldn't assist on because Bobby said no.

So (Y/n) had made dinner in preparation for later, she had tidied up the kitchen and the annex and now she had re-stocked the ambulance and one of the trucks.

Being benched at the station made (Y/n) feel useless and she wanted to prove helpful to the team while she was on light duties. She didn't want to turn up to the station and do nothing for her shift. Even if all the team kept telling her she was 'making a baby and that was enough.'

It didn't feel like enough, (Y/n) needed to keep busy, even during this heatwave.

"So, how's you and Tommy doing?" Hen glanced over the clipboard before she set it down on the side and followed (Y/n) up the stairs towards the kitchen.

(Y/n) moved her hand down to her stomach, rubbing circles over her shirt as she smiled softly. "We're good, we're having dinner with his mum next week which will be interesting."

Tommy hadn't seen much of his parents lately and that was the way he liked it. But since he told them (Y/n) was pregnant, he knew they were trying to make more of an effort.

He had grown up switching between homes when his parents divorced and it had made things strained between them all. Tommy preferred distance from them, he found it easier and less stressful if they kept a safe distance and kept communications to the phone and the odd dinner every now and then. But at the same time, Tommy didn't want his child to have a fractured relationship with his parents so he was trying to make an effort.

"I never thought we'd see Tommy settle down. You've really made a difference with the old man."

"Don't let him hear you call him that." (Y/n) quipped over her shoulder as they headed into the kitchen.

She knew Tommy knew that was what Hen often called him but it was a term of endearment. He had been older than her when they started working together at the station. And Tommy was the older one in their friendship group, barring Bobby of course who was more like a father to them all.

Hen was happy to see Tommy finally settle down. She knew he had been struggling for a while when he used to be at the 118 and he hadn't truly found himself.

Being with (Y/n) changed everything for him. Tommy never thought he would get married until he met her and he never thought he'd start a family with how fractured and messed up his own family was. But it was the one thing he was living for now. It was what spurred him on and made him smile and brightened his day when he thought about who he was going home to and the family they were going to have together.

(Y/n) aimed for the fridge while she watched Bobby get the plates out. She had made lunch and left it on the side so Bobby could decide when they heated it up and sat down to eat.

But her hands clamped down on the back of the closest chair when the alarm bell sounded and dispatch came through the tanoid speakers.

Right when they were going to sit down to eat. Great.

A chorus of groans sounded throughout the kitchen as everyone put down whatever they were doing and listened to the announcement to see what kind of call they were going on.

"Cap?" (Y/n) looked towards Bobby, both hands on the chair as she arched her back out and waited.

She needed his say so to go along on this call or to be told she had to wait here.

"Hop in the truck. But you're a spare pair of hands only, I want you on the sidelines."

"Got it."

(Y/n) grinned and turned around with Hen, following her back down the stairs towards the truck. She didn't care if she was restricted, as long as she could do something to help the team. She could get everything out and ready, she could tidy up and get the gurney moving or unhook the hose and hand over the equipment. As long as (Y/n) was there with them she was going to make herself useful.

She hated sitting on the sidelines feeling useless.

***

Beads of sweat rolled down (Y/n)'s neck and down her forehead as she leaned forward. Her hands planted down on her thighs and she squatted, tilting her chin down to try and take deep breaths.

Why was it so hot?

Why were they in the middle of a heatwave? How was this fair? This was sweltering and (Y/n) could genuinely feel herself melting like a wax figure beneath the sun rays.

Tilting her head back, she squinted up angrily at the sun and pushed herself back up straight, feeling her back click into place. While her heartbeat pulsed beneath her skin and flooded her stomach that was pounding and the baby was twisting around.

She half expected to look up into the sky and see a helicopter flying overhead. It was usually what happened and (Y/n) wondered if it was her partner she was seeing around like an omen.

Stripping her jacket off, (Y/n) tossed it in the back of the truck and pulled the collar of her shirt down as if it would make a difference. Her shirt had turned three shades darker from how badly she was sweating, but it didn't matter. This was her job. She wanted to be useful and running the equipment to and from the truck was the best way to be useful.

Pushing away from the truck, (Y/n) grabbed the hose from the floor and slowly walked it back to the truck. She coiled it from her wrist to her elbow and locked it back in place, pushing up on her toes to click the lock.

Her head was pounding.

God, it felt like someone was attacking her with a hammer. Someone was going to smash her head in. Her skull felt like it was caving in by now. She would probably need to sit down when they got back to the station.

They had all missed lunch, that was probably why she felt so sluggish and achy.

Turning back around, (Y/n) pushed herself to keep walking and headed over to where Evan and Hen had dumped their helmets and some of their gear. She grabbed the strap to the oxygen tank and hoisted it onto her shoulder, holding their helmets in her other hand.

She could feel her knees shaking as she walked slower and slower back towards the truck and heaved the equipment back into the compartments.

"Ready?"

A hand clamped down on her shoulder and (Y/n) forced herself to smile, despite the way her head was pounding and the feel of her pulse thudding through her skin like a drumbeat.

She nodded at Eddie and followed him into the truck, heaving herself up despite the way her body was ready to collapse and give way right here and now. (Y/n) let herself flop down into one of the seats and wrangled with her belt stretching it around her stomach which made Hen smile as she sat down across from her.

Her head tilted back against the head rest and her hands moved to move up and down her stomach in circles.

"Fuck this heat." Evan muttered under his breath as he wound the window down and pressed his elbow against the door. He leant as far against the open window as he could, but it didn't make much difference. The heat was blistering out and driving didn't make the wind any colder, it just made hot air waft through the windows and make them all feel sick.

They could all tell the difference when they pulled up in the station.

The aircon in the station wasn't working properly but at least in the station there was a little bit of a cold breeze in the air.

(Y/n) could see stars in front of her eyes when it was time to get out the truck. She kept one hand on her stomach and used the other as leverage to slowly climb down from the truck.

She was ready to finally get some dinner, even if they were over two hours late for dinner and she had forgone breakfast since she felt queasy.

"Alright team, listen up."

(Y/n) could see in Evan's eyes that he found it hard to supress a groan. He felt the same as her; he wanted to go get a drink and finally have something to eat. But if Bobby wanted a talk with them, then they would all hang around and listen.

Moving across, (Y/n) stood in between Hen and Eddie just at the end of the truck. They stood in a line as Bobby shrugged off his florescent jacket and planted his hands down on his hips. He leant to one side, pushing one knee forward as he looked over the team. Most of them were dripping with sweat. All of them were catching their breaths back. And they all felt relieved at being back in the station, even if the air was still stiffling and felt like they had the radiators on full blast.

Tilting her head down, (Y/n) looked down at her boots and shuffled her weight from one foot to the other.

She couldn't focus on what Bobby was saying, not when her head was pounding like someone was smashing her skull with a hammer.

She could feel the baby doing twists in her stomach and she swallowed down a groan. Her right hand scratched at the back of her neck hard enough to draw blood while her left hand moved down to her stomach. She silently prayed for the baby to stay still so she could concentrate, but it didn't help. All (Y/n) could focus on was the pain in her head and her heartbeat that was thumping throughout every inch of her skin.

The words 'appraisal' and 'next tasks' filtered through (Y/n)'s head but she couldn't make any sense of them.

Oh, (Y/n) didn't feel good.

The station was starting to spin and (Y/n) couldn't see Bobby standing in front of them anymore. She couldn't work out anything when the room looked like it was tilted upside down and everything became a blur of grey, red and glistening white.

Her head fell forward while her eyes rolled to the back of her head and her body slumped forward.

The moment her knees hit the floor with a bang, everyone rushed forward as (Y/n) crashed down on her side. Her head bounced off the floor and her body went limp as they all crowded round her and reached out for her.

"Oh God."

"(Y/n)? (Y/n), honey are you with us?" Hen went down on her knees behind (Y/n) as Chimney crouched down in front of her.

Eddie spun on his heels and moved to the back of the truck, finding a medic bag while Bobby and Evan stood near Hen, waiting to see if they could help. They didn't want to crowd round (Y/n) too much when the station was stiffling hot as it was and all of them cramped together was going to make this heatwave feel even worse.

Reaching out, Hen gently tilted (Y/n)'s head to the side and she gently held onto (Y/n)'s arm and shoulder while Chimney moved down to her legs. They nodded at each other and eased her into the recovery position, bending her left arm beneath her head with her right arm stretched out in front of her. One leg bent up and they kept the other leg straight.

Hen pressed her fingers down on (Y/n)'s neck and counted her pulse before she pulled her eyelid back. Her eyes had rolled up. She couldn't check her pupil response.

"(Y/n)? Pass me a BP cuff." Chimney held his hand out and nodded when Eddie passed a cuff over to him.

He slid the strap up (Y/n)'s right arm that was stretched out and checked her blood pressure and clipped an oxygen pulse monitor on her index finger. He watched Hen find a thermometer and press it into (Y/n)'s ear.

"Temp is a little high, nothing dangerous." Hen pressed the back of her hand against (Y/n)'s temple before she looked across at Chimney. "She's sweating."

Chimney narrowed his eyes and leaned down, gently hooking his index finger between (Y/n)'s lips. He pulled her lower lip down and peeked in her mouth before he turned his attention to the blood pressure monitor when the electric monitor beeped to say it had taken an accurate reading.

"Lips are chapped and discoloured inside… BP is high… she might be dehydrated."

"When was the last time she had a drink?" Bobby leaned over with his hands on his knees and looked between them.

He had spent the morning out on calls and sorting paperwork in his office ready for appraisals. He had only spoken to (Y/n) to tell her to stay at the station. This last call had been the only one (Y/n) joined in on today and they had all been busy.

They all looked at one another as everyone tried to think. They had taken bottles of water with them out on their calls, but (Y/n) hadn't been on all the calls with them. None of them had seen her have a drink on this last call. They had missed lunch. No one knew what (Y/n) had done while she hung back at the station.

They could clearly see she had cleaned the trucks, re-stocked the ambulance, made dinner and tidied inventory. But that made them all sure she hadn't stopped to sit down which meant it was unlikely she stopped for a drink either.

"I haven't seen her drink since this morning." Eddie chipped in quietly as he dragged his hand across his jaw.

When a quiet murmur passed (Y/n)'s lips, Hen lifted her eyelid again and shone a light across her eyes, noticing her pupils were very constricted.

"Someone grab her a drink, something with a lot of sugar. We'll run an IV wide open with fluids to boost her up."

Evan nodded at Chimney's request and jogged towards the stairs to find a drink.

"Let's sit you up." Hen smiled softly and slipped her hands beneath (Y/n)'s arm and shoulders while Chimney held her hands. They carefully reeled her forward and sat her up but the moment she was upright, (Y/n) whimpered and her head flopped forward. Her chin tucked down into her chest and her body tilted forward to try and follow her head. She couldn't hold herself up; not yet, she didn't have the strength.

"Head… h-head hurts," (Y/n)'s voice was croaky and she was relieved when Hen eased her back so she was leaning against her. With her head flopped back on Hen's shoulder.

"You're definitely dehydrated."

"Okay, who's calling Tommy?"

Tilting her head back, Hen looked between Chimney and Eddie who was hovering nearby. Both men shared a look before Chimney groaned and nodded with his hands held up in the air. He would call Tommy. Chimney would call and face the wrath of his friend when he told him his wife had collapsed on shift.

He didn't want to be the one to call and face Tommy. He would rather Hen or Eddie do it, but Chimney had a feeling they would just hand the phone over to him either way. He was close to Tommy, it might be better coming from him than someone else. And there was no way (Y/n) was in any fit state to call him and try to explain.

"No-"

"You need to go home, maybe even go to the hospital. We need Tommy to come and get you." Hen rubbed her hand up and down (Y/n)'s arm who groaned and closed her eyes, trying to take deep breaths.

"You'll g-get me in trouble." (Y/n)'s voice was gritty and croaky but she tried to smile. Tommy wasn't going to be pleased about this. He was at work. He might not be able to answer the phone.

"Go grab a saline bag from inventory, would you?" Chimney muttered to Eddie while he fished his phone out of his pocket and pushed up from the floor. He took a few steps away from the team and clamped his free hand down on his hip. "Tommy? Hey, it's Howie…"

"Hey Howie, everything okay?" Tommy didn't want to be rude, but he wasn't used to getting a call from Chimney. Not unless he needed a favour or he wanted to confirm plans like when they went out on quiz nights.

"Uh… God, okay. (Y/n)'s not feeling great, she's actually fainted. We think she's dehydrated, is there any chance you could come down and get her?"

They all knew (Y/n) usually got a lift in with Tommy. The station was on his way to Harbour and even if he wasn't at work, they always saw Tommy dropping her off. And (Y/n) was in no state to take herself home, if Tommy couldn't get her they would have to keep her here and get her on some fluids before someone would have to drive her home.

"Fuck! I'll grab my keys and come down, is she alright?"

"We're gonna get her on a drip now and get her up when she's a bit more lucid-"

"Lucid? Where the Hell is she? What have you all been doing- you know she's bloody pregnant right? Howie she's supposed to be on light duties!"

Chimney pulled the phone away from his ear with a grimace and glared down at Hen. Next time something like this happened and they had to call Tommy, someone else could have the pleasure. Someone else could deal with Tommy's overprotective wrath and have him argue down the phone at them.

His eyes glanced down at (Y/n) and his expression softened when she tried to look up at him, realising who Chimney was talking to.

"Your hubby's on his way."

***

Lifting her head from her hands, (Y/n) tried to focus her hazy vision ahead when she felt Hen hold her shoulder and give a little squeeze.

Adrenaline sparked through (Y/n)'s stomach and a shiver rolled through her nerves when her eyes locked on her husband. He looked like a force of nature barrelling down the station towards them and it made the baby do a summersault.

Tommy noticed them all straight away. He could see the team fluttering and hovering around his wife like nervous flies and his sent his blood boiling higher than the temperature outside. His hands clenched into fists at his sides as he stormed down towards the bench just outside the gym at the back of the station.

He spared Hen a quick glance and nodded at Bobby who was leaning up against the far wall with his arms folded over his chest and a calming smile on his face.

(Y/n) began to smooth her hands up and down her knees while she watched Tommy aim her way and crouch down on his knees in front of her. His hands found her thighs and he pressed his chest up against her knees, trying to smile as he looked up at her with raised brows.

"Baby, are you okay? Howie said you collapsed." Tommy reached a hand up and gently cupped (Y/n)'s chin between his fingers, tilting her head down so they were level. He dragged his thumb over her lower lip and narrowed his eyes when he noticed her pupils were rather constricted. And he could feel how flushed her skin was and he noticed her lips were chapped.

"Just dehydrated, I feel a bit better now."

Reaching her hand up, (Y/n) gently cupped Tommy's wrist and leaned down into his touch. She tilted her head enough to press a quick kiss against the side of his hand while she felt his other hand squeeze her thigh.

"Oh, is that all?" His expression wasn't amused and he rolled his eyes before he looked over at Hen. "Do I need to take her to the emergency room?" He watched the way (Y/n) looked between him and Hen, begging her friend to say no so her husband would stop worrying.

"I think you can just take her home. BP has started to come back down and her vitals are good. We checked the baby too, all fine there."

They all knew if Hen or Chimney had said (Y/n) needed to be checked out, Tommy would have taken her right away and (Y/n) would of had no choice in the matter. Tommy trusted their judgement and if they thought (Y/n) was recovered enough to go home and rest, then that's what she would do.

"What were you doing? What kind of light duties are you on to make you collapse?"

(Y/n) rolled her lips together and looked down at her hands while she felt Hen take a deep breath beside her, clearly trying to smother her smile. And she just knew that Eddie was stood behind them with a catfish grin like he was watching one of his tella-novellas.

"Nothing. I've only been on one call today," (Y/n) squeezed Tommy's wrist and looked up at him when he straightened up and balanced on his heels so they were level.

But she felt her heart jumping into her throat when he simply stared at her with one arched brow and his lips pressed into a straight line. He didn't buy that, not for one second. And (Y/n) heard Eddie snort before he patted her shoulder like he was silently saying 'nice try'.

"Yeah, one call and re-stocking the ambulance. And the truck. And cleaning the station. Then making dinner. All while forgetting to get a drink in the middle of a heatwave."

A quiet groan tumbled past (Y/n)'s lips and she dropped her head forward onto Tommy's shoulder when he tutted at her. Eddie had just given her away. It wasn't as if (Y/n) had done any of this on purpose, but she would rather not tell her husband exactly how she had overdone things today and how she became busy enough to forget to keep herself hydrated and taken care of.

"Alright, you're finished for today; and probably the rest of the week." Tommy kept his voice quiet and curved his hand round to cup the back of (Y/n)'s neck. He felt her sighing into his shoulder while he looked across at Bobby. "Am I good to take her home?"

"Yeah, take her home and get some rest. And lunch, we didn't get chance to eat lunch; that will help I'm sure."

A sheepish smile formed on (Y/n)'s lips and she looked to her right and gingerly moved her right hand towards Hen. "Can I have that off now?" She looked between Hen and the IV taped into her hand until her friend got the message.

They had inserted a canula into her vein to get fluids into her system and (Y/n) had been on it for over twenty minutes now. But she didn't want to have to mess around taking the IV home with her and taking the needle out at home. The saline bag was over half empty now, (Y/n) had gotten enough fluids into her system through the drip and she had managed to drink half a bottle of water too.

Tommy moved his palms up and down (Y/n)'s thighs as she winced when Hen carefully removed the needle from her vein. She taped some cotton wool onto the back of (Y/n)'s hand and handed her a fresh water bottle.

"Here, try to keep drinking."

(Y/n) took the fresh bottle and nodded and her lips curved into a gentle smile when Tommy moved to hold her arms and slowly helped her up to her feet.

His arm bound around her waist like steel and when (Y/n) leaned forward into his chest and nuzzled her face against his sternum, she felt his lips pressing against the top of her head. He smoothed his hand up and down her hip and nodded gratefully at Hen when she handed him (Y/n)'s bag.

"Let's get you home." Tommy murmured against the top of (Y/n)'s head, saying a quick thank you to the team before they made a slow walk out the station.

(Y/n) could feel her head going fuzzy when Tommy opened the car door and she let herself slump down into the passenger seat. A sigh tumbled past her lips and she slouched down, bringing her knees up high while her hands moved to her stomach and her eyes fell closed.

"Okay?"

She almost didn't answer until she felt Tommy's hand on her chin and he gently but firmly tilted her head to the right so she was facing him.

"If you're about to pass out on me, we're going to the emergency room." He waited for (Y/n) to open her eyes and try to smile at him to show she wasn't going to pass out. She was just closing her eyes because she still felt drained.

When Tommy started the car, (Y/n) shifted in her seat again, staying slouched down but she twisted so she was facing him. A soft smile pulled at her lips and she reached one hand out to squeeze his thigh.

"Babe… I'm sorry you had to come get me." Her voice was quiet but she kept her eyes on Tommy as he looked across at her with an arched brow.

"You don't have anything to be sorry for, you know I'll always come get you if you need me. But you need to be careful, you can't go doing everything. You're on light duties for a reason."

"I know… but if I'm not allowed on a call, I have to do something. I can't sit at the station like a spare part. I just… the heat and everything just got to me today." (Y/n) knew she was on light duties and she knew that meant she couldn't do half the things she normally would on the job, but she wanted to feel useful.

She wanted to keep the station clean if she was hanging back while the rest of her team were on a call. (Y/n) wanted to make sure the equipment was working or tidied away or that the trucks and ambulance were stocked so everyone could rush out on their next call and be prepared.

There was so much she couldn't do so (Y/n) tried to make sure she did what she was able to.

Powering through during a heatwave might not have been the best way to go and (Y/n) wouldn't be doing this again. If this heatwave continued she would be making sure to take it easy on shift because she didn't want to collapse and scare everyone and be sent home early.

Although having Tommy come pick her up and be so caring and protective over her was definitely something that made (Y/n) weak at the knees.

"I get wanting to do your part, but I need you to take care of yourself if I'm not there. You're not a spare part and you're not doing nothing, you're looking after our girl."

(Y/n) could feel her stomach fluttering with adrenaline when Tommy moved his hand over to trace his fingertips over her stomach. She let her eyes fall closed and moved her hands to hold Tommy's wrist, moving his hand down so he could feel the baby move.

[bluegiragi]

okay, first of all, absolutely goddamn feral about you, your art, writing, ideas and aus i am chewing on the bars of my cage and foaming at the mouth and screeching incoherent and rolling around on the floor and- ough... anyway

i do have a very self indulgent question, particularly about Monster AU Ghost and Price, but also extending towards the rest of 141 with their involvement

at one point you mentioned that wraiths were rare, and ghost would likely feel pity towards another one

what would happen if they did come across another wraith? especially someone fairly fresh, maybe even young, younger than any of them. is there anything anyone could do to help them? would they help? price seems to know how to handle ghost well enough, and seems like hes been around since ghost's transformation, but how would ghost himself handle seeing someone else go through something like what he did? if he had to, what advice would he give them that he never got?

just been rotting in my brain 😭 ily gira and i hope youre taking care of yourself, thank you so much for the work you put in and share with us 🥺💕

this!! is!! such a good question, anon!!!! I think there's a lot of sides to that kind of situation, especially if it’s a younger person since I hc Ghost as having a massive soft spot for kids.

lots of writing under the cut!!! my braincells were FEASTING.

I think if it was just Ghost and the newly-born wraith, he'd try to mercy-kill it. The circumstances that lead to the creation of a wraith are truly harrowing, and while Simon understands the desire for revenge that burns at the core of every freshly made wraith, he also believes their plight is a kind of torture. In his mind, it would be kind to put one out of their misery. He wouldn't take any pleasure in it - I think overall, it would be a miserable affair for all parties involved.

If Price or any of the others were around, I think they’d try to convince him to take them under his wing so to speak. But while Ghost currently operates decently with his support system, he’s extremely lucky and should be considered the exception to the trend. Price was instrumental in his recovery - years of working under him solidified Price in his subconscious as an authority figure he could trust. When Ghost lost control, he could still rely on instinct - even with his mind fracturing, Price never changed. But not everyone has this kind of person immediately available to them, and it was crucial that Price got to him as soon as he did. What Ghost is now is not what a wraith commonly looks like. Price dragged him back from a brink.

New wraiths are sort of like rabid dogs, with no sense of self preservation. They’d approach every confrontation with the kind of frenzy you’d see in someone fighting for their life. They’d also be basically impossible to immobilize - you’ve seen how Simon goes wispy at times, imagine trying to handcuff a cloud of smoke. If it came down to a situation where any of the 141 were in danger, Ghost wouldn’t hold back. He’d put the other wraith down.

But if Ghost met another wraith who’d survived that first explosion of fury and managed to calm down, AND the 141 were with him, I think he’d try to help. They bring out the best in him.

[cultofdixon]

Day One to the Rest of our Lives

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • Part 1 • Before The Outbreak - The Farm • The nurse next door always had a soft spot for the Dixons as they were her family. It took the end of the world and an almost near death experience to get the youngest Dixon to make a move • ANGST/SFW • TW: Canon Violence / Scars / Injuries / Blood Loss / Emergency Surgery / Abuse / Drug & Alcohol Consumption / Anxiety

Requested by: Anon

NEXT

Before The Outbreak

“Merle you’re a fucking dumbass” Daryl groans trying to help walk a drunk and injured Merle up the stairs to their apartment.

“That bitch deserved it!” Merle shouted only to be shushed because of the time of night it was and most of the neighbors hated him.

Except, surprisingly, Y/N. Their next door neighbor that is rarely home or seen because her other home seems to be the hospital she works as a nurse at. One of the times their paths crossed was when Y/N went to the bar Merle frequents at and got blasted after a long day but still managed to give Merle stitches when he decided the bar window was nice to go through.

When the brothers reached the top of the steps, Daryl instantly noticed Y/N sitting on the floor propped up against her door. Merle squinted to see why his brother stopped.

“Y/N WAKE UP” Merle shouted causing Y/N to flinch awake and for Daryl to groan letting go of his brother making him fall onto the floor. “Bitch…”

Y/N blinked a few times to get the sleepiness out of her eyes as she gave a confused look to Merle’s still body on the floor. She was about to ask questions but decided not to and accept the extended hand coming from Daryl.

“Do I even wanna know?”

“Besides drunk, what else you wanna know?”

“Nothing” Y/N laughed a bit, bending down to grab her backpack to get her keys out. “He needs stitches?”

“Just an ice pack, I think imma let him hang there” Daryl crosses his arms looking at his now passed out brother watching Y/N walk over to him and rolling him on his side. “What’s that for?”

“In case he throws up. I’m gonna grab a blanket so he won’t be too uncomfortable out here” Y/N returns to her door unlocking it. “I know he may have ruined it but you want a beer?”

“More so a smoke than a drink” Daryl rubs the back of his neck giving a concerned look to his brother that Y/N noticed once she was halfway through the door.

After dropping off her stuff and taking her coat off, Y/N stepped out gesturing for Daryl to follow her lead in picking up Merle. Her by his legs and him by his arms. Eventually Merle got settled on her couch still on his side and with a trash can beside his head.

“We could’ve—-“

“Nah too many extra steps to get him back in your apartment. Besides, I’m a trained professional in case other shit happens” Y/N went over to her window as she spoke, opening it up enough for her to climb through with Daryl following shortly after.

One would think anyone wouldn’t want anything to do with the Dixon brothers mainly because Merle puts trash onto their name. But Y/N likes their company, Daryl’s mainly, because it keeps her sane and human. Working in a hospital so much to the point one is accused of “living there,” anyone would want normalcy.

It’s an added bonus finding themselves sat in the fire escape, sharing a cigarette from the pack that Y/N hides in the empty plant pot that the previous owners left at her apartment.

“I had to take a decontamination shower at the end of my shift because of the vomit and blood from that singular patient”

“Sounds awful” Daryl frowns, watching Y/N smoke for a moment as he kept his gaze on how tense she was for a while before finally relaxing after exhaling the smoke. Her eyes were exhausted just as the rest of her, but they told so much more that he worried for. “Ever thought of taking a break? Vacation more like”

“With all the hours I’ve got saved, I could. But I’ve been in the hospital for so long that I wouldn’t know what I’d even do”

“Uh…well you like Merle and I, you can join us for our hunting trip” Daryl put that up in the air, looking her curious expression. “It’ll be next month”

“I haven’t gone hunting since my old man was still around…” Y/N put out the last of her cigarette thinking about the option. “You sure Merle would be cool with it?”

He didn’t think that would work. Daryl shrugs as he looked back into the apartment where Merle laid on the couch snoring loudly. “The worse to happen is Merle would hit on yea for most of it”

“I’ve dealt with worse, trust me…a lot worse”

“So…?”

“I’d be happy to. As long as I get a ride from work. I wanna work as much as I can before taking a few days off”

“We can pick yea up from work. Merle will be on his bike and I’ll be taking the truck”

“Works for me, I’ll give you my stuff the day before” Y/N smiles and that quickly faded along with Daryl’s when both heard the eldest Dixon vomit his stomach out. “Yup. Love his company too”

During The Hunting Trip (and the start of the outbreak)

“You wear anything other than the scrubs?”

“Sundresses, but I wasn’t going to pack one of those for a hunting trip Merle” Y/N rolled her eyes, quickly stopping when she heard something. Merle quickly but stealthily followed the noise.

It felt unreal, how quick something can escalate from standing in the open waiting for either Dixon to come back from the noises they’ve heard…to falling back in shock to the undead stepping closer.

The closer it got, the more Y/N let the shock take over that when she reached for her knife…the sicko fell on her. But thankfully with a bolt in its skull. Y/N couldn’t register what had just happened until Merle kicked the corpse off of her body making her lock eyes with the equally shocked Daryl across from her.

“You alright girlie?” Merle asks, not waiting another second as he grabbed her upper arm pulling her up on her feet. “Come on speak! Are yea bit?”

“No I’m…uh what the fuck?!” Y/N shouted once it hit her letting Merle check her arms and neck before shoving him back. “Is this what that fucking radio broadcast was about?”

“Makes sense right about now. But the fact that one is out here…people makin’ camp and bringing those who’ve been infected out here with them”

“Fuck. The hospitals must be flooded with patients with symptoms before it reaches this stage.” The worry on her face only drew an annoyed one out of Merle and an equally concerned expression from Daryl but not for the strangers. “I have to go back, see if I can help or something!” Y/N stated as she started to make her way toward the truck.

“Doll, that won’t be a smart decision” Merle planted his hands on his hips continuing the annoyed look on his face until it turned to confusion when his brother quickly caught up with her.

“You can’t go back”

“I have to! I took an oath” Y/N scrambled a bit, putting her hunting rifle in the bed of the truck dropping her pack on the floor to grab a clean scrub top. “I didn’t spend years in school to not save people’s lives——“

“Y/N, if this shit spread. The hospital ain’t safe and I can’t lose you”

His words caused her to freeze in her place before turning toward him with a much softer expression compared to her worry filled one.

“W-We can’t lose you…okay? If they didn’t figure the virus out, I don’t know what you could do”

“I wish I could do something…” Y/N felt the burning sensation of tears building in her eyes forcing her to look away.

Daryl stood for a moment wanting to pull her into his arms, but both were startled by Merle’s crazed excitement when he found something off the corpses body.

They’ll have to get used to this…new life

The Quarry

“Does it still hurt?” Y/N frowns gently dabbing the cut on Carol’s cheek with a wet rag. She pulled the rag away to wet it more with water from her canteen. “Is he really helping Shane? Or waiting for you back at your tent”

“Knowing Ed, he’s waiting back at the tent. I’m just…thankful Sophia wasn’t there” Carol frowns, flinching when Y/N went back to cleaning up the blood giving her apologies for the suddenness. “You understand…don’t you?”

“I don’t get what you mean…”

“You know…being with them at the start of all this…I doubt they were good company” Carol scoffs when they both heard Merle shouting like usual at Shane. If they weren’t labeled “typical rednecks” when they first joined this group, then they would’ve seen it was Shane’s fault for what Merle was yelling at him for.

“You’ve got them wrong.” Y/N scoffed to her words, looking over at them in what looks to be an argument. Watching Daryl try to de-escalate the situation from how intense Merle decided to make it. “Me wrong too…I’ve known them for years. I was their neighbor and while Merle did have his moments, they were both still nice to me. Hell…even there for me when I needed it” she frowns looking back to her bag to take out a bandage for Carol’s cheek and once it was placed, she stood to her feet. “Give them the benefit of the doubt instead of judging right away…”

With that she took her leave toward her tent that was next to the Dixons which were a camp away from camp because a few shared private concerns making them isolate. Y/N wasn’t about to leave them even if Merle did make the comment when they first joined this group.

“She’s more like them” is what he said

“Stupid fuckin’ pig” Merle scoffs returning to their little campsite taking a seat beside Y/N who was just as annoyed as he was but more on the melancholy side of things while his was filled with rage.

Concern only washed over Daryl when he noticed her expression but he didn’t even get a second to say anything before Merle went off.

“Y’know I bet yea that motherfucker only wants me to go on that trip just so something bad can happen and I end up a sicko”

“Wait, what trip?” Y/N quickly turned to Daryl knowing he will give a better explanation of everything while Merle only focused on what mattered to him.

“Shane, the fucking moron that tells us not to hunt at a certain hour so he could do who knows what in the woods—-wants me to join the girlies, the Chinese kid, and the other two to go into Atlanta for supplies”

“Well, he’s Korean first of all…”

“Doll like I give a fu—-CK” Merle shouted when Y/N elbowed him in the side. “They using me as a goddamn escort nobody gonna give a fuck if I meet my maker out there”

“We do” Y/N gestured to Daryl and herself. “Merle, you’re more of muscle along a few of the others from the main group. You sure he didn’t ask for yea to make sure the others are safe?”

“That’s exactly how he put it, Merle is just dramatic” Daryl sets his crossbow down beside him once he sat on the ground with them. “They’ll die without us”

“As much as people can adapt, Daryl has a point here. Shane will only lose game if he went shooting his shotgun at deers and squirrels” Y/N leaned back on her hands. “Hell, the squirrels will explode if he shot at them. They’ll need the both of y’all to bring back a lot of game to survive. Besides, you know Atlanta better than most. You can survive a few herds”

“You both are a bunch of bitches” Merle wasn’t serious when he stated such at least when it’s directed to those two, but he still didn’t like the idea of leaving with these people to Atlanta.

That when they returned with someone who wasn’t Merle, Y/N knew they were about to meet a whole world of hurt.

“Fuck no”

“Y/N—-“

“I could never get Daryl to calm down” They both know that was a lie, Y/N is honestly the only person that could calm him down. But what they both can agree on is they don’t know how he will react to the news.

“Bullshit. You’re gonna have to try somethin’ so he doesn’t fucking kill the man”

“But isn’t that what you wanted?” Y/N watched the color leave Shane’s face. “For this Rick guy to remain dead so you can lay your pipe in a place you shouldn’t be laying it”

His fists clench at either side of him trying his hardest not to strike, but Y/N had enough of keeping that shit to herself. She didn’t care for what happened next…for the most part

When Daryl returned to the camp in search for Merle, ignoring everyone’s questions while he came up empty on finding his brother within the camp. But the annoyance only grew when he couldn’t find his—-Y/N.

“Where’s—-“

“We left Merle. Well, I did.” Rick stated noticing the concern on Daryl’s face which led him to believe there was more to it and he instantly turned to Shane. All the man ever does was shrug but it quickly turned to pulling the youngest Dixon off his “brother”

His presence would normally bring joy in any mood she was in, but given the situation and what happened prior to Daryl finding out about his brother? Y/N was miserable and hiding something.

“You hear what those fucking sons of bitches did?! Leaving Merle chained up to a goddamn roof!” Daryl shouted, quickly stopping when he noticed Y/N flinch to his words. “Sorry—-Fuck, I’m just—-“

“Mad. Rightfully, mad” Y/N rasped, squeezing her eyes shut while she pressed her wet bandana to her cheek. “That Rick guy said he was going to go back to get his dumbass even after putting him up there.”

Daryl didn’t say anything right away as he steps around her to get a look at her front watching her duck her head. “Lori wasn’t too happy about it”

“Figured” Y/N frowns continuing to look at the ground watching his shadow grow bigger practically covering her and indicating he was knelt in front of her. Daryl gently removed what she was using as a rag to see what happened. “It’s superficial. Not like I’d have anything to do stitches anyway…you need to get Merle back”

He didn’t say a word all he did was nod while reaching for her pack to take out those butterfly bandages she has.

“Can I—-“

“Yeah”

The youngest Dixon didn’t push her on what happened, all they talked about after he saw was the plan to get Merle’s ass back to the camp. Even if it meant she couldn’t come with which infuriated her.

But that didn’t matter. The feeling useless part passed quickly when their camp was being washed through with a herd. Y/N always had her axe beside her and didn’t hesitate to start taking out sickos while most of the women protected their children. The only thing she’d want to protect wasn’t there. She didn’t need to worry too much.

Carol let out a scream when one got too close that lead Y/N to quickly swing her axe into its skull watching her quickly get away following Lori. Y/N pulled the axe out and didn’t know of the walker creeping up behind her until a gun shot both killed the walker and almost burst her ear drum. But she quickly turned toward who fired and saw Daryl, both having a relieved look that turned into focused quickly to finish off the walkers.

Once all the dead and undead were mourn or taken care of…the plan was to go to the CDC in hopes for something to help Jim when it was revealed he was bitten. But on the way, they stopped and left him as per his request.

The CDC

Y/N of course sat with Daryl in his truck with Merle’s bike strapped in the bed of it. Neither of them talked for most of the ride given they were worried, angry, and a bit upset…but not at each other. Daryl knows Y/N has her reasons for not telling him how the cut on her cheek happened but that didn’t mean he didn’t worry. She on the other hand was infuriated and struggling to keep the tears at bay. Being a nurse and feeling useless was getting to her. That bastard leaving Merle was getting to her. That stupid bitch Shane was getting to her.

“You think Merle is fine?” Y/N questions while she watches the scenery go by the woods slowly disappearing. “What kind of son of a bitch cuts his own hand off? Doubt he even knows how to properly stop the bleeding…burning it isn’t the right way��

“Merle is a roach. He’ll turn up…eventually” Daryl frowns gripping onto the wheel tight as he continued to follow the RV. The truck ran over a walker causing it to jump and for Daryl to instantly force his arm in front of Y/N as she held onto it out of anxious habit with bumps.

“Never going to get used to that…maybe we should’ve just ditched the truck and taken the bike”

Daryl took note of that

When they got to the CDC, right away one assumed that it was empty and barren. Honestly who could blame the scientists for running from this mess? The government already decided more destructive solutions that didn’t work. But when the doors opened, everyone was on edge. Thankful, but on edge. Y/N was given the hunting shotgun Daryl he had back at camp to pair with the axe strapped to her back under her pack. She raised it instantly along with the others when the doctor stepped out to greet the survivors.

Dr. Jenner was his name and he happily let them in giving them the facility for the night. He of course had them get tested for anything which had Y/N feeling nostalgic and given her background, he asked for her help in a few ways before everyone decided to enjoy the luxuries that the place gave.

Booze. Booze was the start along with food.

Y/N only drank with Daryl and Merle, so she didn’t feel comfortable drinking as much as the others were during the dinner the doctor made for them. She kept an eye on Daryl given he was drinking til he couldn’t see straight anymore, he needed it after the Merle nonsense.

But every time he looked over at her, he smiled. In a way it was to make sure she was still there but there was so much more.

When the group started to turn in for the night, everyone stayed with who they were close with. But given how much Glenn drank, Rick and Shane suggested he’d stick with Y/N and Daryl. Mainly Y/N for she has the training in case he aspirated. Which nothing a good “having him sleep on his side” wouldn’t fix.

Daryl stumbles into the room squinting at the sight of Y/N helping Glenn lay down on his side before moving to the couch which would be her bed for the night. She made Glenn’s bed out of the back cushions of the other couch knowing Daryl was going to rip them off anyway. He came to the apartment drunk once and she’d let him crash, he did exactly that before passing out.

“Did you shower? In your state?”

“Nah. Got lost” Daryl scanned around the room quickly switching the light off.

Before Daryl even thought about going to the other couch and sleeping off the effects alcohol has on the body, he brought himself to sit on the floor leaning up against Y/N’s couch. He flinched slightly when she brought her hand to his forehead before easing into the smallest touch.

“Just the alcohol. No fever”

“Just checking” She said in a hushed tone before laying back on the couch keeping her eye on him watching his brows furrow contemplating on saying something or not. “You should get some sleep, bubs”

He felt the heat rise instantly in his face as he decided the couch was no longer an option and laid down right where he was. Y/N watched him get comfortable on the floor before grabbing a couch cushion and giving it to him to use as a pillow.

The night progressed and Daryl laid awake for the most part, thinking staying conscious would subside the feeling of liquor and the strange but familiar one lingering in his chest.

Just when most thought the next morning would be peaceful after some breakfast and much needed pain killers…it was revealed what the clock was on the wall. It was a countdown for total power loss and the last of it to destroy the CDC in a fiery explosion.

Leave or Die

Leave or Die

Leave or Die

Who would’ve thought that would be a hard decision to make while most panicked around her and once Jenner finally opened the doors for them. She froze in place and felt the tightness in her chest grow.

When Daryl watched the door open he immediately turned to his side half expecting her to be with him. But soon realized she stood by the panels with the doctor and those debating to stay or know for fact. He stood there waiting. Waiting for any sign.

Even if it was Y/N simply turning around to look at him with tears in her eyes. Daryl then acted without a thought by sprinting toward her and instantly picking her up before booking it for the main lobby of the CDC. Where the commotion involving a grenade was being conducted.

“Duck!” The sheriff yelled as everyone did exactly what he said, Daryl shielding Y/N when he crouched feeling her shift out of his arms but her arms remained around his neck holding him close.

They parted when the grenade explosion dissipated, but Daryl didn’t hesitate for a second to usher her out of the building before getting himself out.

The explosion of the CDC rattled the earth and those especially barely escaping it.

“Everybody alright?” Rick asks everyone getting a few yeses and more of annoyed groans after being shaken. “We have to get out of here. Before the herd comes”

“Help me get the bike off” Daryl gestured for Glenn to help as he went to do so. Y/N instantly bringing herself to the bed of the truck grabbing their gear before they took the bike off.

“Rick, siphon the gas from the truck and fill up your cars. Should hold us up for a while or at least until we find more cars”

As they were quick to scramble and move some of the gear from the truck to the RV, Y/N was about to move into one of the cars when Daryl gripped her shoulder gently.

“Ride with me, yeah?”

“I uhm. It’s been a while, Daryl…”

“Alright…Uhm. Don’t sit with Shane, least do that for me” The look he gave her when he said that, only told her that he knew. He knew who gave her that wound on her cheek.

Y/N instantly nods and goes to join Andrea, Glenn, and Dale in the RV while Daryl got situated on his bike leading the way back to the freeway. Hopefully they can find shelter elsewhere.

The Farm

“You and Daryl seem…close. Is there like more to that?” Glenn thought maybe since there wasn’t many in the RV, and especially Daryl, that he could ask things like that.

Y/N being more open to answer after spending more time with these people. “We’re close, but if you’re insinuating what I think you are then no…”

“Is that what you want?” Andrea cuts in, looking directly at Y/N from her spot in the passengers seat. “You want something more don’t you?”

“I-…Well, why would I if the other party doesn’t seem interested” Y/N stated, only for Dale to scoff with a laugh after. “What?”

“You would have to be blind as a bat to not notice how much that man cares for you. If you really wanna know? Try and talk to Shane. About anything.” Dale gave her a look through the rear view mirror before stopping in the freeway when his RV started to make noise. “Damn thing breaking on me at the wrong time”

When the RV stopped, everyone stopped.

Daryl brought his bike to the banks of the freeway watching the RV from his spot seeing Dale get out first along with Glenn. He was about to go in to check on—-

“Hey, this’ll be the perfect time to fuel up on some gas. Even check some of the cars for anything that will be useful.” Rick interrupted his thoughts, Daryl nodded to his words watching him go ahead of him before taking a quick glance at the RV finding Y/N stepping out with a look he couldn’t fully read.

“Hey, Y/N can you take a look at these meds I found?” Lori caught her attention instantly and the second she approached him, Daryl went ahead to investigate some of cars himself.

Then things turned for the worse and a herd started to come through the cars. Most hid underneath the closest car they were near and Dale got stuck on top of the RV…but the worst to happen was the cries of Sophia had attracted some of the walkers. Leading her to run away and the sheriff quickly went after her.

‘Sophia’ Carol whisper shouted as they couldn’t entirely leave when the herd was passing, they only started to get out of hiding and took out the stragglers.

Y/N quickly pulled herself out from under the car watching Carol quickly get out with Lori trying to stop her. She wanted so badly to chase after her daughter and the walkers but Rick’s got it. He’s going to save her…

“You didn’t find her?” Carol couldn’t hold back the sobs anymore, Lori laid a comforting hand on her back.

“They’ll find her or at least try their hardest” Y/N tells Carol with concern littered in her voice even if she only wanted the first part. “There’s still plenty of people in the world even after it ended. She could’ve ran into somebody that will help her get back to you…” she gave a sad smile before turning to Daryl watching him straighten up.

“We’ll find her. We’ll keep lookin’”

This is a mother’s worst nightmare Y/N thought as she organized the trunk of their findings before being pulled away to help T-Dog in terms of his injury.

Rick and Shane left a while ago with Carl to go search for Sophia which left the others splitting into searching themselves and staying at the RV. Y/N being with the RV group given she wanted to keep an eye on T-Dog’s injury but some part of her was screaming internally over this whole situation.

Sophia hid because Rick instructed her to do so but she ran. You would run if your life was about to be in the hand of walkers…

Now Rick, Shane, and Carl disappeared. What could’ve possible gone wrong?

“Are you okay?” Y/N frowns watching Andrea come into the trailer with a bit of annoyed but equally anxious look on her face.

“Yeah, but someone took Lori. Knew Carl and her name so we are gonna go to the place they are at” Andrea sat across from her at the little table noticing Y/N pinching her arm which some spots started to bruise.

As Andrea reached across the table to take her hand to get her to stop, ultimately holding it so she wouldn’t continue. Daryl flew the door open instantly locking eyes with Y/N before stepping away to get on his bike while Glenn and Dale flooded in.

The second the RV arrived on the farm, Rick ran out of the house toward it. He gently pushed Glenn and Andrea out of the way to get Y/N taking her hand dragging her toward the house.

“Where’s the fi—-“

“Carl’s been shot. The man of the house is a vet and is doing his best. Could use another set of—-“

“I’ve got it” Y/N didn’t need to hear more to understand the just of it. She was going to be told everything by Hershel, the head of the house, anyway.

Once Shane came with the right medical supplies, Hershel was relieved to have someone with full medical training to help him fix Carl’s injuries. But that didn’t stop him from discussing certain matters.

“If you don’t mind me asking…”

“Is it about this?” Y/N gave him a confused look keeping hold of the retractor while Patricia continuously squeezed the ambu bag that Shane managed to snag for Carl.

“No…these people you’re with…you trust their judgement?”

“Yeah, a little bit. I’m still trying to get used to the fact that one of them left my—-my best friend’s brother on a roof” Y/N picked up a piece of gauze to dab at the blood that spilled. “He wa—is a racist sexist son of a bitch so. Who could blame him”

Patricia fought back a laugh as Hershel rolled his eyes but was going to take her word for the first part. He can give some trust in these people.

“Listen, Hershel. I may have not been with these people for long…but they are good people. They mean well at the end of the day even with their flaws.” Y/N finished her thought before helping him finish with the closing.

After the operation, Y/N stepped out into the kitchen where Patricia instructed her to wash her hands in the sink. As she was doing so, Lori instantly went to her and without any words she gave her a smile and let Hershel explain how everything went smoothly.

Y/N stepped out realizing how late it was and how everyone set up their tents already. Part of her wished she still had her apartment and could simply crash without having to set anything up. But when she was about to head toward the RV to get her things, she noticed her tent set up and close to his.

Sweet… Y/N felt the twitch of a smile before entering her tent and laying on the floor for a moment.

Laying on the ground in a tent after a successful surgery was very different compared to laying on the kitchen floor with a half empty bag of chips and a bottle of Merlot. Felt nicer and worse in some way.

“Y/N?” Daryl whispers, just in case she was still asleep but when she opened the tent flap he relaxed a bit from the awkward feeling. “The kid alright?”

“Yeah, he’ll probably need another transfusion but we won’t know until he improves” Y/N sat in the way of the flap giving Daryl an unreadable look and all he wanted to know mostly was if she was alright after what she had to do. But decided to focus on different matters. “Did you need something, Dar?”

“Uh. No I just…I’m gonna look for Sophia in the mornin’. Wanna let yea know”

“Thank you…be safe and back before nightfall”

“I promise, sunshine” He gave a small nod shortly leaving after, letting Y/N get some sleep even when once the tent flap closed she felt the heat consume her face when he called her that.

But that small happiness faded when her anxiety started to eat at her the more the sunlight faded in the next day.

“You need to stop pacing. You’ve done laundry, you checked Carl’s incision site, you gave Maggie and Glenn a list of drugs to look for on their run, amongst other small tasks. Creating a ditch in the dirt just from pacing back and forth is only going to wear your shoes out and not make Daryl come back any fast” Andrea told Y/N while she got up on top of the RV to take watch.

“She’s got a point. You’re wearing yourself out over possibly nothing” Dale said while handing his rifle up to Andrea expecting her not having to use it. “He’s looking for signs of Sophia or her overall and will be back. He told you that much”

“Least you know what his intentions are. Most partners don’t realize their significant other is cheating on them because they beat around the bush when asked “where have you been”” Rick stepped out of the RV saying such which in response was a confused expression from Y/N. “He is your boyfriend is he not?”

“No! We aren’t together at all…”

“Hm. Odd”

“How so?”

“I had to pull off a very angry drunk Daryl off of Shane the night we spent at the CDC. Threatened to kill him if he ever laid a hand on yea again” Rick shrugged. “That’s when I thought y’all were somethin’ more.”

Andrea laughed at the situation, earning an annoyed groan from Y/N as she turned to Dale about to question if he knew about that incident when her friend’s tone shifted.

“WALKER” Andrea shouted rising from the lawn chair. “Walker!”

“Just the one?” Rick question without a confirmation on the number but he couldn’t focus on that anymore when Shane, Glenn, and T-Dog started to make their way over to said walker. “Hold up. Hershel wants to handle the walkers”

“We’ve got it” Shane assured continuing on his way while Andrea had the brilliant idea that she can take out the walker with the rifle she has and the sun in her eyes.

Dale kept trying to tell her not to take the shot. Maybe because they were heading their way toward the “walker” and she couldn’t accidentally hit the living.

But she did that. To the walker that was actually an injured Daryl.

When he dropped, the ounce of joy Andrea felt immediately faded when all three by the RV heard the shouts of no!

Y/N quickly made her way over to the shouting and noticed the limp hunter in between Rick and Shane that she started to feel that itchy feeling that came with anger. She gripped the tank top she was in, quickly turning around and heading straight for her tent to get her scrub top before making it to the house the second Hershel was informed.

Regardless of the minor protests of having her patch Daryl up, even from the man himself, Y/N was persistent and pissed.

When the adrenaline wore off, Daryl passed out but thankfully his wounds were taken care of and he was left alone. Not entirely though. Y/N sat on the window bench watching the rise and fall of his chest every now and then. But for the most part she kept her focus on her hands and how much blood stained her skin. Especially her nails.

Just the thought and fact of it being his blood resulted in her curling up on herself and sobbing ever so softly.

The time Carol came in and told him how grateful she was that he still went out of his way to go search for Sophia, Daryl noticed Y/N’s sleeping form in the window but especially the redness slightly above her cheeks.

“She’s been here the whole time. She does a good stitch job from what Hershel says” Carol whispers with a small laugh at the end of her sentence. “Get some rest, Dixon”

Y/N woke to the sound of struggling and a few curses. Daryl thought he could go unnoticed given their group was asleep in their tents and so was the family that owned the house but the light sleeper that was his—Y/N woke up.

“Stop starin’ and give me a hand”

“You deserve to rest in a bed, Daryl…” Y/N frowns getting up from her spot and approaching him but before he could protest, she helped him stand to his feet. “Least let me help you to your tent”

Daryl nodded, letting Y/N wrap one of his arms around her shoulders before getting out of the house. She made him take it slow and practically at her pace given it was what she wanted him to go at.

The silence was killing him that when they finally reached his tent and Y/N was about to part from him, he gently grabbed her wrist pulling her back.

“What’s wrong?”

“What?”

“You haven’t talked. Not a long walk but still. You just…haven’t”

Y/N stared at him. Stared into those deep blue eyes that bore into her soul for an answer which only let the damn break loose.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” The wobble in her voice shook him in his core. “Seeing you…in the state that you were in…yeah, you made it…but a little over and you wouldn’t be here and I would’ve lost you” she felt a few tears slip, pulling herself away enough so that she could hold his hand. “You mean…so much to me, Daryl Dixon.”

The staring from said Dixon only continued and that couldn’t help the thought of crossing a line to flood Y/N’s mind. But before she could even think to pull away and head to her tent, Daryl pulled her in and pressed his lips firmly against hers…

[lilasamaaa]

A lapse in judgement | Carlos Sainz x Reader

Genre | Angst (of course), Hurt/Comfort, Fluff.

Word count | 3.8K

Warnings | Mention of sexual activities, rejection.

Summary | The long-awaited dinner with your in-laws doesn't go as planned... Will you and your boyfriend manage to change their minds about your relationship?

Author's note | I'm back, bitches! This lovely prompt was requested, thank you for the idea Anon! I hope you all like it, please let me know what you think! ✨ (not proofread lmao)

Being the new girlfriend after the one who got away fucking sucks. Even when your lover was the one to end things. It's quite something to be the girl after the one he was supposed to spend his life with. Get married with. Have kids with. You wouldn't wish anyone to be in your place. Yet, here you are, all because you fell in love with him. Carlos Sainz. Him and his doe eyes. His impeccable hair. His charming smile. Frankly, you didn't stand a chance.

You knew who he was, of course. Formula 1 is among your fondest childhood memories, sitting in front of the TV with your siblings and parents. Each Grand Prix was a household event, and you could never bring yourself to part with the Ferrari-colored jacket you wore every race Sunday. It's been years since you've fit into it, but the memory is too precious. So, yes, you knew who he was. And you recognized him immediately when he walked through the door of your workplace, sunglasses perched on his nose.

You don't follow Formula 1 as closely as before. Just enough to keep up with the news. You don't pretend not to know who he is. What's the point in pretending?

"Back from Monza already?" you ask, wiping your hands on a clean towel.

He smiles. A polite smile, but one that seems to indicate he's not keen on chatting. Or at least, not about that. You ask him what he'd like, and he asks for anything with soy milk in it. He orders two, to go, and you smile again. Okay, you think. Understood. The exchange lasts no more than two minutes, and soon, the driver exits the coffee shop, leaving behind a lingering woody scent.

Weeks pass without crossing paths with him again, and honestly, the encounter has completely slipped your mind. That one early morning, though, you're sitting at one of the café tables, contemplating new drinks, new recipes to implement based on some customer feedback, when the little bell chimes behind you. You definitely need to stop leaving the door open to let the floor dry after your morning cleaning session.

You turn around, ready to inform the friendly customer that the café doesn't open for another twenty minutes, when you catch his gaze.

"I know you're not open yet," he starts, putting both hands in front of him. "I saw the sign. But I really need some coffee, and all the other shops are closed."

"I suppose I can make an exception for such an emergency," you say as you rise from your seat, smiling kindly at him. "What can I get you?"

"I don't remember the name of what you made for me last time, but it was incredible. There was..."

"Soy milk?"

"Yeah."

"I'm on it," you say, turning around. "Two?" you ask, feeling like you already know the answer.

"Yes, please."

You hurry behind the bar, preparing the two coffees, and you place them in front of him a few seconds later. He takes out his phone to pay and places it on the terminal, which emits a soft "beep." Then, he picks up one of the coffees before sliding the second one towards you.

"This one's for you," he says, and you barely manage to hide your surprise.

"Oh," you say. "If I had known, I wouldn't have charged you for the second one."

"But it wouldn't have been the same, then. I wouldn't have offered it to you," the driver says, winking at you before taking a step back. "Thank you so much for the favor. Have a good day!"

With that, he's gone. As you sip your hot coffee slowly, you wonder when you'll see him again next time. But already, your employees arrive and pull you from your thoughts.

"That guy outside kinda looked like Carlos Sainz, no?" Lucia, one of them, asks while tying her apron.

"You've seen him? I thought so, too," you reply with a smile.

The next time you see him is the exact opposite. You've just bid your last employee a good evening, and you're putting the chairs up on the tables in preparation for the morning cleanup. A knock on the storefront makes you look up, and you smile when you see him. You open the door, and he slips inside, slightly damp from the light rain falling outside.

"Have you ever heard of opening hours?" you ask while wiping down the countertop.

"Can't say I have," he replies with a grin, the sight making your stomach flutter.

"I think congratulations are in order," you begin, throwing the towel over your shoulder. "That was a clean win in Singapore."

"Thank you. It might be a bit late for a coffee, but would you like to grab a drink with me?"

The proposition takes you by surprise.

"Like? Right now?"

"Yeah. Right now. I know a place not far from here."

"Aren't you afraid of being seen or something?" you ask, arching a brow.

"Never with beautiful women, no."

You chuckle, rolling your eyes. You've been living in Spain for ten years, yet you don't think you'll ever get used to the natural flirty nature of its inhabitants.

"Give me ten minutes to change and close up, and I'll join you," you say, while he nods, sitting on one of the bar stools.

Carlos takes you to a dancing bar, obviously run by friends since he spends five minutes shaking hands and greeting everyone as you enter. He leads you to the back of the bar, to a secluded corner where the music is much quieter, and you can actually have a conversation. You have no idea what to say. Where do you even start with a Formula 1 driver? Someone whose life is so different, so far removed from yours. Sensing your discomfort, Carlos takes the lead, asking you questions about your café, (Did you open it by yourself?) and about your life. (Where are you from? You have an accent).

The evening passes, and the drinks flow until you find yourselves tightly pressed together on the dance floor. Your back against his chest. His hands on your hips. Yours on his neck. Swaying to the rhythm of the music, all senses heightened. His lips don't take long to seek yours, and from the wall of the bar against which he pins you, you transition to his mattress, his warm body pressed against yours.

You don't sleep much that night. You don't know if you'll ever have the chance to see him again. To have him like that again. So, you lavish your lips on his, your body against his. And in the early morning, as you wake up entangled in each other's arms, and you almost expect him to kick you out... He climbs back on top of you instead, pressing warm kisses against your mouth, your collarbones, your navel... You arrive at the café thirty minutes late, with bags under your eyes. It's never happened before, and your employees are so surprised that none of them even think to joke about your poor state.

You don't hear a word from him for the next ten days. Occasionally, you glance at the app you downloaded, which informs you about upcoming races. You know he's in Qatar. You try not to let the little voice in your head win. The one that laughs at you. That tells you that you'll never see him again. He's working, you think. He's busy. Your life goes on, though you can't help but watch for him early in the morning and late at night, your eyes lingering on the storefront.

Then, one day, he comes back. Right in the middle of the shift. Seeing him walk into the café, Lucia lets out a scream and drops the cup she was holding. "Dios mio," she says, clutching her heart. Several seated customers turn around, but nobody seems to pay attention to the tall brunette with caramel eyes whose gaze is fixated on you, from across the counter.

"Soy milk?" you ask, trying to contain your smile.

"Yes, please. Only one."

And then, he starts coming every day. Every day he's not on the other side of the world, that is. By his seventh visit, Lucia can almost serve him his coffee without spilling any, her hands shaking so much.

Outside of the café, the two of you slowly start going to museums. To restaurants. To the cinema. But there's one place you both prefer. His bed. You spend hours there, exploring each other's bodies or talking about everything and nothing. Exchanging thousands of kisses or sharing your worst childhood embarrassments. Moaning against each other or talking about your very first pet. And one evening, as you were recounting how your respective parents had met, he asks you the question.

"Speaking of that, would you like to meet them?"

Your heart skips a beat. It's been six months since you've been seeing each other. Since you've been exclusive. Since you've been a couple, in reality, even if neither of you has dared to say the word. That one, and the other. The one that starts with an L. Even though you know you do... And you sense he does too.

"I don't know," you say, resting your head against his bare chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. "Have you talked to your family about us?"

"Of course," Carlos says, pressing a kiss to your head. "They know I've been seing someone. And they know it's serious."

"Do they even want to meet me?"

"They haven't asked, if that's your question," your boyfriend replies. "But they never have, with anyone. They know it's something I like to do at my own pace."

You nod, and a few minutes later, the fateful dinner is set for the following Saturday. Already, the ball of anxiety that has lodged itself in your stomach grows. And soon enough, you find yourself standing in front of the door of the imposing Sainz mansion, your throat tight and your hand sweaty in Carlos'.

"Relax," the driver says, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before stroking your thumb. "They're not that bad."

Carlos knocks on the door, and a young woman opens it before jumping into your boyfriend's arms. You recognize her instantly from the pictures in Carlos' phone. Blanca. As if pronouncing her name in your head had reminded her of your existence, Blanca turns her head, smiling politely in your direction.

"Nice to meet you," she says rather blankly before gesturing for you two to come inside.

You encounter his other sister, Ana, in the hallway a few seconds later. She isn't much warmer, not even offering a smile and simply saying "Welcome" before rushing to hug her brother. The reception from the two women surprises you a little, and doesn't really help you feel confident about the evening. Carlos doesn't seem phased by the situation, helping you out of your coat before guiding you to the living room where the two young women have already disappeared. You're about to walk through the door when your eyes stop on a series of frames hung across from the front door. Your heart skips a beat. Feeling you come to a halt, Carlos stops as well, following your gaze.

"Fucking hell," your boyfriend says before taking the frame off the wall and placing it upside down on the buffet below. "I'm sorry. This photo has been there for so long that they probably don't even notice it anymore," he adds, his tone apologetic.

You know he's trying to reassure you, but his words have the opposite effect. You've briefly talked about your exes. Well, more about his. Isa. The girl he was with for seven fucking years. The one his parents loved so much. Seeing a photo of them together right before meeting your in-laws is like a knife to the heart. A reminder that you're the new girl. The one replacing her. You muster a smile that you know is fake at Carlos before continuing on your way. As you arrive in the living room, his two parents stand up from the couch, rushing to their son to hug him.

The embraces last a few seconds, until they turn to you. You greet them politely, handing his mother a huge bouquet of flowers and his father a bottle of fine wine, as they thank you with strained smiles.

"I also brought chocolates from my shop for you," you continue, turning to his sisters sitting at the dining table. "They're from a small producer in Andalusia, a real treat..."

"How kind of you," Blanca says dryly.

You miss the glance that Carlos shoots his sister, behind you. A stern look. One that scream "be careful". One Blanca pretends not to see.

"Let's sit down," Carlos' mother announces, gesturing for everyone to take a seat.

Intimidated, you stick close to Carlos, sitting next to him. The table is beautiful, adorned with fine porcelain and various flowers. You smile as you spot silver napkin rings and pick up the one in front of you. Your next breath gets caught in your throat when your eyes land on the letters engraved in the metal. Isabel.

"Ah yes, sorry," Ana begins, following your gaze. "We didn't have time to make a new one. I hope you don't mind."

"It's fine," you say, looking up and smiling at her.

"So, dear, what do you do?" Carlos' father asks. "Carlos told us about a café, but we didn't quite understand."

"I opened my own café a few years ago. We also serve fresh pastries that I bake every morning. It's really taking off; I have several employees now, and I'm planning to open a second one soon..."

"Did you study culinary arts?" her mother asks.

"Uh, no, I don't have any degree," you reply with a nervous laugh. "School just wasn't my thing."

Ana and Blanca exchange a glance, and you lower your head, feeling your cheeks flush. You feel Carlos' hand on your thigh, and you cast him a grateful glance, which he doesn't see, his eyes fixed on his sisters.

"And so, the two of you met at the café, is that right?" his father resumes.

"Yes, that's right," you reply with a smile. "In May, the first time."

"In May?" Ana asks, looking at her brother. "Weren't you still with Isa?"

"Are we gonna mention her all night?" Carlos snaps.

"It's just a question, no need to get upset," Ana replies, rolling her eyes.

"Did you know who he was?" Blanca asks, holding your gaze.

"Uh, yeah, I recognized him. But I served him like any other customer," you recount.

"It must be weird," Ana continues, as your attention turns from her sister to her. "To see a celebrity walk into your little café."

"It's actually not so little," Carlos says. "It's pretty well-known in Madrid. Lots of customers."

"Never been," Blanca says curtly.

Carlos's mother gestures for her daughters to follow her, and the three women disappear in the kitchen before returning a few minutes later with their hands full of various dishes.

"Carlos told us you love to eat," his mother continues, giving you a genuine smile. "It's good that he didn't choose a very slender girl, for once," she adds, as you tilt your head. Was that supposed to be a compliment?

"What are your plans after the café?" Carlos' father asks, chewing on a piece of chicken. "Now that this first project has worked out?"

"I beg your pardon?" you ask, genuinely confused.

"What are you going to do with your life now?" Ana asks.

"Well... I'm going to keep running the café? It's my sanctuary, my biggest project. I'm so proud of it, I'm not going to give it all up now."

"Oh," his father replies, eyeing you. "I'd understood it was temporary. That you were a kind of investor."

"No," you reply, feeling your cheeks heat up again. "That's... That's what I do."

The silence falls over the table, punctuated by the clinking of utensils. After a short while, Carlos's mother clears her throat, meeting your gaze.

"Forgive our questions. We're curious to get to know the person Carlos shares his life with. You have to understand, after seven years... You always know what you've lost, but you can never know what you've gained."

"And that was quite a loss," Blanca chimes in, sipping on her wine.

"You can't trust anyone these days. You never know if they love you for you or for your wallet," Ana states, looking at her perfectly manicured nails.

"Or your contact list," Blanca adds, shooting a glance your way.

"Okay," Carlos suddenly says, throwing his napkin on the table before getting up. "That's enough. We're leaving."

"What?" you say, looking up at him.

"They're clearly not ready for this. We'll come back when they finally understand that my ex is just that - my ex. Get your things, love."

You stand up, feeling your legs tremble, as Carlos' hand find the small of your back, pushing you towards the hallway.

"Don't be ridiculous," his mother says, standing up as well. "You can't expect us to forget seven years just like that."

"I'm not asking you to forget. I'm asking you to respect my partner. But apparently, that's too difficult."

A few seconds later, Carlos is backing out of his parents' driveway, one arm around your seat, his gaze fixed on the rear window. In the passenger seat, you fidget with your fingers, staring at your hands and biting your lip nervously. His brows are furrowed. Jaw clenched. None of you exchange a word until you hit the main road, headlights from passing cars casting shadows on your faces.

"I'm so sorry," he finally says, stroking your thigh. "If I had known..."

"You couldn't," you reply, placing your hand on his. "I don't blame them. Seven years is no small thing."

Turning his head, his gaze meets yours.

"I won't pretend that those seven years didn't matter to me, that they meant nothing. Even though I don't have any romantic feelings for her anymore, she will always be a part of me in some way," he says, as you feel your heart tighten in your chest. "But she no longer occupies my thoughts. She's no longer imprinted under my eyelids. It's not her fingers that give me chills, her voice that makes my heart race. All day long, I think about you. I talk about you. Even at night, I dream of you. You're right beside me, so close, and yet it's not enough. You still find a way to get closer, to flow through my veins, to infiltrate every breath, every heartbeat."

"Sometimes I wish I could see myself through your eyes. That girl sounds exceptional," you say, laughing as you wipe the tears from the corners of your eyes."

"She's quite something," he replies, eyes on the road. "I can't wait for them to realize."

After the disastrous first encounter with your in-laws, over six months pass before Carlos comes join you on the terrace of your shared hotel room in Jeddah, placing a coffee in front of you. Bending down to sit beside you, the pilot winces, a hand on his stomach.

"Are you okay?" you ask, running your hand through his hair.

"I feel so fucking sick," your boyfriend says, a painful grimace on his face.

"Shouldn't you see a doctor, babe?" you ask, stroking his arm. "You look awfully pale. And you haven't eaten since yesterday morning."

"I can't keep anything down," Carlos replies, throwing his head back before closing his eyes.

"Carlos Sainz Vázquez de Castro," you start, earning a small grin from your boyfriend.

"I just love when you call me that."

"There's no way you're getting in that car tomorrow," you insist.

You didn't think you'd be so right. Well, not to this extent. Hurrying through the corridors of the hospital, two large aluminum trays in each hand, you dodge doctors and nurses along the way, weaving through visitors until you reach the door marked with the number you're looking for. You knock on the door, slipping inside before turning around to close it behind you.

"I wasn't sure what you'd prefer, so I got both," you begin, still facing the door, handle in hand. "The paella was quite easy to find, but I admit I had to cross the entire city for..." your sentence dies in your throat when, turning around, your eyes meet those of your mother-in-law. Then your father-in-law's. And your two sisters-in-law, crowded in Carlos' small hospital room.

"Oh," you utter, eyes wide. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know you'd be there. I'll leave you alone," you start, turning around once again.

"No! Stay," Carlos' mother says, rising to take the trays from you.

"We're really happy to see you again," his father says, rising as well to embrace you. "Carlos was telling us how well you took care of him. Thank you so much for being there."

"That's the least I could do," you reply, feeling intimidated. "He would have done the same for me."

"I may love you, but I'm not sure I would have slept in that armchair. Or changed your blood-soaked bandage," Carlos replies, eyes half-closed, still under the influence of anesthesia.

"You did what?" Blanca asks, turning to look at you, eyes wide.

"Well, his nurse was busy and it started leaking," you shrug.

"You slept here?" his father asks.

"They wouldn't let me at first, but I didn't feel like leaving him alone in a foreign hospital."

"She annoyed the staff so much they just gave up on throwing her out," your boyfriend lets out in a laugh.

"I didn't annoy anybody," you reply quickly, fearing what his family might think.

"You threatened an intern to tie yourself to the chair."

"I didn't do that," you half-laugh, shooting your boyfriend a warning look.

Seated on the side of Carlos' bed, bickering with your boyfriend while running your hand through his hair in a loving gesture, you don't see the glance exchanged between the Sainz family.

"We were thinking about something, before you arrived..." Ana begins, her eyes finding yours. For the first time, you're not met with her harsh, cold gaze, but with gentle eyes. "We have a family house in Mallorca. We thought it would be nice to all go there together, so Carlos can recover in peace. We would be very happy if you joined us."

"It'll be a chance for us to get to know you. And to apologize for our pathetic behavior last time."

"Carlos chose you," his mother starts, smiling warmly at you. "And we all understand why."

You could cry with happiness at the thought of finally being accepted, being welcomed into the family of the person you've shared your life with for almost a year now. At no longer being the new girl. The one after the love of his life.

At the though of maybe, simply being the one.

The real one, this time.