#if I run out of meds before it’s fixed

[feralgremlinchild]

Just spent the past hour crying. That’s the first time I’ve let myself cry for more than twenty minutes in over a year. Normally I’d talk to someone, but i only have two friends and I don’t hear from them often these days. Even then, only one of them is the kind of person I can talk to about heavy things. If I just stopped responding, I’m not sure either of them would notice. Haven’t talked to one of them since July. At this point I think it would be easier to just have no friends. Having no one to talk to would be easier than messaging someone and not hearing back for a week. I’m spending most days visiting my mother in the neuro rehab facility anyway. She’s been in hospital and neuro rehab for a month now. I spend a minimum of 4 hours every day with her, 8 hours if I don’t have any appointments. We talk more and more about things, so it’s not like I’ll be alone. I’m never alone anymore, not really, always someone needing my attention at home too. I’ve been prioritizing my mother and my niece and the dogs and doing whatever I need to do or am asked to do. Pushing any personal thoughts aside for an entire month. They’re starting to creep through in quiet moments. I daydream as much as possible but sometimes the quiet comes anyway. Once a week I let myself have a thought or two. Even in therapy twice a week, I speak about things but I don’t feel them. I’m just providing information. I’m not attached to it. My therapist is letting me keep this up for now bc I’m somehow not feeling like hitting the eject button on life and eventually my mother will come home again. And then I can maybe let myself have thoughts regularly. This post right here is the most I’ve allowed myself to think in weeks. Everyone keeps telling me how great I am and how helpful and sweet and wonderful and the good daughter and calling me a blessing and thoughtful. And I don’t feel it. I’m just doing things that are needed. I am detached from most of them. Am I still a good person if I’m just doing what needs to be done? We’ve all got jobs to do. I’m not doing it to be thoughtful or sweet, I’m doing it bc it will help or fix a problem or make my mother feel better. I sat through a two hour meeting with cps because I was asked by my mother to be there bc I’d provide an idea of stability and make the family look better by answering the social workers questions in a way that made the family look good without outright lying. I wear so many hats that I’ve forgotten what it is to just be myself with no obligations for five minutes. And tomorrow I need to represent my family at the usual Sunday family lunch at my grandparents house, after which I will be heading straight to spend the afternoon and evening with my mother. Plus all the household stuff, and play with my niece when she gets back from her dad’s. My poor dogs barely get to see me. Oh and my insurance runs out tomorrow officially so I will have no insurance until I can get it all sorted with the taxes.

[focsle]

I just wanna help my dang cat I’m so stressed about her!!!

[mccncutter]

:)

[arctic-hands]

Getting your payment a day early but being unable to pay rent that's due tomorrow because your phone is in the repair shop for who knows how long (they closed today still having my phone) and your bank's site never works on your desktop for some reason

[sizablelad]

actually amazed at myself for the fact that i got basically everything i needed to do done this week. it was hella busy and i'm EXHAUSTED, but i wrapped up my school work, prepped for going abroad for 3 months, packed up my entire room so my mom can move while i'm gone, mailed things i've been procrastinating on sending for a hella long time, got all the professional clothes i didn't have for the internship, and had time to vacation with my mom in mtl and spend time with my dad and do a whole passover in nj. everybody clap.

[iicarused]

##let us adore you

jeff the killer x reader / eyeless jack x reader / ticci toby x reader / UNEDITED

synopsis: general headcanons in which how you met them

beware: DARK THEMES / yandere traits, stalking, implied manipulation, mentions of murder &&* gore //: if there is any that i missed, please let me know !

envelope from the author: masky, hoodie, and kate chaser will be pt 2 of this:)

JEFF THE KILLER

he met you at a convenience store, how funny. this man planned on killing the cashier, take the cash and leave a meal for his cannibal friend out back, then hop to the next town over. yet, you walked through the aisles of the store at the dark of the night. do you know what kind of creeps are out here at this hour?

he waited for you to leave before he got the job done. you should feel relieved, you should feel like the most luckiest person in the world and it’s because he spared you.

“no, i’m staying back.” he would tell his eyeless friend. “it’s my business to know and for you to fuck off,” he’d argue. “i have a… dilemma.” jeff confessed. for someone he only caught a glimpse of, for a voice he only heard a faint whisper from, he didn’t know whether to stay just for you or to leave while he can.

you were a plague in his mind, because he searched for you. it took three days at most to finally find the dorms you stayed in, and another three to know your roommates schedule. everyone in the area was shaken from the murder, everything including you. but why?

he could not understand why you would lock your windows and double check if the door was locked. both of you lived in a secured building where security littered the grounds and constantly checked ID. jeff would know, he stole a carbon copy of himself (in terms of dressing style) just to make sure of your safety on campus.

“hey, watch it!” jeff barked at the random who sped by you. he fixed his mask and came to your aid, a gloved hand coming over yours to help you up from the grass.

“oh, they’re probably just late to class,” you breathed. “it’s fine, but thank you.”

through the thin lens of his sunglasses, jeff drank in your appearance. “they could’ve bumped you on to the curb side — it really ain’t, sweetheart.” you smell great by the way.

“but they didn’t.” you finally looked at him and smiled. “are you a med student?”

you’re so sweet. so pure, and he wanted to corrupt that. he wanted to see those pretty doe eyes flutter up at him like that again, for the sweetness behind your gaze was enough for him to melt. he wants you, no, he needs you.

EYELESS JACK

you were a curious one, a little too curious in this scenario. a detective in a case of which you were to figure out why bodies were missing organs — or why people were waking up with soreness to their abdomen to only find a stitched up wound.

you took this case as an eager detective who wanted to solve the biggest mystery of north america — but you felt as if you just signed your life away. in the next eight victims that fell to their demise, you made notes of when and where it occurred. it would not be until a night after talking with the sheriff and little too much rum, you found something.

to your horror, the first letter of every street spelled something. two words that nearly sent you running if it weren’t for something stopping you from leaving

“found you.” his voice was a gentle whisper, and almost incoherent if it weren’t for the dead silence in the room. you dared not turn but you felt if you didn’t, it would come closer.

the pistol is on your desk and you’re ready to make a ruckus for anyone on the street to hear. “what? was this just some silly little game for you to show me you could spell?” there were only two regrets you had in your entire life.

the first regret was that you wished you never lied to your mother of who broke the plate that was on the floor. the second regret was turning around and facing a being that was too intricate for you to understand.

“i like playing with my food.” he replied before lunging at you.

you made it out alive — but at the cost of remembering how those sockets were nothing but a void. the liquid that cried on to your face when he was on top of you, and that second, you took your pen and stabbed his side. — but that encounter made you more determined than before

this case turned into a game of cat and mouse, and neither of you know who is cat or who is the mouse. chasing each other became a source of entertainment, and conversations ensued between physical fights

he never intended on killing you, oh no. you were too… fun. the chatting, the hunting each other, the thrill of it all made him go crazy. with time, maybe he can finally sink his teeth into your skin without the murder aspect. he just wants to taste you.

TICCI TOBY

your name appeared on the file of people to “take care of.” why? he doesn’t know and quite frankly, he cannot care. you were just another name on the list that needed to be gone.

he would not lie that it took him ages to find you. the town you were supposedly at was a total flunk, and when he told the boss, he was told to figure it out. at this rate, he wanted you gone for the sake of his own sanity. yet, after a month and hopping two towns, he finally found you.

everything he had on file sprouted nothing but lies because you were a doll, quiet literally if he fixated on your skin. he watched the way you moved and the way you made it seem effortless to walk on two feet. he often tripped over his when gawking over you. your scent is just how he imagined it when he peered over your sleeping form.

you made him forget why he was in search of you in the first place. toby fantasized a lot about you: your curves, your voice, your walk, your life. he often daydreamed of it when watching from afar, especially when you went through mundane tasks such as grocery shopping. the only time he remembered why he was told to end you was when he questioned why you were such a threat.

turns out you were friends of a friend who was a foe to his boss — the eyeless man. he made it no secret when in turn he went to find jack, but he didn’t expect to meet you so soon! oh, this is way too soon, how does he look? is it okay, this setting isn’t the right place, i mean, you were supposed to be

“toby? just toby? that isn’t quiet threatening for a man like that, isn’t it?” you werent speaking towards him, but instead asking jack who snorted in return.

you were a prize on the shelf, and toby wanted to keep you behind glass doors. “listen — pal, friend — how about we make a deal.”

while jack couldn’t see it, your gaze was locked with toby’s the entire time. there was something behind them, something that you couldn’t quite place. you weren’t sure whether if it was a good or bad thing considering the work you found yourself in.

“i give you a useful warning from a boss, and i... tag a long sometimes.”

[ghostsangel]

Can I be greedy and maybe ask for a little more plus size reader x ghost? I love it so much! Maybe one where she's a new medic or therapist on base? All the soldiers giver her shit cos of her size? I'm sorry if this is greedy feel free to say no I just looooove your writing 😍

you asked and i will always deliver!!!

simon “ghost” riley x plus-size!reader

tags/warnings: mdni, fatphobia, oral (f receiving), body worship, implied sex, ghost is a fuckin’ softie

Your new job is making you want to scream.

Sure, you’ve been a doctor for years, and an army doc for the past two, but the job isn’t making you want to yell into the void—it’s the men.

Who knew that being a plus-size female was a crime? Apparently, that’s what the men on her new base think when they look at her. She can hear the whispers as she passes in her scrubs—“New doc should take her own advice and get on a diet,” “I thought the military had a weight limit? Guess I was wrong,” “Think if we asked her to run a lap she’d puke first?”

The berating is hard to ignore. Your size has always been a touchy subject for you, even all through college and med school. Your tummy is too large, accompanied by thick thighs and flabby arms that you have come to hate. But according to your doctor, you’re perfectly healthy. Your labs always come back perfect, and you exercise regularly—running, stretching, lifting weights. The weight is just hard to come off.

Today has been particularly hard—two of the soldiers you worked on had given you snide remarks about your weight as you fixed them up, and it had taken all of you not to cry before you were finished stitching their wounds closed.

You exhale as you rip your gloves off and toss them in the trash, turning around to put your hands on the steel countertop, trying to support yourself. You want to scream, but your pity party is interrupted by a gruff voice behind you.

“Am I interruptin’?”

You jump, startled, before turning around to see another soldier in front of you. This one you know. Simon Riley, aka Ghost. You’ve seen him around base the short time you’ve been here, and he’s always intimidated you. Tall, muscular, always has that mask on. You swallow as you look up at him, shaking your head.

“No, are you okay? How can I help you?” You ask, brushing the few strands of loose hair behind your ear.

Ghost clears his throat, eyes boring into yours from behind his mask. “Just checkin’ on you. I’ve heard whispers about you all over base.”

Your cheeks flame, and you feel hot all over. The sentence makes you nervous and angry—you hate that you’re the talk of the base.

“Come to add to the array of fat jokes I’ve been getting?” You ask bitterly, crossing your arms over your stomach.

Ghost squints his eyes, shaking his head. “No. I came to tell ya not to let the comments bother you.”

You knit your brows, peering into his eyes. “That’s hard when I feel like shit because of the other soldiers here.”

“Don’t listen to them.” Ghost takes a large step toward you, but you don’t move away, as nervous as he makes you. “Nothin’ wrong with the way you look.”

Your cheeks are still hot, and you bite on the inside of your cheek. “You mean that?”

His gaze darkens, and you swear you see him smile under the mask. “Sweetheart, just lookin’ at ya makes my imagination run wild.”

His comment takes you aback, and you struggle to find a response, too flustered to think. “What—I—what?”

He chuckles, taking another step forward, a gloved hand reaching out to run a finger down your cheek. “I said…lookin’ at ya makes my mind race. Thinkin’ of all the things I wanna do with you…”

His touch makes you shiver and you blink up at him. His fingertips run over your side to your ass, giving the flesh a hearty squeeze, a laugh slipping past his lips when you squeal.

“Come on, doll. Lemme worship that body of yours. Y’look like a fuckin’ goddess.”

Your mouth hangs open and you struggle to process his words. Instead of speaking, you nod, heat flaring in your tummy leading down to between your thighs. Ghost wastes no time, pulling the mask up to his nose and leaning down, kissing you hungrily and pressing your body against his. His cock is already hard against your tummy, and you moan when his tongue licks along your bottom lip, demanding entry.

You oblige, his tongue sliding along yours as he tugs at the bottom of your scrubs, discarding them quickly. Your shirt is next, revealing the black bra you wear underneath. You blush furiously, but Ghost wastes no time in feeling up your tummy and breasts, his tongue moving down your neck to your chest.

He unhooks your bra with one hand, the other discarding the fabric as your breasts fall loose. Gravity isn’t kind to them—they’re not perky, they’re large, nipples pointed to the ground, but Ghost doesn’t give two shits as his two large gloved hands grasp them and squeeze.

Your back arches and you muffle a whine when his tongue flicks out to swirl around your hardened peak, the fingertips of his hand playing with the other one—pinching, pulling, squeezing. It’s enough to flood your panties, and you look down at him as he plays your body like a fiddle.

“Fuck, I—” You groan out, your hands gripping the steel countertop behind you.

His lips travel lower and lower, pressing soft kisses to your skin—breasts, tummy, hips. Ghost looks up at you from underneath his mask as he tugs your panties down, revealing your slick cunt.

“Fuckin’ perfect,” he groans, licking his bottom lip as his hands travel up to squeeze your breasts. He pushes your thighs apart and wastes no time in licking up your pussy to your clit, your eyes fluttering shut.

He looks like a god on his knees in front of you, eyes boring into yours, tongue swirling and mouth sucking on your clit. He rolls your nipples between his fingers and you cry out at the pleasure, cunt already quivering and he’s barely touched you.

“Come on, sweetheart, gimme that cum. You taste so bloody perfect; could eat this cunt for hours.”

His talk makes your mouth drop open, and you tilt your head forehead to take in the sight of him. His cheeks are flushed, mask rolled up to his nose. He’s panting against your cunt as his tongue licks around your clit before fucking into your tight hole, soft groans leaving him.

It’s the sight of him, so lost in your body, that makes you come. You cry out, legs trembling, pussy throbbing around his tongue as his thumb moves to work your clit. He grins up at you like a mad man, juices coating his chin, tongue out and running over your slit once more.

“Fuckin’ perfect,” he murmurs, kissing your clit before standing up. His hands roam your soft curves, squeezing your ass and the flesh of your belly before they move to cup your face.

“Come find me tonight,” he mutters, tilting your head up to look at him. “Wanna do that again, feel you come on my cock.”

You’re speechless, still panting and shaking, but you nod. He smirks, lowering the mask before dressing you again, making sure everything is in place before kissing your forehead.

“I’ll see you tonight, doll.”

After that night, with Ghost by your side, the comments stop. What you didn’t know was that Ghost threatened to disembowel anyone that spoke against his girl.

[reidmania]

hi! i’d love a spencer bath/shower comfort fic

pebble proposal | Spencer reid

summary; when sick and sore, Spencer is there to wash away all your pain.

warnings; bathing together, not in a sexual way, talks of proposals but at the very end; mentions being sick, no specific gender mentioned but he does wash your hair and it kinda references longer hair.?? This is just a really really comforting fic tbh its all sweet and fluffy

an/ There wasn’t much detail in this request so i hope i did it justice, but if not feel free to let me know and request again in more detail of what you want so i can get it as close to perfect for you as possible!!

your body ached as you walked up the stairs of your apartment complex, you could feel your muscles tightening with every painful step you took. You felt like your knees were going to give out on you any moment.

Your hands fumbled with your keys, trying to find the one to your apartment as you approached the door. You felt your head throb as the jingle of the keys clashing together ran through your ears.

Work sucked — there was no better way to put it. Everything was going wrong, papers were put in the wrong spot, things were going missing, you found yourself running around all day trying to fix things and clean up after your coworkers — all while sick.

You knew you were getting sick as much as you tried to ignore it, you were coughing and blowing your nose every five minutes — the headache that didn’t go away no matter how many pain meds you took wasn’t helpful either.

All you wanted to do was curl up in one of Spencer’s hoodies and lay in bed for the entirety of the weekend

The minute the door closed behind you as you stepped into the apartment, your back was pressed against it. Your eyes closed tightly as a heavy sigh left your mouth, melting into the warmth of your home.

“Angel?” Your eyes snapped open to see Spencer staring at you, concern lacing his features. Your lips parted slightly — you didn’t know he would be home, as far as you were concerned he was supposed to be away on a case for the next few days.

“Hi” You murmured tiredly as you dropped your bag to the floor. You wanted nothing more than to walk over and bury yourself in his grasp — but even just the idea of walking just a couple of steps made the ache more.

He opened his mouth to talk before he was cut off by you bursting into a coughing fit, instantly bringing your arms up to cough into the elbow. He frowned.

“Are you sick honey?” He asked, taking a few steps towards you once your coughing relaxed. You sighed again, nodding.

“Why are you home” You asked as he wrapped his arms around your body, you instantly sunk into his embrace, his hand slipping under your shirt to rub your back gently. “Easy case, we got done early” He said softly.

“Im gonna get you sick” You muttered into his shirt, making him hum. You knew about his hypersensitivity to germs. He didn’t say anything or pull away from you, he stayed right in place, holding you comfortably against him.

“Are you hungry?” He asked, you shook your head. The idea of eating right now made you feel nauseous. “I don’t t think I can move” You said. Everything about your tone showed how exhausted you were — not just physically.

“Sore baby?” He cooed slightly, pulling away from the hug to get a look at your face. You nodded as a frown adorned your lips.

“How about I run you a nice warm bath yeah? The steam will help you feel better and the hot water will help your muscles relax” He said, hand falling out of your shirt, making you instantly miss the warmth it provided.

You agreed, letting him wrap his arms around your waist to pick you up — normally you would argue and tell him to put you down, but you couldn’t fine the energy to, one ; argue. Two; walk if he wasn’t carrying you.

He placed you on the bathroom counter, letting you press your back against the wall as he ran the bath, he ran his hand under the water checking the temperature before adjusting it slightly and letting it run.

He lit a few candles, each a basic simple scent that was easy on the senses, as well as setting up the diffuser, you watched him grab the peppermint drops, making you shake your head. “I dont want peppermint” You muttered.

“Yeah? Peppermint helps reducing coughs and throat infections so it might help you feel better” He said softly, not really pressuring you to use it — moreso encouraging you with factual information.

“What does lavender do?” You asked. He chuckled, grabbing the lavender essentials oil out. “Well, lavender could also be good. It helps relieve stress and fatigue, can help with headaches, eucalyptus is good too” He said softly, hand placed on your knee.

“We don’t have eucalyptus” You murmured, he nodded, “We don’t” He confirmed, looking over the essential oils the two of you had. you remembered you had used it all when Spencer was last sick, he was picky about which essential oils he wanted.

“Lavender or peppermint?” He asked, now knowing the information of what each did, you half smiled. “Lavender” Your answer didn’t change.

He chuckled as he continued setting up the bath after dropping the oils into the diffuser. After that while waiting for the bath to finish filling up — Spencer stood between your legs, arms wrapped around your waist, just hugging you.

It was nice.

You were half asleep when he turned off the tap, helping you down from the counter and helping you undress — you instantly sighed as you felt the warm water over your body.

You could see the steam from the condensation it left on the bathroom mirror. Spencer didn’t leave the bathroom as his hands rested softly on your shoulders as you sat up in the bath.

“That okay?” He asked, you did nothing more than nod, letting the warm water rush away the tightness in your body as you let out a soft sigh of content.

“Can you come in with me?” You asked, lifting your head to look up at him, he was standing behind you. His eyebrows clocked softly before he nodded — how could he say no.

He undressed himself before sinking in the bath behind you, his legs on either side of you as you rested between his legs — he was glad the apartment had a large bath.

Your back was resting against his chest as your head fell onto his shoulder, closing your eyes. He smiled softly to himself as he lifted his arm behind him to grab the body wash and your loofah.

You hardly noticed what he was doing as you laid, just appreciating the comfort of his body against yours and the warm water until you felt the slight cold pressed against your shoulders as he began running the loofah over your skin.

His pressure was so gently as he began washing your body, “Sit up a bit angel” He muttered quietly, you did so without question. Letting his hand gently lead the loofah over your back, arms and shoulders before it wrapped around your body gently, rubbing over your collarbones gently, then over your chest with nothing but sweetness in his touch.

“I missed you” You said quietly.

He smiled — you couldn’t see it but you could hear it in his tone. “I missed you too, so much” He said. He grabbed the small plastic cup the two of you kept on the side of the bath, filling it with water before gently pouring it over your shoulders and back — washing away the soap.

Once the soap had been washed away. His hands reached out for the shampoo. “Spence?” You said softly, making him turn his head to find you looking at him with tired eyes, making his head ache in his chest — wanting nothing more than to take away all the bad in your life and keep it for himself, he would be fine with it all as long as he had you.

“Yeah angel?” He said softly, squeezing shampoo into his hands gently, before making a ‘come here’ motive with his finger, which you obliged to, turning your head back around as you shuffled backwards slightly closer to him.

“Can you talk” You asked.

He hummed, “About what baby?“ He asked as his hands began massaging the shampoo into your scalp gently. you shrugged as your head subconsciously leaned back into his touch. “Anything— I just wanna listen to you talk.” You said.

He smiled fondly, he continued massaging the shampoo into your hair. “When an adelie and gentoo male penguin falls in love with a female” He started softly, grabbing the cup filling it with water as he tapped the top of your head softly, encouraging you to lean your head back, which you did.

“He will search the entire land to find the smoothest rock he possible can” He tipped the water gently over your hair, hand pressed against your forehead lightly to stop water from getting into your eyes.

He refilled the cup and poured it over the ends of your hair — making sure the shampoo was completely washed out. “And he will give it to her as a proposal. Its called a pebble proposal” He said softly.

“Really?” You cooed softly.

“Really” He nodded, His hand left your hair briefly as he filled it with conditioner, before working it through your scalp and ends of your hair. “and If the female approves of the rock, they will began their pebble collection — which they call a pebble mound, in preparation for their eggs” He said.

He washed out the conditioner from your hair softly, before wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you gently to his chest. “Well If you ever propose, i expect a perfectly smooth pebble” You joked softly, your eyes closing as your head returned to its original place on his shoulder.

He chuckled as he turned his head pressing a soft kiss to the side of yours. “When I propose”

You hummed in confusion, “Hm?”

“You said If i propose, as if theres a chance of it not happening.” He said gently into your ear, “When I propose; you will get a perfectly smooth pebble and a perfect ring.” He muttered, finger tip drawing lines up and down your stomach gently, sending light ripples through the water.

You smiled. “Okay, When you propose”

[httpdwaekki]

cozy | l.f.

summary: cuddlin w lixie <3

wc: 542

warnings: none! gn!reader

a/n: happy lixie day!! tbh i’m exhausted and life has been so busy but i needed to do something for my favorite sunshine on his special day <33. but i will be putting out a longer fic for him because he deserves it :3. i hope you all enjoy, remember to eat, drink water and take your meds, ily <3

p.s. i will be making an extended version of this bc i love it so much, okay love u bye

my library | fundraiser

(pictures are not mine! credit to owners!)

“honey, i’m home!” you hear a familiar voice call out.

you smile instantly, excited your favorite aussie chick was home. “hi bubba! i’m in the bedroom!” you call back, staring at the door in anticipation. you hear him place his things down before breaking into a sprint.

you hear his happy giggles as he makes his way down the hallway. the freckled boy appears in the doorway, slightly out of breath with a bright smile on his face. he takes in your appearance, you’re cuddled up in the middle of all his plushies, a big soft blanket swallowing you whole.

you looked so cozy.

you take your arms from under the fluffy fabric, stretching them

in front of you, making grabby hands towards him. he giggles as he runs to you, leaping on top of you, wrapping his arms around you as best he could.

you wrap your arms around him as he shoves his face into your neck, relaxing into you. “hi sweet boy.” you giggle, placing a kiss to his hair, leaning your head against his.

“hi angel.” he mumbled into your skin. your cheeks warm at the pet name, never getting used to him calling you them. you gently rub his back, softly running your nails against him, the fabric of his shirt acting as a layer between him and you.

he sighs against your skin, “that feels nice.” he mumbles, relaxing further into you. you slip your hands under his shirt, lightly rubbing and scratching his soft skin.

he nuzzles his head, a soft cat-like grin appears on his face, feeling content. “i love you so much.” you smile, wrapping your arms around his torso, pulling him impossibly closer.

“i love you too, more than you know.” you kiss the side of his head before giving him a soft pat on his butt. “alright come pretty boy, let’s get you washed up.” he whines, tighten his arms around you.

“nooo i wanna cuddle.” you could practically hear the pout in his voice. you chuckle before patting it again, “and we can cuddle after, come on, let’s get you comfy. “fine.” he huffs, pushing himself up to straddle your hips before he stops and looks at you suspiciously.

“what?” you ask, tilting your head slightly, placing your hands on his thighs. “where’s bbokari?” he huffs, folding his arms, pouting. you smile at him before you reach into your blanket, pulling out the (now flatten) yellow plushie.

“i was laying on her!!??” he exclaimed, grabbing the flat bbokari, fixing her. “what did you think you were laying?” you giggled at his frantic movements. “i just assumed it was the blanket!” he finally fixed the small chick, letting out a sigh of relief.

“see! look she looks good as new!” he gives you a side eye before giving the plush a kiss, moving off your lap. “yah! what am i getting the side eye for? i didn’t lay on her!” you sit up and watch as he squints, walking to the bathroom.

“yah! what the hell! felix!” you yell hearing his giggles from the other room. you get up to chase after him before helping him get comfy, spending the rest of the night, cuddled in bed watching his favorite show.

do not copy or repost

[cultofdixon]

Double Trouble

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • It was only supposed to be one baby, but life carries plenty of surprises • SFW/Smol ANGST • TW: Pregnancy & Birth / Multiples Pregnancy Anxiety / Sleep Deprivation / Nausea & Vomiting / Injuries

Requested by: Anon

“You sure you don’t wanna come?”

“Yeah, I’ll join you on the next one babe”

Daryl hesitated at the door waiting for any sign from her to have him either stay home with her or for her to change her mind and join him on his run. But the smile Y/N carried reassured him not to worry about leaving.

“Okay…if anythin’ just. Get Rick to radio me, yeah?” He asks as she brought herself over for a hug and to plant a kiss on his lips.

“I will. Be safe okay?” Y/N smiles letting Daryl sneak in another kiss as an ‘I will’ to her words before heading out.

The second the door closed with the archer on the other side of it, Y/N went from standing still to sprinting upstairs. She stumbled a bit and managed to run into the wall from not entering the bathroom door smoothly.

Which resulted in a frozen moment before finally going into the bathroom slowly and shutting the door behind her. Y/N hesitantly approached the counter reaching for the test she had taken prior to him leaving.

“Oh shit…”

As the day went by fast, Daryl couldn’t have been more happy to come home after a boring run. He didn’t get too far into the community for Rick to stop him.

“Hey, how’d the run go?”

“It was boring”

“I would assume so” Rick laughs, resting his hands on his hips. “You were only delivering meds to the Hilltop and then their seedlings to the Kingdom. Which reminds me how’s Hershel Jr? Get to hold him?”

“Rick. You’re askin’ a lot. Are you trying to get me to avoid somethin’ or are you struggling to get what you really wanna ask out of yea?”

“Uh. Y/N has been acting squirrel-y around here since you’ve left in the morning. I wanted to radio you to see if you knew anythin’ but like. She still did help with the projects we’ve got going around the community so I don’t know why she was all over the place”

“Thanks for lettin’ me know…” Daryl started his bike back up and rode the rest of the way to his and Y/N’s.

The sound of the garage door closing alerted Y/N as she quickly pulls herself away from the kitchen fixing her dress. It was new, well new to her but still very new and she didn’t know how to wear it or contain her excitement for something she needs Daryl to come through the door to see.

“Love, are you doing al—-“ Daryl stops in front of her, instantly noticing the beautiful floral dress on her before taking in the smell of dinner that was made. “You’ve been busy…” he brought himself close as his eyes trailed her person while his hands placed themselves firmly on her hips. “Did I miss something?”

“No?”

“You sure? I don’t deserve all of this” Daryl eventually brought his arms around her waist, instantly bringing her pressed against him. Y/N gave him a bit of an annoyed look given he was dirty from killing a few walkers and the obvious dirt picking up from his bike to land on him. “Sorry sunshine I should’ve cleaned up before I ruined your dress…”

“Well once you have the meal I prepared you…you’re gonna want to have dessert after and this dress isn’t going to matter” Y/N smirks watching his gaze glue to hers as that excited him. “But please. Do enjoy what I cooked for you first before we get to anything”

“I will” Daryl smiles warmly to her, kissing her lovingly before parting to see what was prepared which was venison. But he hesitated from taking a seat to pick up what was set neatly on the corner of the dining table.

The tension filled the room as it only brought Y/N’s anxiety to the surface making her pull at her fingers waiting for any kind of reaction from Daryl.

That’s when she froze to the sound of sniffles making her instinctively go to Daryl resting her hand on his back indicating for him to look at her. He turned toward her with tears in his eyes looking back down at the pregnancy test in his hands before back to her.

“Yeah?”

Y/N started to nod as the tears formed when his smile did, reassuring her that it was indeed a good thing. Daryl brought his arms around his woman holding her as they sobbed over the good news.

“We’re having a baby” Y/N laughs out a sob feeling Daryl tighten around her gently.

“We’re having a baby…” He whispers continuing to hold her as they remained like that for a long time.

Thanking the universe for opening this door after the Savior’s War…even if they weren’t prepared for the intensity of it all

First Trimester

Daryl sat on the tile floor gently rubbing circles on Y/N’s back as she had her head practically glued into the toilet. He would relax one second and tense up when she would vomit.

Eventually, Y/N stopped for a bit but had no energy to leave the coolness of the tile floor. She told him he doesn’t have to sit with her if she wasn’t expelling her stomach. But Daryl wasn’t going anywhere and told her to lay her head in his lap until she was ready to get up.

“Can we stay here all day?”

“If you’d like” Daryl chuckles, continuing to rub soothing circles on her back. “You ready to tell people?”

“Mhm…You can tell whoever you want”

“Really? You don’t have anybody you don’t want me telling and rather you do it?”

Y/N pondered it for a bit before flinching to the sound of a door shutting and such caused Daryl to flinch. “Did you call somebody?”

“No…No I didn’t” Daryl gently moved her off of his lap as she instantly went to being curled up on the floor while he went to investigate the noise.

But his anxieties instantly washed away when he saw Siddiq hesitantly roaming around his living room.

“You need something?”

“I was gonna knock but Rick said just to come in and I thought that was uh…weird. But anyway, he told me Y/N wasn’t feeling well and we found some nausea medication on the last run” Siddiq cautiously handed Daryl the bottle as he was still getting used to being around a lot of people since Carl brought him in. “Do you…uhm have any questions about it? Before you give them to her?”

Daryl read the label in hopes it would tell him the obvious, but it would also be stupid of him if the doctor in the community doesn’t know.

“Would it affect the baby?”

Siddiq seemed to connect the dots instantly to the she’s been vomiting for a few days description Rick gave him. “Your baby should be fine” he smiles warmly, happy for the good news his new friends have.

“You can’t tell anybody til we do”

“I figured” He laughs. “I will suggest having check ups. Monthly is ideal and we only have a fetal doppler which only detects the heartbeat…I heard that the hilltop has an actual machine if you ever want to schedule to be checked there”

“I appreciate it Siddiq…I’ll let Y/N know” Daryl shot him a smile before heading back upstairs as Siddiq let himself out.

Returning back upstairs to their bedroom, Daryl found Y/N climbing back into bed curling up in the warmth of the blankets now. He set the bottle on the table beside the bed before climbing in behind her and bringing her in his embrace.

“Mmm…who was it?”

“Siddiq. And he knows now…so whenever you’re ready you two can go get checked”

“You’ll come?”

“Ain’t ever leavin’ your side”

It’s been about three weeks before Daryl said anything to anyone because Y/N has been experiencing morning sickness to an extreme which was odd according to the book Siddiq found for them. Including his medical opinion but as long as she can still manage to have something to eat during the day he wasn’t too worried when he’d check on her.

“You sure about this?”

“Yes, I can go to the Hilltop with you. I just can’t ride with you…” Y/N pouts at Daryl through her body mirror watching him approach her wrapping his arms around her. He planted a few kisses to her shoulder then her neck to get a smile out of her. “Are you going to tell Rick when we head out?”

“Yeah. Or might wait til Hilltop. Dunno yet” Daryl says with a confused look on his face as he brought his hands under her shirt feeling exactly what he’s feeling. “You showing already?” He questions for her to pull away and lift her shirt over her belly turning to the side. “Well would you look at that”

“Were you a big baby?”

“I wouldn’t know. Merle just called me a blob when I was a baby…least that’s what I remember our mom sayin’”

“Mmm…I think I was. Maybe that’s why I’m showing already” Y/N continued to look at her belly smiling when Daryl brought his hand to rest on her bump. “Okay you make it look like nothing”

“Shut up” He laughs kissing her temple. “It’s everythin’. I’ll get your pack and meet yea downstairs”

Y/N playfully pouts again when he pulls away but stood in the mirror a bit longer admiring the life she’s creating out of the love of both of them. Her smile remaining.

Once the two grouped up with the others by Alexandria’s gates, Michonne being the observant person she can be noticed Y/N not get on Daryl’s bike and into the car Siddiq was taking. She instantly turned to her partner asking if he might know.

“She probably got tired of the bike”

“Are you serious? Are we talking about the same Y/N that loves the night drives on the bike with Daryl?” Michonne gave him a questioning look as Rick shrugged. “Go ask why she’s not riding with him”

“You can! Why do I—-“

“I will.” Michonne made her way to Daryl and instantly questioned him.

Rick watches as Michonne approaches Daryl to ask him why his partner isn’t riding with him. He instantly shot up when Michonne started to show her worry in her face before smiling big when Daryl finally said it. He even gave Rick a look when he said the good news that led Michonne to hug her tightly.

Once they parted Rick made his way over. “What’s so good it made my wife cry?”

“Y/N’s pregnant”

“Oh my god! Ha! That explains why she was sick” Rick smiles patting Daryl on the back. “Congratulations!”

“You must be excited to become a dad” Michonne smiles watching him nod even if there was a sense of anxiety about that chapter. “It’s okay to be nervous”

“Yeah, plus it’s okay to mess up. You’re not alone on this journey either so.” Rick smiles more gripping Daryl’s shoulder again before parting. “Alright. Let’s get going and I’ll congratulate the mom to be when we get to the hilltop”

“Im going to ride with her and congratulate now. I’ll see you at the hilltop”

“You’re leaving me alone with Eugene?”

“Yes” Michonne smiles patting his chest as she goes into the first car leaving Rick to sigh and accept his fate.

The trip to Hilltop was smooth enough for Y/N not to get car sick but Daryl of course checked on her once she stepped out. She went to help Siddiq with the stock up of the medical trailer given she was going to be his apprentice. Might as well learn as much as you can before you’re tied up for a long time.

“Ah! Y/N!!” Maggie smiles running over the second she got out and immediately noticed her bump resulting in a scream of joy. “Boy do you two work fast! Ah I’m gonna be an aunt again!” She cheers hugging Y/N tightly quickly remembering as she pulled away. “Come on you’ll be taking it easy with me today”

“I was gonna be with Siddiq for most of the day”

“Then I’m tagging along. I’ve missed you”

“I’ve missed you too Mags” Y/N smiles as her smile started to falter when the tears came on suddenly. “I really did miss you”

Maggie couldn’t help the little chuckle that escaped her as she brought Y/N back into her arms. Daryl instantly catching onto the tears and making sure she’s okay but Maggie shooed him.

“Just the hormones” Maggie reassures Daryl while she comforted Y/N.

After a busy day of helping Hilltop reinforce the walls, dig up new gardening spots, restocking the infirmary, and handling general stuff…

Y/N finally sat on the steps of the Barrington House with two bowls of the stew one of the Hilltop residents made for everybody waiting for Daryl to step through the gates. But while she waited she ended up eating both bowls and felt awful when Daryl arrived the second she finished the second one. He was definitely going to have to get used to the hormones because she started tearing up the second he walked over to her.

“It’s okay. I’ll go get us more” Daryl reassures watching her tear up more making it feel like an arrow to the chest looking at her. “Sunshine…”

“I should go get it. I’m the one that ate your food—-“ Before Y/N could even get up, she was gently pushed back down as Daryl took both bowls to get another serving. She pouted the entire time he was gone and didn’t light up until she took a bite remembering how good it was.

“Better?” Daryl smiles when she nods while happily eating. “Good” he kisses her temple before starting to eat for himself.

Little did they know that Tara and Maggie were watching the two from the door opened ajar.

“They are going to have a cute ass baby” Tara comments with Maggie nodding.

“Over-protective parents too”

“Always a bonus”

The two share a short laugh before closing the door and letting them be.

Second Trimester

“I feel huge” Y/N huffs, waiting for Siddiq to finish measuring her 18 week belly for her to write it down. She’s been keeping track of that amongst other things.

“Well you did say you were possibly a big baby? I can really go off that because from the scan we did back at the Hilltop it didn’t show much—-“

“It showed my everything” Y/N stated only for Siddiq to whisper an apology even if she was just kidding and her saddened expression only brought out more apologies out of the man. “Should I be worried?”

“No! Not at all…we should only worry if there is something to worry about. Like how you’re trying to do every chore that pops up when you’re pregnant like this”

“I would like to be useful Siddiq! And since Daryl is helping the Kingdom at the moment, I can do stuff without his scowl around” Y/N states only for Siddiq to take a mental note to have Daryl never leave again if his wife is overdoing herself.

“Just. Take them at your own pace. Don’t overdo it like I said” Siddiq handed back her journal for the belly measurement and the blood pressure he took. “You’ll be back when you reach 20 weeks okay?”

“I know I know”

The “taking it easy with the chores” obviously didn’t stick with Y/N.

Y/N handled inventory for the pantry (the written part), helped Aaron with laundry for both of their households, took on a midday watch shift, watered the gardens, and currently working on taking care of the weeds of the garden is when she started to feel it. But honest, during the watch she felt the exhaustion hit her already and went against her.

“Y/N? You don’t look too good” Rosita frowns approaching her from her side of the gardens as she was helping her friend with the weeds. She noticed the loss of color in Y/N’s face when she brought herself to stand only to falter with her balance. “Amor, you should stop. Rest for the remainder of the day”

“No I have…I have to get this…” Y/N immediately dropped what she was holding and took a slow fall to the ground. She shifted from landing on her side to hold her belly.

Rosita instantly knelt beside her quickly turning to whoever closest to them, in this case Gabriel, and whistling him down.

“Go get Siddiq! And somebody get me Rick” Rosita demanded hearing Gabriel spit out an ‘ok’ while he ran to the infirmary to get Siddiq while an Alexandrian nearby went to get Rick to radio the obvious.

It took about 3 hours to get Daryl to get on his way back home. Not that he picked something over Y/N, never. He was hunting with Carol and the range he was at was just outside the suitable one for Kingdom to reach Alexandria. It took Ezekiel to come out in a car to pick up the two and head immediately to Alexandria.

“Hey—-“ Daryl didn’t mean to throw the door open to the infirmary, watching his wife flinch to the sound. “Sorry, is she okay? Is—-“

“Yeah. Mom and baby are okay…” Siddiq took the blood pressure cuff off of Y/N’s arm while she currently picked at the IV in her hand. “She has to stay until the IV finishes because she was dehydrated, then she’ll be homebound for a bit. Just until her pressure goes down”

“Great…” Y/N frowns continuing to mess with the IV as Daryl quickly stopped her when he sat on the edge of the bed taking her hand.

“You should be taking it easy” Daryl kept his annoyance to himself but the worry always poked through. “I told yea to”

“I didn’t want to be useless…besides I’m not even that far along. I’m not supposed to be this exhausted”

“Your body is working extra hard because it’s growing a whole other human being. It wont benefit anybody if you get hurt doing a job someone else can handle” Siddiq made his last comment before handing Y/N the journal from before that had her current blood pressure. “I’ll come back to take the IV out. Then you can take her back home and I’ll visit in a week to see if her blood pressure went down” he shot the two a smile as Daryl gave his thanks while holding Y/N’s hand feeling her squeeze it harshly when he stepped away.

“What? What’s wrong? Should I—-“

“No, no…it’s weird” Y/N took the hand she was holding to rest it on a certain spot on her belly. Daryl’s confusion only grew until he felt it.

“Oh my god…”

“I know right?” Y/N laughs softly feeling Daryl’s hand continue to rub circles on her belly in hopes for more movement but nothing after the first.

During the bedrest, Carol decided to stay with Y/N during that time which led Ezekiel to do so as well. He helped around the community with Daryl while Carol kept an eye on Y/N. He didn’t ask her to but she insisted, she needed a break from all the kingdom stuff and this was the perfect excuse.

“Tell me why this is your current craving?”

“Pickles? It’s a common craving—-“

“No, pickles with hot sauce”

“Because…I just like it?” Y/N stated with confusion in her voice as she had her craving on a plate rested on her bump. “Are you going to try it with me or question all my decisions like you’ve had the past few days?”

“No…To both of those, I’m just. Trying to come to the decision of something I’ve been asked repeatedly and I don’t know if I even want it” Carol frowns turning to Y/N who she currently laid beside in her bed noticing the curious look, which was obvious given who wouldn’t be after what she said. “Ezekiel asked me to marry him” she stated watching the excitement grow on her friend’s face. “But—-Before you shower me with this is good news shit, I don’t…I don’t think I want it”

“You know he’s not Ed right?” Y/N felt a sting of regret for bringing up past trauma as if it was nothing and started becoming apologetic even if Carol needed to hear exactly that.

“I do…but—-“

“There’s no real but…Ezekiel is a good guy, you two are even raising a kid. You don’t have to decide now and I know Ezekiel would be patient” Y/N set her plate on the end table before forcing herself to sit up entirely. “Listen. I doubt Ezekiel would be mad if you said no. Marriage can be weird for some people and as long as you love each other and support each other. I don’t think he’d care in the long run if you have a ring or not”

“Your kid is lucky to have you as a mom, and especially Daryl as a dad”

“You think he’s nervous?”

“Who wouldn’t be when becoming a new parent?”

“Me, because I have Daryl…and he’s kind of a natural with kids. I’m not worried about having his because he’ll jump right into it.”

Daryl is going to be a great dad

As Daryl started to make his way home after a night watch, a night watch Y/N forced him to do with “if I can’t help around, you’ll help for me” when he’d much rather be laying with her. He heard the son of a bitch prisoner scoff from his cell.

“Yo Dixon. Word traveled with news about you having a baby with the missus”

“What’s it to yea, Negan” Daryl frowns stepping close to the vent as Negan made his way over.

“You think you’re gonna be a good father? With how messed up you are?” Negan grabbed onto the small bars. “I’ve seen the scars, man. What makes yea think you aren’t going to be exactly like the man that gave you those?”

Daryl didn’t hesitate to swing his foot between the bars and nail Negan right in the nose almost breaking it. He falls back groaning in pain as part of him wanted to scream but no one would care. The archer’s actions didn’t mean it didn’t bother him.

The door creaked open in hopes Daryl wouldn’t wake Y/N but she happened to be wide awake reading. She instantly tossed the book aside smiling at her husband but when he fully entered the room something was off which led her smile to fade. She didn’t say anything immediately as Daryl brought himself into the bed low enough to where his head is by her belly. He brought his arm around her, his fingers gently tracing shapes on her belly.

“Baby?” Y/N frowns running her fingers through his hair feeling him shift to bring his attention onto her. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah…’m ok” Daryl lied of course and that wasn’t going to get far with Y/N as her expression only softened and grew more with worry. “You think I’ll mess up our kid?”

“Daryl, let me be completely honest with you. Our kid is going to be extremely lucky to have you as their dad” Y/N stated and wouldn’t take any ‘buts’ from him. “Why would you think you will mess up our kid?”

“Just…dunno” Daryl frowns laying his head back on the bed as he started to tap his fingers on her bump which resulted in a kick or two sometimes. Y/N rested her other hand on a different spot from where his is and felt movement. “I was walking past Negan’s cell and he—-“

Y/N instantly started to move which alarmed Daryl to get up helping her up. She gave her thanks before immediately moving past him.

“Love—-“

“Stupid son of a bitch” Y/N groans from the obvious weight shift when getting out of the bed and walking down the stairs.

“Me?!”

“No! NEGAN” She shouted out her anger making Daryl fear for a bit but then he remembered.

“Love, you have to stay in bed. You need to relax”

“Fuck that. The stupid son of a bitch who kidnapped my husband. Killed my best friend. That fucking pig isn’t going to fuck with my life anymore” Y/N searched around the living room. “Where the fuck is my gun?!”

“I ain’t giving you a gun if you’re going to kill him”

“Then my knife! I won’t kill him—-just make him bleed a bit”

“Ain’t doing that either when you can’t even have a knife holster on” Daryl stated thinking her coming up empty meaning she’d stop and go back to bed. But instead she went out the front door, without shoes and all. “Shit. Y/N it’s late—-“

“Won’t stop me” Y/N stormed, power walked? waddled her way to the cell but on the way found something in the streets. “Hand me that”

Daryl was confused at what she was looking at as he shined his flashlight to the ground finding only a fallen tree branch. “The fucking tree branch?”

“Yes, if you don’t give it to me—-You’ll sleep on the couch”

He wasn’t going to fight those actions and picked it up for her, only for her to snatch it making her way to the cell.

“Can you tell me exactly how this happened again?” Siddiq questioned how Negan manage to have broken his nose.

“Long story” Negan frowns letting the doctor work but the two instantly shifted their attention to the sound of the main door opening before revealing Y/N with a tree branch in hand with Daryl following behind him. “Yo, you’re not allowed down here”

“Shut the fuck up!” Y/N shouted coming into the cell. “Siddiq move” she said softly at first but when Siddiq just sat there with his kit in hand, her rage only grew. “MOVE OR ILL HIT YOU TOO” she snapped resulting in the doctor to quickly move out of her way and to Daryl’s side.

Negan stared at her expecting nothing but immediately started backing into the wall on his cot when she started swinging. The branch hurt a LOT more than expected and she wasn’t letting up.

“STOP—-“

“NO”

“PLEASE—-“

“SHUT UP”

“I DID NOTHING TO Y—-“

“YOU DID EVERYTHING. YOU KILLED GLENN. YOU KILLED ABRAHAM. SASHA. AND YOU KIDNAPPED MY HUSBAND.” Y/N snapped smacking him a couple times. “YOU FUCKING HURT HIM. TOOK HIM AWAY FROM ME AND HIS FAMILY. NOW YOU THINK YOU CAN HURT HIM ALL OVER AGAIN IN MY FUCKING COMMUNITY?!”

As Y/N continued to practically beat Negan with the tree branch as neither Daryl or Siddiq went to intervene.

“She knows she’s going to be bedridden for a few weeks after this right?”

“Probably not. But as long as she gets her point across I don’t think she’d care”

“I’ve only ever heard what Negan did…and I’m sorry” Siddiq frowns. “I could only imagine”

“If I didn’t have her at the end of it, I wouldn’t be here”

Y/N started to become exhausted and Negan was dumbfounded, bruised, and in tears at this point. She dropped the tree branch feeling tears come on.

“He will be a great dad. This child is lucky. If I hear you say another thing against that? I will kill you” Y/N pulled away wiping away her tears letting Daryl engulf her in his embrace.

Siddiq stared at Negan’s state before closing the cell locking it up.

“You’re not gonna—-“

“Nah the bruises and minor cuts will heal. Let’s get out of here”

Third Trimester

“You want me to stop?”

“No”

“Alright, let me get comfortable too then” Daryl rested his cheek on top of Y/N’s head as he was currently holding her belly up to relieve some of the weight. “You’re lucky I’m strong”

“You gave me a big baby” Y/N winced slightly to the movement. “That kicks in multiple directions”

“I don’t think they can do the splits in there” Daryl jokes listening to her groan as a result. “We can lay down yknow”

“No, I’ve been on bedrest too many times I’m taking advantage of this” She shifted a bit, feeling Daryl’s arms readjust slightly while he also started to kiss the top of her head and temple. “You had to get everything ready without me…and I feel bad”

“You helped in your own way without over exerting yourself. All you had to do was keep our baby safe, alright? And yea did that” Daryl didn’t get an immediate reply, all he got was a slow removal of his arms. “Sunshine?”

“How many weeks am I again?”

“Mmm…finishing 36, why?”

Y/N shifted uncomfortable trying to lose past her belly but couldn’t, but her struggle led Daryl to look for her and there was a puddle.

“Your water broke…”

“Oh god, oh—-Fuck, Daryl isn’t it too early?!!”

“No—-Fuck. Okay, just take a seat sunshine. I gotta get Siddiq” Daryl stated and he practically sprinted out of the house so she wouldn’t be alone for long.

Even if the short time alone still led to the downward spiral of her thoughts.

It’s too early

Complications can happen

What if she dies?

What if they both do

Y/N was feeling all of it and instead of crying, she only winced to the contractions and times them until Daryl came back a bit out of breath running to the infirmary and back. Keeping to his word about returning immediately.

“He’s getting his things. Are you sure about doing this here?” They’ve discussed home birth compared to…infirmary birth? It’s weird not having hospitals anymore. But that’s beside the point. It didn’t matter to them, but also took into account of when and where she’d go into labor.

“Love?” Daryl brought himself in front of her kneeling to catch her downward gaze, resting a hand on her belly. “What are you feeling? We are about to meet our girl” Another thing Daryl is fixated on, having a girl.

“What if something bad happens…” Y/N tried not to cry when saying such, but the crack in her voice hurt him. “It’s too early”

“It’s not though, Siddiq said anything past 24 is good survival for our babe. You’re finishing 36…beyond that”

“It’s going to hurt…a lot. I won’t bounce back to it right away…” Y/N frowns feeling the tears fall as she squeezed her eyes tight when another contraction waved through. “Shit…”

“Sunshine, look at me” Daryl rose to his feet taking her hands in his for her to squeeze them until the contraction stopped. Once it did she brought her eyes onto his. “Everythin’ is gonna go smoothly. Siddiq knows what he’s doing, we’re prepared for the most part…and I’m right here. I ain’t going anywhere”

Y/N only started to sob even more letting Daryl gently hold her as the tears were of joy for this time at a loss for words.

“Cmon, let’s get yea ready”

By the time Siddiq finally arrived, word got around…even with how late in the night it was. Rick sat on the couch of the Dixon resident while Michonne made coffee in their kitchen. Judith slept in the Grimes residence next door, which explains the baby monitor attached to Michonne’s hip. Rosita entered the house with an exhausted Eugene following suit.

“Is word out to the other communities?”

“Carol is on her way, Maggie would’ve liked to be here but…y’know” Rick frowns before brushing the sadness off. “Anyway! Aaron will be here with Gracie in a sec. Maybe I should grab Judith just to be safe”

“I will once we get an update, okay?” Michonne reassures bringing the pot to the coffee table setting a hot pad down before the pot.

As Siddiq descended down the stairs to receive more towels from the hall closet and noticed the amount of people in the house. Everyone instantly stared at him.

“Baby?”

“Not yet. She’s at nine centimeters and more uncomfortable than I thought she would be. Something…doesn’t exactly add up” Siddiq trailed and the worry in his toned caused all of them to get in his business. “But but. Daryl is trying to expedite things even if Y/N wants to scream”

“If the pain is that bad, the woman is allowed to scream” Rosita stated getting a tired nod of agreement from Eugene.

“She’s trying not to” Siddiq grabbed the last towel from the closet and went to make his return upstairs.

While such was happening, Daryl kept trying to help Y/N walk around to get that one centimeter there but she kept pushing his hands away every time he tried.

“I wanna lay down…”

“Then let me help yea into—-“

“No I need this stupid shit over with!” Y/N groans leaning against the wall for a moment, giving Daryl the opportunity to be close so she could shift to leaning onto him and not the uncomfortable wall. “Fuck…something feels weird…weirder than usual” She whined, letting Daryl help her back onto the bed as he was going to shout for the doc but he was already coming in when their concerns were rising.

“Siddiq something—-“

“is wrong, something has to be wrong” Y/N kept biting the inside of her cheek to avoid her from screaming at this night hour…

But the rattle of her scream startled everyone downstairs. She couldn’t hold it in anymore, and she was there. It was time.

“On the next contraction you’re going to want to push, okay?” Siddiq stated as he finished putting on gloves and lifting the blanket to help guide the baby out while Y/N’s anxiety started to eat at her.

“I-…O-Okay” Y/N sobbed, feeling Daryl bring his arm around her shoulders while his free hand took hers. “Daryl…”

“I’m right here. I’ve gotcha sunshine” Daryl kissed her temple feeling her squeeze his hand when she felt a contraction coming on.

Robin Elizabeth Dixon

7lb 2oz

Both parents were in tears until the anxiety returned in Daryl this time around when Y/N’s expression went from joy to full of pain.

“Siddiq—-Something really is wrong” She felt the discomfort return as she tried to sit up and look herself but Siddiq advised her not to when he brought himself back with another towel thinking of complications.

Then Siddiq’s expression went from confusion to a bit of shock as it only kicked Daryl’s anxiety up.

“Siddiq!” He shouted to get him to snap out of it as Siddiq breathed out a laugh.

“You’re going to have to push again” He stated grabbing another set of gloves and another towel. “This explains a lot that happened during your pregnancy”

“Siddiq” Y/N groans in annoyance after handing Daryl their daughter to grip onto the sheets feeling another contraction. “Fucking say it”

“You’re having multiples. Explains the extra weight. The morning sickness happening more than once or twice a day—-Regardless. You’re crowning”

“Oh my god” The shock was getting to Daryl and Y/N’s clearly directed annoyance snapped him back.

“You drop her, I will end you”

Y/N couldn’t believe this was her first, and most likely last pregnancy. Who woulda thought she would be having a second baby? At least it’s with the man she loves, and with the support from the village they have.

Shepherd Glenn Dixon

7lbs 6oz

“We…are going to need a second crib” Y/N laughed holding their son who instantly calmed the second he laid in his mother’s arms. “Holy shit Daryl…we have two babies”

“Yeah, that we do” Daryl laughs smiling at the little girl in his arms, seated on the edge of the bed looking over at his wife and son. “They turned out perfect…you did good mama”

“Well…that’s cuz their daddy kept me safe” Y/N instantly turned to the sound of their daughter yawning watching Daryl’s face light up at everything both babies did. “You are definitely going to be a helicopter parent”

“Shut up Siddiq and I both saw what yea did to Negan, these two are your cubs. You’re gonna go full mama bear on anybody that messes with them”

“Damn right” Y/N smirks, leaning forward and kissing Daryl lovingly before gently caressing her little girl’s cheek. “So…who’s gonna tell the village downstairs?”

It wasn’t until Siddiq came back to check on Y/N and the babes when they came up with a plan.

A very quiet descend down the stairs and everyone noticed Siddiq coming down with their baby girl in his arms.

“Oh my god I knew it! I knew they would have a girl” Rosita smacked Eugene on her way up from the couch to go admire the little one with Michonne and Carol.

“She has his eyes” Carol smiles gently caressing the top of her head.

“And her hair. Oh my god why are you showing her to us and not Daryl?” Michonne comments and before she knew it, she couldn’t hold in the excitement that the rest had when Daryl descended down the stairs.

“Yeah she’s pretty great. But so is he” Daryl smiles bringing himself to stand with Siddiq so everyone could admire the twins.

“Congrats man” Aaron smiles patting his back gently. “Now you’ve got double the trouble”

“I know for sure that those kids ain’t gonna get messed with, with him and Y/N as their parents” Rick comments with a smile watching the boy yawn.

“This explains a lot of Y/N’s pregnancy, and boy did she bring perfect babes into the world” Carol makes the last comment that they all agreed with.

Then eventually as the day continues and those who were in the house as guests have left…leaving Daryl and Y/N laying in their bed with their twins nuzzled up with each other protected by their parents and pillows. The two admiring the lives they’ve created…

And to the start of this new chapter

[purplestars222]

Period comfort with hazbin characters

ft alastor, lucifer, fallen!adam and husk

gn afab reader! no y/n used, and you arent in a relationship with alastor, just besties <3 all the other boys have a crush on you.

there will be more parts, may not be period comfort tho, just more hazbin/helluva characters comforting the reader while theyre sick

cw: mentions of period sex, adam is chubby, slight ooc

mdni please<3

Alastor

The smell of blood draws alastor to your room, hes a little worried that you're hurt, but its nothing he cant fix. As he enters your room, and sees you curled up in the fetal position he goes and sits next to you

"Darling, whats the matter? It's a wonderful day and you're spending it in bed! I believe Charlie is baking cookies! You-"

"go away alastor. i'm on my period."

"Well why didnt you say so!"

Alastor disappears into his shadow, and returns a few minutes later with a hot water bottle, a bottle of cold water, some pain meds and dark chocolate. He throws the items on your bed and smiles at you expectingly. You shoot him back a smile of appreciation. Even tho alastor and you had your moments, he's still a good friend when he needs to be.

Lucifer

Lucifer has a crush on you, and its no secret either. Every day he sits next to you during breakfast, he always makes sure you eat enough. He always does Charlie's silly little trust exercises with you, just being in your vicinity makes him happy. When you dont come down for breakfast, he gets worried, he made your favourite for you- pancakes! He decides to take some to your room. When he enters, and sees you curled up on the bed, he sits the tray of pancakes on your bedside table and sits next to you

"Hey, you didnt come down for breakfast, are you okay??"

you shake your head no, and he seems really concerned. He hates seeing you in pain, its horrible. Suddenly he remembers something- lillith acted like this when she first came to hell, periods. In the garden of eden, lilliths periods didnt hurt her, but as soon as she came to hell, it felt like her uterus was stabbing her, luckily luci fixed it

"Can i help?"

You stare up at him, eyes slightly watering from the pain and nod your head, anything to get rid of this. Luci carefully peels back your blanket and rests his hands on your groin, you shiver at the feeling of his warm hands, its nice. Theres a bright glow of golden light, and suddenly, the pains gone, the period pain at least, you still have a headache, and you're still pretty exhausted. You pull luci into a hug, he hugs back, giving you a kiss on the head

"Want me to run you a bath, sweetheart?"

"Yes please"

Lucifer hops up and heads into your ensuite, he starts a bath, making sure to get some really nice smelling soap and bath salts. He puts some rose petals in the tub to make it look pretty, and a couple of rubber duckies. Lucifer cares so much, hes so sweet.

Adam

Adam doesn't really understand the whole 'periods thing'. They didn't have them in heaven, so he doesn't really know what to do when you wake up grabbing your stomach. He pulls out his phone and decides to have a look online to see if there's anything he can get that will help, theres products from the vee's, but he doesnt trust those fuckers. He scrolls across an article that says orgasms can help with period cramps. When adam first shoots the idea at you, you're hesitant, period sex isnt something you've done before, and it seems a little scary, but you let him. He puts a towel under the both of you, and he makes sure that you 100% wanna do this before he gets started. When you guys have done, your pains are pretty much gone. he pulls you on top of him and you just lay there for awhile, enjoying the warmth from adams soft belly <3

Husk

Husk isn't too educated with this stuff either, but he knows how to take care of someone when they're sick. He doesn't realise you have your period at first, he just thinks it's a stomach bug. He gets you some chicken noodle soup and a few painkillers, when you explain to him that you have no appetite because of how bad the pain is, it suddenly clicks in his brain what's happening. He gives you a small kiss on the forehead, then walks out. He goes to charlie asking for help, she gathers together a basket full of snacks, pads, tampons, a menstrual cup, period underwear, hot water bottle with a cute cat cover and some noise cancelling headphones, in case things get overwhelming. Husk brings it back to you and lets you snuggle into him, something he doesn't allow very often. You spend the next few days cuddled up in bed, playing with husks ears watching movies. He helps you when you need to shower, and also keeps your hot water bottle hot. he just really enjoys taking care of you, not that he'd admit that

[jokingmisfit]

Different Jokers Reacting to you Needing to Take Medicine

Jeremiah Valeska

-This man is a genius. He already knew before you told him. He already did research on any and all medicine you have to take. 

-Jeremiah may keep you on your toes for a lot of things but he’s pretty chill about this. You could even take medicine for your mental health when it comes to Jeremiah. If it makes you feel better he’s all for it.

- God forbid the doctor drops you or the pharmacy won’t run the prescription. Jeremiah will not hesitate to start bombing buildings just so you can get what you need.

- If you have to get off one medicine to switch to another he’s going to be right there to analyze your every move (like he doesn’t already) to make sure nothing goes wrong. The second you act off he’s getting you back in there for a better med. Also if you start showing any symptoms he’ll know because he read everything on that medicine.

- He makes sure you take your meds on time everyday. He kind of likes the domesticity of it, the pattern. Jeremiahs stopped mid planning or meeting just to tell/text/call you to take your meds.

-Overall the perfect Joker for having to take medicine. 10/10

Jerome Valeska

-Jerome is the complete opposite of his brother. The man is a loose cannon and is always doing something or other. He had absolutely no idea you were taking meds.

 -Let’s hope you bring it up because if you don’t and he finds them he’ll flip shit. He’ll scream and rant and break things. He may even threaten you. He’ll feel so upset and so betrayed. You’ll have to explain very carefully what they’re for.

-If you bring it up, introduce it slowly, mention what’s physically “wrong” that makes you need to take it, then explain what the medicine does. At first he’s going to be hesitant but at least you can hold his attention. He takes things like this very seriously (especially if it’s you).

-He’s not going to be 100% happy about it but he understands. This isn’t about you not liking your brain, it's about you being in pain. He hates when you’re in pain.

-You can’t take mental medication with him. Jerome refuses to “let you destroy your precious mind.”

- If your doctor drops you or there's a problem with the pharmacy he’ll just cause problems. By that I mean he’ll start blowing the brains out onto the floor. Only to steal the medicine.

-You might think that Jerome will continue to know nothing about your medicine but as soon as you stop talking about it he’ll hyperfocus on it for a few hours. He’ll, by the end of his research, know everything about this/these medicine(s).

-He’ll notice if you start having physical or other symptoms he’ll notice but it’ll take a day or so because he’s so all over the place. Once he notices though he’s threatening people to get you back in there to “fix” you.

-He often forgets you even take it until you take them or need to go to the doctor. He just doesn't see it as something he should butt too much into

- He hates seeing you in pain so he’ll let you take them and he’s pretty good with it so I’d say he’s a solid 6/10 for this situation.

Dark Knight/Ledger!Joker

-He’s smart but he’s busy. Joker had an inkling that you were on something, he just didn’t know what.

-He finds out when he comes just waltzing in while you’re taking it or maybe while you’re filling a pill case. He doesn’t freak out on you but he dances questions off his tongue. As long as you’re honest he’ll be fine with it.

-However if you’re taking medicine for your mental health he’s going to put up a bit of a fight. He’s not going to get loud or aggressive, no. Instead he’s going to praise your mind and your way of thinking. He’s going to try and manipulate you into stopping. If you're strong enough to tell him you’re going to take it then he’ll let it go. It’ll come up every once in a while because he doesn’t like it but he won't force you to stop.

-If something goes bad with your doctor or pharmacy, it's sad to say you’re on your own. Joker is busy constantly and doesn’t have the time for any of that. That being said, if it goes on too long you’ll notice the exact type of medicine you need is found in bulk in your living room with a little bow on the top.

-Now let's say you need to switch meds. Jokers going to be right on top of that shit. You’ll probably mention it in passing but the Joker's biggest fear is something happening to you, so he’s going to make sure no stupid pill or shot is screwing you up. The second you show any “odd” symptom he’s crashing into a hospital, stealing a doctor, doing whatever to make it better.

-Joker acts like a distant caregiver in a way. He doesn’t get involved with it often but the moment you make a comment about any struggles you’re having with it he’s going to find a solution

-I’d say he’s pretty good with the medicine unless it’s mental cause then he may be petty sometimes. Overall a good 8/10.

Arthur Fleck/Joker

-He’s the most understanding for physical medicine and the least for mental. Arthur is 100% down for you taking medicine so you’re not in physical pain. Mental medicine is another story. He thinks it’s stupid and useless, he doesn’t take any and he was supposed to, look at how good he’s doing.

-He’s not letting it happen, you can’t take mental medication.

-He probably knew you needed to take it from the beginning. There’s a big chance it’s one of the first topics the two of you even talked about.

-If your doctor or pharmacy drops you or causes issues he’s on top of it. He’s probably the most calm towards them. It’s when they don’t budge that his gun gets drawn. He refuses to let you suffer in pain.

-He knows you really well and he’s always asking how you are. If you get symptoms from a new medicine he notices immediately. It doesn’t matter what is going on, he is going to make sure you’re taken care of.

-He just loves you so much. He’ll always be there, he just can’t let you take meds that will “hurt” your mind.

-He’s great with physical medicine, not mental. He’s an absolute sweetheart. 8/10 just for the sugar.

[froggiewrites]

hi I had another idea for a request! dealer’s choice on the character(s) (but if you’re stuck for an idea maybe law?), but maybe the reader gets hurt in a fight and their (slightly in denial about being in love) future love interest nurses them back to health? can be fluff or smut or whatever you want I’m not picky I just love seeing your words

thank you I still love your work please keep it up

This request is from @toadmakes, on anon since it's her sideblog! I thought this idea was so sweet, so I just made a really fluffy, self indulgent little piece. Also, I let Law be cool last time I wrote about him so of course I had to make him a flustered little nerd in this one. I hope you enjoy it!!

A Helping Hand

Pairing: Law x Reader

SFW

Summary: You get hurt protecting Law, and he's not pleased. Warnings: Fluff, Lots of Banter, Very Little Hurt/Lots of Comfort Word Count: 1.3k

You don’t remember throwing yourself in front of Law, or being carried back to the Tang. You don’t remember the screams of your friends, or the shaking hands that so carefully bandaged you back up. But that’s alright, because they were all too eager to tell you how stupid you had been once you came to.

“–disgustingly irresponsible! Not to mention unnecessary! What good reason could there possibly have been to do that?” Law is the most furious you’ve ever heard him, and you fear it may be because he’s the most scared you’ve ever heard him. You don’t know how close of a call it was, but you know you hurt all over, and his eyes are shining with something someone who didn’t know better might confuse with tears.

“I didn’t want you to get hurt.” You try not to say it like an excuse or a plea. It’s simply fact.

His eyes shoot away from yours. You swear you see a hint of red on his cheeks, but just as quickly as you notice it, it’s gone. He clicks his tongue with displeasure before continuing. “I wasn’t going to get hurt. I could have very easily moved out of the way. You–” he sighs. “Don’t do anything like that again.”

“Well I don’t think I’ll be doing it anytime soon.” You try to give him a wry grin, but it turns more into a grimace as you shift, pain shooting through you. You’re covered head to toe in bandages, every part of you sore and bruised. You’re surprised you’re upright and conscious right now, honestly. “Can I get some painkillers?”

“You’re on enough to take down a horse.”

“But it still hurts.” You pout, and he grits his teeth and looks away from you again.

“Yeah. Almost dying tends to do that.” Even with the gruffness in his voice and face, his hands are gentle as they begin to fuss with your bandages, checking over every inch of you to ensure you’ve been properly taken care of. You could swear he hesitates slightly at checking the bandages around your thighs and chest, but he perserveres, ever the professional. You wince a few times when his hands brush a particularly tender spot, yelping when he makes slight contact with your ribs. He fiddles with the IV in your arm, and you feel a flood of relaxation and relief hit you. Looks like he found a reason to give you more painkillers after all. “You’re going to be out of commission for a long while, y’know.”

“How long?”

“At least six weeks, but probably longer.”

“What?”

“That’s nothing compared to what it could be. You have a couple broken ribs, not to mention all of the cuts and bruises. You’re lucky your organs weren’t crushed.”

“Can’t you like…shambles it away?”

“No.” His voice is flat. You look at him with wide, pleading eyes, and he scoffs at you. “Well, more like I won’t.”

“Why not?”

“If I just fix it you’ll run off and do it again, and next time you might not be so lucky.”

“Oh…so you’re just worried about me?” You giggle, filled with warmth at the idea. And maybe the pain meds. “You could just say so.”

“That’s not–” he lets out a soft choked sound when he realizes there’s no way to deny it without insisting he doesn’t care about you. As grumpy as he can be sometimes, he would never say something so unkind. Not to you. “Shut up.”

“Hey Captain?” You feel your tongue loosening with things you would never say, but you’re too out of it to stop yourself.

“Yes?”

“Do you like me?”

There’s definitely a flush to his cheeks now. “What?”

“I think you like me. A lot.”

“I–No!”

“You don’t like me?” Your voice cracks a little, tears coming far too quickly. Whatever he gave you is powerful stuff.

“That’s not–I–agh!” He roughly runs his fingers through his hair, desperately avoiding eye contact with you. “I like you. As a crewmate.”

You puff your cheeks out a bit with displeasure. “That’s all?”

“That’s all.” 

“I’ll believe you if you look at me.”

“I am looking at you.”

“You’re looking at the headboard over my shoulder, Captain.”

His eyes flick to yours, and he turns an even more brilliant shade of scarlet. “I li–” His shoulders tense and he suddenly shoots up and turns away from you. “I can’t believe I’m arguing with you about this. You’re high off your ass. I bet you won’t even remember this when you wake up tomorrow.” You can see the tips of his ears burning as he gathers his things and prepares to leave.

“You’re gonna abandon me?”

“I have work to do!”

“I’m a patient, I am work!”

His voice is rising with frustration. “You’re already set up, what else is there to do?”

“I don’t know, Captain, I’m not the doctor here!” You try to raise your arm to reach out to him, only to let out a soft whine when you can barely move it.

“Please stop trying to use your broken bones.” He comes closer to gently hold your arm down, concern clear.

“It doesn’t feel broken.”

“It will soon.”

“You’re gonna let me hurt? On purpose? You’re so mean to me, Captain.”

He sighs. His thumb starts rubbing small circles onto your hand, though he doesn’t seem conscious of the action. “If I fix you up, do you promise not to do anything like that again?”

“No.”

The affectionate movements stop. “What?”

“I can’t promise that. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I’m strong, I can take a little pain.”

“But I don’t want you to.” You know you sound petulant and childish, but you can’t stop yourself. “I don’t want you to hurt at all, I don’t care if you can handle it. You shouldn’t have to.”

“So you should?”

“Yes.”

“That’s stupid.”

You huff. “You’re stupid.”

He can’t help but break into a rare laugh, a chuckle that rumbles through him and makes your heart skip a beat. He doesn’t seem to realize he’s lost himself until he looks up to see you staring at him, eyes wide and cheeks red, mouth slightly agape. “What?”

“I really like you, Captain.”

He grows horribly flustered, but for once he doesn’t pull away from you. He keeps looking you in the eye, even as every part of him screams to run and avoid his embarrassment. “You do?” His tone is heart-wrenchingly hopeful.

“I do. So, so much. You’re the most beautiful and wonderful person in the world.” You can feel your smile grow dopey and lovesick. “I’d take a million hits for you. A billion, even.”

“What if it’d make me happier if you didn’t take any hits at all?”

“Then I would say you shouldn’t have let me join your crew. Getting hit is part of the job. But that’s okay. You’re worth it.” You lean forward, begging him for a single touch, since you currently can’t lift your arms. You can feel your eyes drooping, but you fight to keep them open long enough to receive what you want.

He sighs, but you can see the affectionate smile creeping onto his face. “You’re insufferable,” he mutters, resting a hand against your cheek so tenderly you could weep. “Get some rest. I’ll fix you up in the morning.”

You hum as he uses his palm to gently push you back down, his other hand on your shoulders to recline you slightly. You’re fading fast, finally losing your fight with sleep, but before you go, you swear you feel the ghost of his lips against your forehead.

Tag List: @pandora-writes-one-piece

[wonderlandwalker]

Second Chances | Eddie Munson x Reader

Stranger Things Masterlist / Inbox Summary: Eddie royally screws up your first date (read part 1 here) Content Warnings / Tags: fluff (i think), swearing, the worst luck ever, no use of y/n, henderson!reader, reader is described to have some freckles idk, prolly a lot of spelling errors that I'll fix later read now at your own will Word Count: 1.4k A/N: so I kinda went through some trauma this past month but I just started ADHD meds and surprise surprise they work. Still didn't proofread this and am purely posting it cause I literally just wrote all of it in one go and I have poor impulse control even the meds can't fix that

He was late, and he only knew he was late because Wayne had gotten home and wondered what he was still doing at home. Now normally Wayne wouldn't have bothered grilling the guy, but Eddie hadn't been able to shut up about this for a week. Turns out this day was the day the kitchen clock had decided to stop working, resulting in a TV remote being flung at it the moment Eddie realised, because, of course, it had to be today, of course, his luck would run out again. But Wayne wouldn't let him give up that easily, because as he said it: "fate can go fuck itself, go over there and grovel", which honestly wasn't such a bad idea. So here he was now, definitely speeding, definitely more nervous than he already was, and definitely praying to any god who would listen for help. Because this was your first date, a date he didn't think would happen in the first place and he has already managed to screw it up without even being there. In an after thought he came to the further realization that he definitely did not want to face Dustin any time soon, the boy had become oddly protective of you once his friends actually clued him in on what was happening, which was obvious to everyone -except as established Dustin- with the way Eddie's eyes would trail after you every time he managed to spot you. He was trying to hype himself up, talk some confidence into himself and find a good way to apologize, not that he thought there were any. But just as he turned the corner to your block he heard it, he heard the worst possible sound on earth at this moment, he heard the sirens to Hopper's car. For a sweet small second, he allowed himself to believe Hopper wasn't after him, there was someone else committing a traffic violation on the other side of the street. Yeah, that's exactly what was going on, on the other side of this very much empty street was a car with a bunch of teens hooking up and Hopper had turned on his siren as a warning so he could put his clothes back on. Thinking about it, that wasn't even such a wild idea, like, that has happened to him before, well, except for the empty street anomaly. Right, time to face the music: Eddie came to a stop only about a hundred meters away from your house and rolled down his window as Hopper approached. Eddie shook out face to rid himself of the nerves and turned on his best smile. "So what's your excuse this time?" The Police Chief began to ask. Eddie quirked up at the question "It's not like the other times Jim I promise." Hopper looked him up and down squinted his eyes at him, cocking his head down just the slightest bit "How many warnings have I given you this month kid?" Eddie sighed, he knew where this was going. "Two" "Which makes this?" "The third" Eddie answered, dragging out his words. "Third warning kid, gotta write you up today" Hopper began to grab the police pad in his back pocket to write up the incident report, but Eddie was not above begging, at least not currently. "Listen, Jim-, Mr Hopper-, Sir, you can give me the ticket but can you please give it to me sometime else-" he was frantically moving his hands while talking now "- I'll even come by the station and pick it up myself tomorrow morning first thing but I have to-" And of course, things had to get worse:

The gods hadn't listened to his hasty prayers, because he could see Dustin in your open front door attempting to push you outside while pointing at Eddie's van. And he could tell the moment you spotted him because he could feel a small nerve entering his system, he could feel your presence connecting with his. And Hopper was asking him to please step out of the car right now. So he did, he stepped out and saw you give him a small wave which he tried to return except Hopper was snapping him out of the trance you still had on him from the other side of the street. So Eddie gave it one last-ditch attempt "Hopper please" "Alright let's hear it, what's your excuse?" Eddie's eyes brightened with the bit of hope he had just grabbed. "I have a date" he tried to explain "A date with who?" The chief wasn't gonna admit it, but the kid had grabbed his interest. So Eddie started rambling about how you two had met and how it should be your first date and then he caught your eyes again and he couldn't hear it but his mind filled in the blanks as he watched your soft giggling while looking at the situation unfold and he felt all his tension drop out of his body at once, he felt at ease from the way your eyes searched his, instantaneously so. "Wait a second, Claudia's daughter?" Hopper was looking over at the porch now too as your mother came out of the house as well. "That's not a great first impression" "Tell me about it" Eddie was trying to ignore reality as hard as he could right now. "Alright here's what's gonna happen, giving you one more warning but it's coming out of your tolerance next month" Hopper had assumed his dad stance, a hand on his hip and the other pointed straight at Eddie, and if he hadn't been oh so terribly grateful right now he would have been tempted to make fun of him for it. "Yes, yes! Definitely that please!" Hopper released one last sigh before he spoke back up "Go on over there then" Eddie took the olive branch and ran away with it before he could change his mind. With his van performing some emergency parking down the road he ran over to you just as you shooed off Dustin, and now he stood face to face with you, he stood close enough to count the fading summer freckles on the bridge of your nose and to smell the perfume he had started associating with you, and he wanted more time to admire how well he could see you right now but he had more pressing business. "I'll make this up to you I promise" He knew his promise probably wasn't worth much, but he had to try anyway. He had already started internally debating if it was worth getting down on his knees to beg as a smile cracked on your face. "This is exactly what Dustin predicted would happen" You were full-on grinning now, and it took him a second to comprehend that you weren't upset, you were amused, and he was confused. "He what?" "When he found out we had a date this weekend he tried to convince me you'd be at least an hour late with the Hopper on your ass I'm just stunned at his accuracy" Maybe this really was his year after all "So you're not upset?" "I'm just upset I owe that nosy dipshit money now" And now Eddie was laughing too because you started asking him if he wanted to just skip his reservation which you guys had missed anyway and go to the drive-in because you had heard they were playing Monty Python. So Monty Python it was as he drove there and got both the sweet and the salty popcorn because he wasn't sure which you'd prefer and spent the rest of the evening what he'd say was the perfect time. But he wasn't done yet, he had promised to make things up to you and this was only the beginning for him, a beginning to many good times ahead.

[@saradika-graphics still being my go-to for dividers] Taglist: @vicurious28, @arlxtoa, @em0220, @madyoghurt, @saturnsbxtchx, @maskofmirrors

[crguang]

wasted with longing, part 3

Knowing Kafka is a rollercoaster of emotions you can’t escape from no matter how much you beg to touch the ground.

friends with benefits, some domestic bliss before the storm, 6.5k words

part one part two

A/N: no smut warning woah…. actual development woahhh… cant believe i wrote this much without throwing in some sex i think i might like this criminal :/

“So… Can I come in?”

Kafka’s self-assured tone sounds lazy, indifferent to the predicament she finds herself in, and her lips are fixed in that practiced smile like she’s genuinely happy to see you despite bleeding through her shirt on your doorstep. You stare at her disheveled state, a hundred questions dancing on your tongue and unable to voice any of them. Instead, you open the front door wider and urgently usher her into your apartment with a hand wrapped around her uninjured bicep. Kafka makes a sound of surprise, though it fails to convey any. She lets herself be moved and quietly walks further inside your place. 

“What happened?” The door shuts behind you, but you’re already leading her down the hallway towards your small bathroom. “Where do you even come from?!”

Your words quaver more than you would like as you flip the switch and motion for her to sit on the toilet seat. You can feel her eyes on you while you messily rummage through the cupboards beneath the sink, pushing old medicine bottles aside and cleaning products out of the way. The weight in your stomach grows heavier the longer you search for your first-aid kit, shutting the wooden cupboards and throwing open the one behind the mirror desperately. Apart from prescribed and over the counter medication, you find nothing that would be of help at this moment.

“Where is it?… Fuck, where is it?!” You lay your palms flat on the counter, head dropping low to think. 

“Calm down,” Kafka says calmly, a slightly amused lilt in her voice, “I’m not going to die.”

You ignore her horrible attempt at reassuring you and try to recall when was the last time you used the bandages in the kit. You cut yourself cooking some weeks ago but you remember going to the bathroom to fish them out… It has to be around here somewhere. You bite your bottom lip anxiously, your pulse in your ears like an oppressive presence, and force yourself to take in a breath so you don’t succumb to your panic. If it’s not in this room, it must be laying in your storage closet. You spare the other woman a glance to find her already looking at you, obediently silent. She doesn’t seem to be in any pain but you know it’s a facade, you’re only taken aback by how easy it is for her to pretend that nothing is amiss. You straighten up, run a hand over your face to clear your head and order her not to move before walking out to find the aforementioned closet.

You make an even bigger mess of your storage closet as you search for the med kit, lifting boxes you don’t recognize and throwing plastic bags full of random trinkets out in the hallway. Your heart is in your throat, you can feel your eyes sting with the familiar weight of unshed tears, but you can’t stop looking. The thought of Kafka bleeding out before anything is done appears in your distressed mind and worsens your anxiety despite the probability of it happening being low. If this wound turns out to be something you can’t stabilize on your own, you’ll call the emergency services. You push aside a basket filled with yarn, letting  out a shuddering breath at the sight of a clear case with a red cross on it. You waste no time grabbing it and heading for the bathroom, not bothering to close the closet door. When you walk back in, Kafka has managed to take off her bloody shirt and is facing the mirror over the sink, a hand still applying firm pressure on her shoulder. She turns your way to acknowledge you and takes a peek at the box in your hands. 

“What are you doing? Sit down,” you swallow the lump in your throat so you don’t sound as strained. 

Putting the kit on the counter and lifting the lid, you take out a few non-stick bandages. From your peripheral vision, you see Kafka complying with your shaky command and suppressing a chuckle. She hasn’t said much so far, which is uncharacteristic of her quick witted nature. You pick up a clean face towel from one of the shelves in the corner and rinse it with warm water. You step in front of her and gesture to the wound.

“Let me clean it.”

Once again, Kafka doesn’t protest. Her guarded gaze is on you, following every twitch of your brows and inaudible intake of breath, almost sizing you up as you lean in close to treat her wound. Her small smile is frozen on her face, and you can’t tell what it’s meant to convey anymore. She carefully takes her hand off her shoulder. The small puncture wound leaves a bloody trail down her skin, but even you can tell that it’s no longer bleeding profusely; the worries filling your head shrink and finally allow you to think more rationally. You bring the wet towel to her skin. You’re more meticulous with your hands than you thought you could be, softly washing away the specks of dried blood on her shoulder and around the injury. At this distance you see faint bluish veins that you had no reason to notice before, they slither down her neck and fade away above her collarbone. You wipe the deep red from her usually flawless skin, brushing over it with a mindfulness opposite from the lustful touches you’re accustomed to; your sole intention is to soothe her pain instead of taking pleasure from her. You are suddenly aware of her proximity in this unfamiliar context. She sits close without the headiness of sex, quiet and alert, and you can feel the warmth of her body from where you stand, your head is bowed and one of her thighs rests between yours. 

Kafka looks up at you through her lashes but you have no way of understanding the light behind her eyes. You think perhaps all of her strength goes to withstand the pain she’s in. You still feel your beating heart against your ribcage, its erratic pace gently growing steady, while her chest rises and falls easily. Your breaths fill the silence around you. As the cloth delicately clears away the blood, you sneak a glance at her and your eyes meet. Your hand falters on her skin. Her rosy-lilac irises speak of tenderness that does not fit her, like a deceiving front to conceal her emotional distance. You see them but there is nothing beyond them, nothing that she allows you to glimpse at. Even so, you’re privy to a side of her you don’t yet know. There’s still traces of blood on her cheek she meant to wipe off before seeing you, and without thinking, you lift the towel higher to clean it off with a few smooth strokes. Kafka blinks once and you do the same rapidly, sharply turning away from her piercing stare to finish dressing her wound. In the stillness of your home, new truths are unknowingly written. 

To stop the bleeding and prevent infections, you take out square non-adhesive bandages and peel one of them off. She’ll have to see an actual doctor for treatment, but you realize that the situation is not as bad as you initially thought. The sight of her bloody shirt and glove terrified you at first glance; you slowly realize that all of it must not have been hers. Unease settles in your stomach a second time. What could she possibly be implicated in to show up at your door with an injury like this?

“Why’d you come here?” You ask softly now that the worst has passed, eyes focused on carefully applying the bandage to her skin. “Why didn’t you go to the hospital for this?” 

“Wasn’t serious enough,” Kafka replies nonchalantly. She gazes at your furrowing brows and incredulous expression like she’s been doing since you opened the door. She doesn’t answer the first question.

“Serious enough? Your shirt is dyed red. How’d you even get this?”

“It’s just a gunshot wound. A little Band-Aid should fix me right up.”

“What the fuck?!”

In your loud disbelief your fingers press into the small hole in her shoulder and Kafka winces, clenching her jaw tightly. You quickly withdraw your hand. The bandage is halfway peeling off from her skin and she brings a gloved hand up to properly apply it herself. 

You step back from her frame, lips parted in incredulity. “You got shot?”

Kafka uses her free hand to peel off the second bandage and apply it over the first one, not looking at you as she does so. “Relax, the bullet didn’t go all the way in and I already took it out. It’s a minor scrape now.”

“You got shot?”

“Ugh, not so loud… I’ve had a long day.”

“You need to see a doctor. Are you insane?”

She raises her head towards you. “I don’t need a doctor, just a place to stay until tomorrow.”

You swallow thickly, lifting a hand to your hairline and pacing back and forth in the enclosed space. You can’t believe what she’s saying. No normal person just gets shot on a random Thursday and acts so nonchalant about it— having seen the proof of it, your mind is reeling with questions you’re not sure you want the answers to. Kafka has always had an air of mystery around her and the kind of confidence that makes you think that she’s invincible. Looking at her now, sitting in your bathroom after you tended to her wound and seemingly unbothered by the favor she’s asking of you, your chest constricts with a foreboding feeling you can’t name. Your gaze drops to her discarded shirt on the floor. You want to ask her what she’s done, whose blood is on her clothes, but your throat tightens as if begging you to keep your mouth shut. Kafka watches the emotions play out on your face and speaks up again.

“You stayed home.”

It takes a few seconds to meet her eyes, your reply agitated, “What?”

“Last time we talked, I told you not to go to work today. Despite your lack of trust in me, you stayed home. Why?”

She seems to be genuinely wondering why, but you don’t have an answer to give her. You don’t know. There was something about the seriousness with which she suggested you call out of work that made you uneasy come this morning, all traces of her usual aloofness were gone, even if she meant for her delivery to be casual so as to not rouse any suspicions. It was a split decision, you picked up your phone and called in sick before fully understanding the implications of your actions. You trusted your gut, not her. 

“Something came up,” you lie instead and confront her, “You knew something was going to happen today— or planned to come by, that’s why you wanted me here, right? You know I get off work at 7 and I wouldn't have been home.”

Kafka gives nothing away but you know she doesn’t believe your white lie. If she feels anything about this show of distrust, she keeps her cards close to her chest. She shrugs with her uninjured shoulder.

“Maybe I just missed you.”

There it is, that flirty, teasing expression you’re used to seeing on her face. She’s deflecting and is for once doing a terrible job at it. She won’t tell you the truth, you know that much. Irritation burns the walls of your throat. In a way, you’re both lying to each other so you shouldn’t expect something you yourself are not ready to give her; then again, she’s the one who showed up at your door with a swelling injury and she has the guts to ask you to stay overnight while blatantly ignoring your attempts at finding out the circumstances of her situation. You don’t react to her taunt, you only cross your arms and stare at her, unamused. Your heartbeat has picked up several paces and you’re uncomfortable with the awareness of it drumming inside you. Kafka sighs in faux-exasperation. 

“It’s only for tonight. I’ll be gone in the morning.” When you don’t reply, she hesitantly adds, “Please.”

You’re torn, her stubbornness will keep her from seeking a medical expert and you have no idea what she did to get it in the first place. Either way, she’s putting herself in danger, and if you let her stay for a while at least you can make sure she doesn’t worsen her condition before her wound stops bleeding completely… You run a hand over your face. Might as well make dinner for two. 

Kafka’s in the shower and you’re chopping the vegetables you bought earlier this afternoon, your mind a few miles away as you move efficiently around the kitchen. You told her that if she was going to sleep over, she should change into more comfortable clothes. Weirdly, she didn’t make any lewd comments and simply accepted the oversized shirt and plaid pyjama pants you gave her before walking out of the bathroom.. She must have a lot on her mind too, you suppose. Maybe she’ll be more inclined to share a little later. The pasta is currently boiling so you get started on the sauce, letting it simmer on the stove while you take care of the veggies you’ll be steaming to eat as a side. The running water quickly becomes background noise while you busy yourself, a sound you’re not very used to hearing when you’re not the one showering, but the pitter-patter relaxes you a touch. You’re no longer on the edge of an anxiety attack, though worry still resides in the depths of your heart considering the situation you find yourself in. You try to focus on the dinner you’re cooking instead of the bloodstained memory of Kafka’s clothes. They’re in the washing machine now, but you remember how soaked they were vividly, crimson and haunting. You instantly thought the worst, and when suddenly confronted with the prospect of losing her, you panicked. Anyone would have reacted the same in the face of a bleeding person, you tell yourself, but you can’t deny that the thought deeply unnerves you. 

You don’t register the sound of the water being turned off. You stir the rosé sauce and lower the heat under the vegetables, then incorporate the pasta into the creamy goodness. The smell of freshly cooked pasta fills your nose and reminds you of how little you ate today. You take out two plates from a cabinet and pour a generous serving in each one, adding a little more vegetables for yourself. You’re gently laying them on the kitchen island in the middle of the room when Kafka walks in with her hair still damp from the shower. Her face is bare, her long locks loose past her shoulders, and she’s wearing the clothes you lent her. The shirt hangs around her thighs over the cotton pants, big enough to be cozy on her. She looks… mundane, more refreshed than an hour ago. In such plain attire, she doesn’t seem as enigmatic or intimidating, but rather like your average citizen. It’s a harsh contrast to the way she presents herself and the cocky, in control woman you usually see. She strides into the kitchen and leans on the island to glimpse at the food you made. You don’t realize that you’re staring until she looks at you and raises an eyebrow, a small confident smile on her lips.

“See something you like?”

You avert your gaze and turn around to take out the parmesan from the fridge. Your skin warms up from the embarrassment of getting caught, but you manage to hide your flustered expression from her sight. Your stomach buzzes with a feeling you attribute to bashfulness. This is yet another side of Kafka you’re discovering, she’s never stayed until morning light before. You’ve long exceeded the limits of what you’re familiar with tonight, the feeling is the same as the night you undressed her for the time; excitement and nervousness swirled in your belly, each caress revealing inches of unexplored skin to your eager touch. You face her again and find that in this moment, you feel no disquiet. 

“Is that for me?” Kafka sits on the stool across from you and points to one of the plates. 

You grate some parmesan on top of the pasta before pushing the portion towards her. She stares at it for a few seconds then lifts her questioning eyes to yours. She seems to hesitate for the time it takes you to pull out a fork from a drawer and give it to her, but she eventually thanks you quietly. She means it for more than dinner. You nod once in acknowledgement. 

You take a seat on the stool next to her and glance at the way she turns the fork over in her hand, looking at the food in search of answers instead of eating it. For a couple minutes there’s only the sound of metal on ceramic as you eat while Kafka is lost in thought, absentmindedly picking at her vegetables. After swallowing another bite, you decide that you’re sick of the awkward silence. 

“You don’t eat pasta?”

Kafka blinks. In an instant, her cryptic smile stretches her lips and she stabs some pasta onto her fork, sticking it into her mouth. Her face lights up after the first chew. “Mmm. Never had a home cooked meal that actually tastes like food.”

“Really?”

“I’m not much of a cook.”

“Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She purses her lips, silverware hovering in the air, though she’s not offended. 

“I just can’t picture you wearing an apron.”

“That’s because you usually picture me wearing nothing.”

You make a face but don’t refute her point, to which Kafka’s smile widens an inch. You stuff food into your mouth to give you time to think of a reply. She watches you with an amused look, leaning her chin in her hand.

“Not even a little protest…”

“Oh, shut up,” you shot back indignantly, “should’ve dropped the bottle of hot sauce on your plate…”

Kafka’s deep chuckle compels you to look at your dinner instead of her. “Makes no difference to me. My pain tolerance is pretty high, it might make the flavors pop out a bit more.”

You’re reminded of how easily she kept her composure earlier, as if getting shot at is a regular occurrence for her. Flashes of her bleeding shoulder come back to your mind and you quiet down a bit, poking a broccoli with the tip of your fork. Kafka immediately senses the shift in your mood. She pauses, watches you toy with the vegetable for a short moment, then twirls her own fork in her hand.

“Don’t worry,” she reads your mind effortlessly, “a scrape like that will heal in no time and will barely leave a scar. Besides, you won’t care much for it the next time I’m undressing in front of you.”

You roll your eyes at the innuendo but it successfully brings you out of your thoughts for the time being. You lightly shake your head.

“Is sex the only thing on your mind?”

“Not the only thing…” she drawls, but the way her gaze drops to your chest and leisurely trails up to stare into your eyes, the beginnings of a smirk on her lips, suggests otherwise. She rhythmically taps the island’s surface with a finger. 

“...Just eat your food.”

Kafka laughs softly and complies. You’re thankful for her restraint to make a dirty joke. As you both eat, the atmosphere around you shifts into a comfortable space you don’t feel the need to fill with mundanities. Still, you end up telling her about yourself after some prompting, about your friends, how it felt to move away from your parents and get your own place— even the doubts about your career and how you don’t think it’s something you want to do anymore. Kafka watches you all the while, her cheek in her palm, and comments on certain things but mostly keeps quiet. You don’t realize how much you’ve confided because she’s surprisingly an excellent listener and you get a little high from her undivided attention. Your almost empty plates lie forgotten on the kitchen island. You turn on the stool to face her fully at some point, your knees brushing her thigh, and the casual, innocent contact makes your heart race. Her presence is just as exciting outside of the context of a hookup, your pulse creates a melody for this moment. Unbeknown to you, you've already made up your mind; she looks prettier under the kitchen lights at night. 

“You should quit,” Kafka repeats the advice she told you days ago, following the movement of your head as it tips backwards in exasperation. “You can make money doing anything, you might as well enjoy what you do.”

“It’s not that simple,” you argue, “my life is stable as is. I don’t even know what I want— it would be so irresponsible to drop everything just because I’m not fully satisfied with how things are now.”

“Then find out what you want and execute it.”

You sigh loudly, leaning on the island to rest your forehead on your arm. She makes it sound easy but quitting your research job in an engineering department might damage the fragments of relationship you have with your parents. You only see them a couple times a year, sometimes for a week during the summer, but they make sure to let you know how proud they are that the money they invested in you is paying off. You know they can’t control you anymore and yet, the guilt of them struggling to put you through school is ingrained in your gray matter. Despite the heavy weight they constantly put on your shoulders, you truly do want to please them. You moved to another corner of the world and can still hear your mother’s disapproving voice in your ears. 

“I wish I knew if whatever I end up doing is the right choice,” you mutter, laying your chin on your forearm and staring straight ahead. “It’d be nice to know how this all ends.”

Kafka doesn’t respond immediately. She ponders for a while, fingers drumming on the stainless steel. 

“Mmm. There’s more joy to be found in the unknown, I think,” she says after a pause. “More excitement.”

“More anxiety too.”

“They often come together, don’t they? Both make you feel alive, having one without the other might breed a certain… emptiness.”

You furrow your brows. “You’ve clearly never felt anxious.”

Kafka only smiles softly. “In any case, you can’t live your life fulfilling other people’s wishes. I’ve never found selfishness to be ugly.”

Once the plates and pans are washed half an hour later, you stop by the bedroom to pick up a blanket and a pillow for Kafka to sleep with. You walk back into the living room, items under your arms, to see her sitting cross-legged on the couch, TV remote in hand. The screen is bright in the dim light and illuminates the room around it, painting moving shadows on the walls. You put the pillow down on the armrest with the folded blanket over it. Kafka is scrolling through your streaming applications and stops to acknowledge you. 

“Want to watch something?” She asks. “I don’t remember the last time I sat down for a full movie.”

The invitation is so ordinary that you hesitate for a few seconds. Watching a movie after cooking her dinner…? A corner of your mind is screaming that this sounds like a casual date but you quickly shake that thought away for its absurdity. She needed a place to stay for the night, that’s all. Once again, she’s more using you than anything else, you’re a safe place to come to because you have trouble refusing her. You prove your own theory right by accepting her offer and closing the hallway and kitchen lights before taking a seat next to her, putting a reasonable distance between you. You fold your legs on the couch and lay a forearm on the armrest as Kafka continues to scroll through the different apps. She lets out comments like “sounds boring” and “ugh” after skipping certain movies. She’s mostly talking under her breath, eyes fixed on the TV screen. The blue light applies a similar hue to her skin tone and adds vitality to her irises, they appear more vivid and alert. The sharp shadows in her hair are even darker against such a vibrant source of light and the sight of her brings to mind a beautifully composed photograph. You take a mental picture of her like this, in sleepwear with her hair free of the ponytail she puts it in every day, staring intently at the screen like a kid who’s been allowed to stay up past her bedtime. 

“What about a horror movie?” You propose, taking your eyes off her frame to look at the TV.

“No. They’re never scary. This one looks less mediocre than the others.”

You read the synopsis of a psychological thriller together. The movie doesn’t particularly speak to you but you tell her it seems nice anyway. You’re not surprised to learn that she enjoys mind games. Kafka adjusts her position on the couch so that she’s mimicking your own and presses play, leaning an elbow on the armrest to rest her cheek on top of her fist. You try to focus on the movie, the pacing is too slow to catch your tired mind’s attention for more than ten minutes at a time, and an hour passes with you sneaking glimpses at the woman next to you from your peripheral vision. She’s not close enough that you can feel her warmth like you could in the bathroom earlier, but the air around you feels the same; a sort of domestic intimacy that has no place between the two of you because you can’t imagine meaning that much to someone like her. You can’t snuff it out, no matter how many times you tell yourself to look at the scene in front of you. Since she’s waltzed into your kitchen hours ago, you can’t help noticing habits that give you the false impression that you know her. Her fingers twitch when she’s lost in thought, they typically drum on whatever surface she can get her hands on or subtly move in the air like she’s conducting a symphony. She eats her vegetables last. She doesn’t shy away from eye contact when you speak. These little things don’t make up a person, and yet, for someone who doesn’t reveal much of herself, they’re quirks that few get to see. 

Kafka is watching the movie with an unimpressed expression, which has you suppressing a smile. Occasionally, she comments on whatever is happening—mostly complaints about the direction the movie is going or how much better it would be if the human responses were more realistic. You simply nod along, already somewhat dozing off near the climax of the story. The aftermath of your anxious evening is catching up with you and you’re in a comfortable enough position at the moment, it doesn’t take long for fatigue to descend on your body. Your eyelids can’t bear their own weight and you rest your eyes for a couple of minutes, leaning your head on the armrest. You don’t witness how the movie ends. You’re falling asleep on the couch, the TV acting like background noise, and you forget that this is where Kafka is supposed to sleep. You don’t register soft fabric being laid over you, only catch sweet notes of vanilla belonging to the soap you use in the shower.

A sore ache in your neck pulls you out of a dream whose contents now elude you. Your brows twist indignantly, a muted groan vibrates along your throat, and you drowsily turn over on the couch to face the back cushions. You hear the bathroom door open and close, which eventually reminds you that you’re not alone in the house. Your eyes slowly blink open at the thought, momentarily blinded by the living room’s semi-darkness. It takes a minute to regain your bearings, you turn over a second time and notice soft threads of morning light seeping through the cracks of the closed blinds. It must be a new day already, though not very early based on how gloomy it still is outside. You have the reflex to check your phone for the time and realize that you don’t remember its last location. The cozy blanket falls to your lap when you sit up to look around the room. You’re rubbing the sleep out of your eyes as you recall the events of last night; Himeko calling, opening the door to a disheveled Kafka, rushing her to the bathroom for basic treatment… In between two of those, you must have discarded your phone somewhere here out of panic and didn’t touch it once afterwards, too preoccupied by the dizzying sensation of finally seeing past Kafka’s usual demeanor. Pulling the blanket off of you, you quickly scan the coffee table and check the couch cushions in case you threw the device on it yesterday and it fell through the cracks. Your fingertips touch the silicone of your phone case deep between the cracks of back pillows. You only struggle to pull it out for a few seconds, sighing in relief when you have it back in your hands, Tapping open the screen, you learn that it is currently a little past 5 in the morning and curse under your breath at the reminder of work in a couple of hours after spending the night on your couch. You scroll down the notification screen to see if you got any last night.

You’re confused at the amount of text messages you didn’t receive due to your phone being on silent. You blink rapidly at the dozens of concerned texts wondering how you are coming from your friends and some coworkers you get along with. You got a message from Himeko right after you hung up on her, but it’s just three question marks in succession so you make a mental note to call her back this evening. Opening the multiple texts a coworker sent you, you don’t comprehend them immediately. Your thumb hovers over the screen as you read the words “Stellaron Hunters” and “infiltrated”, and in a moment of denial, you exit the conversation to open another from a friend repeatedly asking if you’re safe. They sent an article attached to the first message; it’s a publication dating from around 6 PM last night posted by an IPC affiliated news company popular in the city. You don’t feel the instant your chest stutters at its contents. Unblinking, you stare at the urgent sentences reporting an incursion in the building you’ve worked in for years by a group of people you’ve only vaguely heard of from gossip around the office. The Stellaron Hunters, interstellar criminals notorious for their worth in credits, had the means to break into the mechanical engineering research lab of the Intelligentsia Guild with the goal of stealing hardware for a machine you remember personally working on about 8 months ago. You were part of the team of researchers assigned to this project to make sure it was a viable one before it could be produced. Once the green light is given, it gets sent to the lab and is out of your hands. You recall doing extensive research for it in a small time frame because it was a priority for your supervisors to start working on it as soon as possible. Now, the key component was the target of a larceny. 

As you read, the world outside of the screen and the muffling in your ears disappears. Your digit quivers over the words “multiple casualties”. Most of them are security guards who attempted to stop the thieves in action, but some of the engineers you once met in person have also been stated as losses. Your eyes sting from being kept open for longer than a minute, you can’t hear the trembling breaths clumsily tripping past your lips either. The death toll is 19 human lives— all for a piece of hardware. Your collar seemingly constricts your throat, choking you silent. You are trapped by sudden guilt, it teasingly snakes around your guts and squeezes them tight like tentacles around an easy prey. What-ifs rush at you as if mocking your cowardice; what if you hadn't worked on this project and hadn’t allowed it to see the day, what if you switched careers like you’ve been wanting to for a long time… You don’t look at your hands but your mind supplies the image of them dipped in blood regardless. The white page of the article burns your retinas, yet you scroll further down to read the end of it. The IPC has taken matters into their own hands and sent out forces to apprehend the culprits while they still hide in the city, which does nothing to alleviate your distress because the Stellaron Hunters wouldn’t have earned a reputation if they were so easily caught. You dread the idea of facing your coworkers again after such a tragic event, even more so the simple thought of walking back into that building knowing what transpired there. You finally squeeze your eyes shut with a shaky exhale, trying not to picture red stained floors and mechanical equipment. When you open them again, the attached pictures at the end of the publication freezes the blood in your veins.

This is your first time associating faces to the group of criminals who are only ever mentioned by their faction name. The phone screen turns dark from inactivity but the wanted poster is seared into the walls of your occipital lobe, creating a reality-perfect image of the woman’s enigmatic smile and unmistakable rosy irises. Your reflection stares back at you, expressing consternation, and in the same instant, the bathroom door opens again. Heeled footsteps make their way down the hallway like a foreboding rhythm, clacking across the wooden tiles on a mission to reach the front door. The weight on your chest grows heavier once they’re close, and they eventually come to a stop behind the couch you’re sitting on. Your fingers tremble at the sound of her voice near your ears. 

“You’re awake.”

It hits you, then. What happened last night, how Kafka received that gunshot wound, her advice from earlier this week—- it was a warning rolled in a layer of passivity, a peculiar request she couldn’t tell you the extent of without revealing her hand. If you had gone to work yesterday, one of the casualties could have been you. Her and the Stellaron Hunters must have been planning this for a while, perhaps weeks or months. You feel as though you’ve fallen in the ocean from a great height in the middle of the night, an icy wave of hurt clogs your ears and has you succumbing under the tumultuous waters. 

Kafka tilts her head to the side and makes a teasing remark about you not being fully up and about, rounding the couch to wave a gloved hand in front of your face. Your head mechanically turns to look up at her. She’s dressed in the clothes she wore yesterday that she put in the dryer as you were washing the dishes. Her hair is in its everyday loose ponytail, aside from the sunglasses over her head and down to her asymmetrical boots, she’s ready to go. Her coat is on, leading you to believe that she planned to slip away while you were still asleep. Kafka observes the brewing emotions on your face and the heavy rise of your chest, then takes a quick glance at the phone still in your hands. Her relaxed smile drops an inch. You stare at each other for a moment and she doesn’t say another word during that time, reading you through the purse of your lips and the contempt in your eyes. After a minute of quiet, she lazily crosses her arms under her breasts. 

“You don’t seem scared,” she says without breaking eye contact, like she’s close to figuring you out but is missing an important variable.

You don’t dwell on the fact that you are indeed not afraid of her or what she’s capable of, mainly wounded by the amount of stuff she’s kept from you. If you knew who she was back in that store, you would have never let her approach you no matter how intriguing she looked. It’s as you think this that you realize something else; her efforts in pursuing you coincide with the time you had just finished working on that major project and you can’t help thinking that all of it might have been premeditated. Your stomach churns. 

You manage to find your voice, swallowing once to wet your dry throat. “Were you never going to tell me?” Your sentence comes out weaker than it should have, bordering on pathetic affront.

“No.”

Her honesty gives you whiplash. For all she’s lied about and omitted, she chooses to be honest when it hurts the most. 

“It was always going to play out like this,” she continues, “some things are inevitable and all possibilities are already written. This way is less gruesome than the others, don’t you think?”

“What does that mean?”

Kafka smiles with her eyes closed but instead of a comfortable familiarity, it raises the hair on your arms. 

“Well, I’m happy to know that you heeded my advice. I even looked for you and got hurt in the process. Quite chivalrous of me, isn’t it?”

Her lighthearted comment sounds like it’s meant to assuage the maelstrom of feelings mounting inside of you. It is so ridiculous, so devoid of genuine meaning, that it only stokes the burning embers under your skin. You struggle to contain your outrage, the sight of her pleased smile and indifferent posture has your fingers curl into a fist.

“Aw, don’t make that face,” Kafka uncrosses her arms and pulls at the ends of one glove so it fits snuggly on her hand, “this is the best possible outcome. I made sure of it.”

“Out.” You’re surprised the word made it out of your clenched jaw, and by its frigidity. She looks you over and even after everything, you notice the slight dip of her lips. You repeat yourself. “Get out.”

“Still upset?”

“Leave, or I will tell the authorities where you are.”

In a flash, a light glimmers in Kafka’s eyes and her features twist with amusement. “Really? You’d be accused of complicity.”

You know that. Your anger is impulsive and a darker part of you wishes to cause her turmoil like the one she’s putting you through. Kafka watches you closely. Her attention doesn’t fluster you anymore. She finds whatever answer she’s seeking in the determined stare you’re giving her. 

“Gutsy…” Her muttered reply is more directed at herself but betrays her attraction. Her eyelids drop as she glances at your lips, then she meets your gaze with a fake sigh. “Oh, fine. I’ll see you later, then.”

“No—”

Kafka lifts a hand up to wave at you cheekily and is outside the door before you can tell her that you don’t want to see her again.

[girlgenius1111]

you talk of the pain like it's all alright

well i was too into this to not write part 2 right away, so here! the downside is i have not proofread oops.

warnings: nightmare, kind of a panic attack... worries of self harm, but no actual self harm. angst but more fluff :)

The drive to Alexia's apartment was uncomfortably quiet. You could tell that she was trying not to push you, which was not the norm. It made sense though; your actions this evening had really worried her, and she was at a loss for how to help you.

"Does your hand hurt?" She asked, breaking the silence, but keeping her eyes fixed on the road.

"Only a little," you replied, lying through your teeth. You'd rejected any meds from the physios, and your hand ached, pain pulsing from various areas of your knuckles, highlighting the multiple fractures.

"I'll give you something for it when we get home," she told you.

"No, really, it's fine." You mumbled. Your hand hurt because of your own actions, because you'd been stupid and impulsive. It should hurt. In the back of your mind, you realized how unhealthy this thinking was, but you pushed that thought away.

"If you're in pain, you should take something. Just because you did something dumb doesn't mean you deserve to be in pain," Alexia told you, very gently. You tried to hide your surprise at how accurate she was, completely taken aback by her perceptiveness.

Instead of responding, you turned to face out the window, watching the city pass by. Alexia sighed when you didn't say anything; you were really getting tired of that sigh. It sounded like it was full of disappointment in you, even if that wasn't the intention.

-----

You received what felt like the millionth sigh from Alexia when you walked into her apartment. She asked if you wanted to talk, obviously trying to be casual, but you shook your head, telling her you were tired.

"You can't avoid this forever, y/n."

"I'm just tired, Ale, I'm not trying to avoid anything." If she wasn't so worried, she would have laughed at the blatant lie.

"Fine. We'll talk tomorrow," she said, and you nodded, not yet sure how you were going to get out of that one. She was clearly frustrated with you, and you hated it. You already felt bad that you'd made her worried enough to make you stay with her, and the guilt you felt for not being honest was quickly replacing your resolve to keep everything to yourself.

Alexia pointed you towards the guest room, before disappearing to get you something to sleep in. You sat on the bed, running your hands over the soft comforter. Carefully, you took of your brace, wincing at the sight of your hand. It was swelling, already bruised. You were so frustrated, so defeated. You took a shaky breath, trying to stave off the tears that were rapidly gathering in your eyes.

"Okay, these might be kind of big on you, but they... should work..." Alexia returned, voice growing quieter as she looked at you. You were staring at the ground, eyes welled with tears, cradling your hand to your chest. Your lower lip was trembling, and you were blinking rapidly, trying to pull yourself back together. She hadn't seen you look so vulnerable in a really long time, and she wasn't sure how much you'd allow her to comfort you.

The Catalan placed the pajamas on the bed, before carefully walking over to where you were seated. You sucked in a big breath, prepared for another speech, but none came. Instead, Alexia was pulling you into her, arms wrapping around your shoulders, pressing your head into her stomach. Her thumbs moved rhythmically in circles against your shirt. Abandoning your resolve momentarily, you wrapped your arms around her, pressing your face into her. You clutched at her shirt desperately with your good hand, and she held you tighter.

She ran a hand through your hair, speaking quietly to you. "Everything is going be okay, pequeña, I promise. We're gonna figure it out, whatever it is."

She felt you nod almost imperceptibly against her, and took the small victory. She pecked the top of your head, before pulling back.

"Sleep now, you must be exhausted. And wake me up if you need me." She paired her words with a reassuring smile, waiting for you to nod again, before leaving the room.

You changed, wiping all traces of your small breakdown off your face, before climbing into the bed. You were exhausted, too exhausted to try to stay awake. You hoped you were tired enough to not have any nightmares, but luck hadn't really been on your side recently.

-----

Sure enough, you'd only been asleep for a few hours when your dreams soured. It was a familiar nightmare, one that you had frequently. It consisted of you missing a goal, a game winning goal. The fans screamed at you, your opponents mocked you. Worst of all, your teammates were angry too, your captains and Jona yelling at you for not doing better, for not being better.

In the other room, Alexia woke from a light sleep to the sound of you whimpering. She was out of bed in a second, almost falling in her haste to get to you. Entering the room, she saw you rolling around, tears leaking from your eyes. You were talking through your cries, but she couldn't understand what you were saying.

Crossing the room, she sat on the edge of the bed, placing her hands on your shoulders and shaking. You sat straight up, gasping for air. Your wild eyes found Alexia, and before you knew it, you were throwing yourself into her arms, letting out loud, unrestrained sobs.

"Alright, you're okay. It was just a dream. Slow your breathing down, you're safe, I've got you." You barely registered Alexia's words, just so grateful that it was a dream, that she wasn't really mad at you.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," You cried. You weren't really sure what you were apologizing for, but you couldn't seem to stop.

"Shh, y/n, it's okay. You don't need to be sorry," she told you. She was holding you tightly against her, rocking you back and forth; she wasn't sure why, but it felt right, and it seemed to work. You were calming down.

And as the panic faded, embarrassment took it's place. You pulled yourself out of Alexia's arms, a horrified look on your place.

"No, y/n, it's okay, really, don't-" You cut her off, leaping from the bed and all but sprinting into the bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind you. You sat against the wall, burying your face in your hands. You could hear Alexia knocking on the door, her panicked voice calling to you, but none of it registered. You were so distraught, so upset that she'd seen you like that. How could you let this happen?

"Y/n, please, please open the door. You don't need to be embarrassed, I'm not mad or upset. I just need to know that you're okay." Alexia was begging, not hearing any response.

Her mind was racing, thinking a million things at once. Whether she could break down the door, what was in there that you could hurt yourself with. She tried everything she could think of to get you to open the door, from pleading to using her stern captain voice, to soothing tones, back to pleading. It had been minutes, and you still hadn't answered. She could hear your ragged breathing, which was some comfort.

She didn't know what to do, how to fix this. Hands shaking, she grabbed her phone, calling the only other person she knew you trusted.

-----

Mapi hadn't expected today to turn out how it had. Not your red card, not your impulsive actions, your total disregard for yourself. She didn't expect the frantic call from Alexia in the middle of the night; Alexia was almost crying, a sign to Mapi that what was going on was bad. More than anything though, she didn't expect Ingrid to take charge the way she did, throwing shoes at her and rushing her to the car.

Ingrid drove fast, hands clenching the steering wheel. Mapi knew Ingrid was an empathetic person, a kind person, but she hadn't expected the Norwegian to join her in this, with this intensity. As Ingrid led her inside Alexia's apartment, determined, Mapi couldn't help but be so incredibly glad that her girlfriend was so perfect.

-----

Noise had faded for you, and all you could hear was the blood rushing in your ears. You needed to breath, you knew that. You also knew you needed to tell Alexia that you were okay, that you weren't going to do anything stupid. You were completely frozen though, all your energy focused on gasping little amounts of oxygen into your body, just enough to keep you conscious.

-----

Alexia was sat against the bathroom door, saying pretty much anything that came into her mind. The sound of you struggling was too painful for her to listen to, and she couldn't allow herself to do nothing. She only felt relief at the sight of Ingrid and Mapi. The three of them, together, could fix this, she was confident.

"What happened?" Mapi asked, flinching at the sound of your desperate breaths through the door. Alexia had been barely comprehensible when she called, and Mapi only really understood that something had happened, and you'd locked yourself in Ale's bathroom. Her and Ingrid took seats against the hallway wall near the door as Alexia responded.

"I think she had a nightmare. I went to wake her up and she was so upset, crying so hard. And I calmed her down but then she was pulling away and running out of the room. The look on her face. God she was so horrified that I'd seen her like that." Alexia's voice cracked as she spoke. "I've been trying to get her to open the door but she either can't hear me or she won't open it."

Mapi clenched her fists, before asking the question they were all thinking. "What's in there?"

Not 6 hours ago, you broken your hand punching a wall. They still weren't sure what your intention was with that, and the thoughts of what you could be doing, a locked door in between you, were terrorizing your friends.

Alexia just shook her head. "I don't know, I can't remember. I thought about breaking down the door, but... I don't want to freak her out any more."

Ingrid looked between her the other girls, the solution clear to her. "Did you try to pick the lock?" She asked. Alexia looked at her blankly.

"I don't know how to do that?" Alexia responded, sounding confused.

"Get me a bobby pin." Ingrid instructed, and Alexia scrambled off to her bedroom, uncharacteristically frantic.

"You... you know how to pick a lock?" Mapi asked, completely surprised. Ingrid seemed like the last person she knew that would have that knowledge. Ingrid was a rule follower.

Ingrid looked at her, fighting the urge to roll her eyes. "Yes, Maria. Doesn't everyone?" She remarked.

Mapi looked even more confused. "No?" She said, her response sounding like a question rather than an answer to one. Alexia returned then, thrusting about 8 bobby pins into Ingrid's hands. Again, Ingrid almost rolled her eyes, wondering what kind of fun the teens had in Spain that they didn't learn how to pick locks. She dropped all but one of the bobby pins, turning towards the door.

Alexia and Mapi exchanged looks, and in the time that took, Ingrid had the door clicking open. They all looked in, distressed, letting out simultaneous sighs of relief at the sight of you. You weren't okay by any means, hunched into a ball, hands pressed tight over your eyes. You weren't hurt though, and that's really all that they were concerned about.

The girls paused, unsure what to do now. It hadn't seemed like you'd noticed them enter the bathroom, and they weren't sure what they could do to without startling you. Ingrid, full of surprises today, took the lead, moving to sit next to you, careful not to touch you. The other girls sat too, albeit a little farther away.

You were so in your head, so not aware of anything around you. You knew someone was speaking to you, closer than they were before, but that was it.

"Hey, y/n, can you hear me?" Ingrid said, voice hushed. You gave no indication that you could. "I'm gonna put my hand right next to you. If you can hear me, I want you to touch my hand." Her voice was so soothing, it broke through the fog in your mind.

After a minute, you pulled your good hand away from your face, and shakily reached for her hand. Ingrid kept her's open, palm facing up, until you wrapped your hand around, gripping tightly.

"Good, that's really good, elskling. Can you move your other hand? It looks like it's hurting, honey." You realized Ingrid was right, and unclenched your broken hand, pulling it away from your face with a whimper. They could see your face now, cheeks flushed and eyes puffy. You avoided looking at the other girls, keeping your eyes trained on the ground even as you stretched your legs out, bringing your hand to your chest. You were still holding Ingrid's hand though, which she took to be a good sign.

"I'm gonna get you some ice, pequeña, is that okay?" Alexia asked, voice softer than you'd ever heard it. You nodded mechanically, because your hand really did hurt. Alexia stepped out of the bathroom, and Mapi spoke this time.

"Can you look at me, y/n? Please?" You'd never heard Mapi like that, desperation clear in her voice. You gave in, lifting your head to meet her eyes. Briefly, you wondered when the hell Mapi and Ingrid had arrived, but Mapi spoke before you could ask.

"You don't need to be embarrassed. You didn't do anything wrong, we're not mad at you, not even a little bit. We just want to help, cariño, can you let us do that?" There wasn't much reason to resist anymore, nothing really left to hide.

"Okay." You said quietly, voice raspy from crying. Alexia returned in time to hear your answer, and this time she was sighing out of relief. It was a nice change.

She sat beside you, gently taking your mangled hand in her own, and wrapping it carefully in an ice pack. You grimaced, squeezing Ingrid's hand a little tighter. In response, she moved her thumb up and down the back of your hand. Alexia held the ice pack in place, not really sure what to do now.

"When did you guys get here?" You asked finally, looking towards the couple.

"A bit ago. Ale called us, she wasn't sure how to get you to open the door." You nodded, feeling guilty for worrying them.

"How did you get in?" You wondered.

"Ingrid must have a criminal background she'd hiding from us, because she picked the lock in 2 seconds flat," Alexia responded, voice jokingly exasperated. You looked at Ingrid, shocked.

"Who doesn't know how to pick a lock!" Ingrid said again, looking between the three of you.

"Most people, I'd say. It's okay, amor, I think it's hot that you used to break in places." Mapi joked.

Ingrid glared at her, her response dying in her mouth when you pulled your hand from her grasp and shuffled closer to Alexia, leaning into her. The girls looked at each other, never really having seen you seek comfort out like this. Alexia wrapped an arm around you taking in your exhausted expression.

"How about we go to bed? We can talk in the morning, when you're feeling better." She suggested, and you agreed.

"I promise I'll talk to you guys." You said quietly. Your friends smiled at you. You really didn't want Ingrid and Mapi to leave, but you weren't really sure how to ask for that. Luckily Alexia's mind reading powers seemed to have returned full force.

"You guys wanna crash in the extra bedroom?" She asked. The couple nodded, and you looked confused. Where were you supposed to sleep?

Alexia pulled you to your feet, holding part of your weight up as you were unsteady on your legs. "Cmon, I'm not letting you out of my sight." She said, leading you into her room. The couple peeled off into the extra bedroom, wishing you a goodnight. Alexia pulled you towards her bed. You were so passed arguing, you let her guide you onto the bed, scooting under the covers. She climbed in next to you letting you wriggle into her. She wasn't sure if you were being snuggly because you were exhausted, or emotional, but she didn't care.

For the first time in weeks, she felt like she had an idea of what was going on in your head, and if you needed physical comfort, she was more than happy to provide it.

You felt safe, comforted, even if anxiety still fluttered in your chest at the thought of talking to your friends in the morning. You passed out almost instantly, regardless, and Alexia followed soon after.

-----

part 3 probably tomorrow because i'm obsessed with this