#my heart hurt every time I think about it and the fandom and their angst-loving crap isn’t helping 💔💔💔

[with-my-calamitous-love]

and if it all ended tomorrow (would i be the one on your mind?)

ya! katsuki bk. x reader

katsuki is finally discharged from the hospital and returns home to you after nearly losing his life in battle. coming home to you, he realizes all he has to lose. angst/comfort, and huge dedication to my mha-writing mutuals because you deserve all the comfort and love in the world. @crushmeeren @suksatoru @peachsukii @osamucide (i don't think you write for this fandom but love regardless) @whenanafallsinlove

rewatched the bnha ending and thought to write this. this is timeskip! katsuki so its different incidents, but still, slight bnha ending spoilers. i love you, eternal sunshine

song: intro (end of the world)

“its my line of work, idiot.” he’s told you numerous times. “its part of being a hero.”

“that doesn’t mean i have to like it, kats.”

“yeah?” he scoffs, pulling you closer into him, scars littering his muscles, battle wounds he wore proud. he couldn’t care less about some marks on him if it meant he was doing his job right.

“i���m not gonna die. i’m too good for that.” he says, making sure you’re looking at him in the eye. you smile a little at his cockiness. what a dick.

“i love you, katsuki.”

“love you too, dumbass.”

✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.*

even with his words, the confidence you fell in love with, he still almost got himself killed. his life would have drained. you nearly lost him. it still hurts, even if it is just almost.

all your clothes in the closet he built for you. 2am, raging at building manuals, but still managing it because he can’t say no to you.

but right now, you’re only wearing his clothes. the smell of his cologne is fading, but the warmth is still there. if he were here, he’d probably scold you for not doing your own laundry. but when getting out of bed is difficult? laundry is an afterthought. if he were here, he’d understand that.

when you got the news of katsuki’s injury, the world begin spinning faster. the wind picked up, running through branches and leaves, swirling around you and snatching the breath out of your lungs. knowing his recklessness in his line of work left a lingering worry in the back of your mind, a thought you hoped would never come to fruition. but injuries were inevitable, even life threatening injuries ones. the world keeps spinning even when a pro hero gets hurt on the job.

but seeing him in the hospital, with about 10 different wires attached to him, made the world stop.

the day he went into a coma, so did the world. the sun ceased its heat, so did the night and its chill. his heart kept beating thanks to some high tech machine. yours stopped at the sight of him, on the brink of death.

and the worst part? this wasn’t the first time. you were privy to the first incident- the hit he took to the heart, protecting somebody else, that stopped his heart completely. so in a way, this shouldn’t be new. but it still stings the same. because to you? its so much more than losing your boyfriend.

it's knowing that as a hero, he belongs to the world, and not just you. it's knowing that this is what he signed up for after years of training and dedication. its knowing that the best you can do is support him and wait for him at the end of every battle. its knowing that katsuki would live, and eventually, die a hero.

visits started everyday. then once a week. then only when you were missing him bad, and just wanted to hurt yourself by seeing him on that hospital bed, slow breathing and weak grasp.

and before you knew it, a month has passed with nothing. even with all the reassurance from the doctors that he would be okay, based on his health and resilience, you couldn’t believe it if he wasn’t the one telling you.

he’s still alive, but its hard not to mourn his presence in your apartment. because missing katsuki is such a physical thing- it's his absence, felt in every sense. like his hero mask left on your bedside, but never him wearing it. like a song he told you to listen to because its "good fucking music" but cutting it off right before the chorus. like feeling the ghost of his fingertips over your skin, lips kissing over your shoulder, but remembering that no ones there. an embrace that haunts you, long after its gone.

and soon enough, you're crying again.

anything serves to pass the time- tv, sleeping, reading- but the lingering ache in your chest wants to make itself known. and then there's the fact that even if katsuki made a full recovery, this wouldn't be the last time you're choked down with anxiety, fearing for him in his life, feeling it slip from your fingertips. he's a hero and he belongs to the world. but you do also wish he could just be yours. maybe a little selfishly so.

your laptop is blaring with some show you don't care about. you've changed hoodies again- because this one isn't soaked with tears and you want to wear his clothes- even if you took it from the laundry bin. food sits on the stove, maybe a little burnt, but you're probably not going to eat it anyway. you wonder if he's thinking of you, too, somewhere in murky dreams, your smile cutting through the clouds and shining on him. you wonder if he knows you'd be there, even if the world ended tomorrow. that he'd be the one on your mind. and you wonder if you'd be the one on his.

certainly, you are on his mind to some degree, otherwise he wouldn't be banging the front door with his fist, impatiently waiting to see you.

you yell that you're already coming, rudely pulling the door open to whoever decided to interrupt your pathetic crying session. when you see that it's katsuki? the ground beneath your feet dissolves.

"hey." is all he says at first. he peers into the apartment, seeing the obvious signs that you've been alone. he'd be mouthing off about the unfolded clothes and the cheap fast food wrappers in the trash if he wasn't so focused on the sheer fact that he was finally with you again.

his lips almost curve into a smile, seeing how you can't find the words for a moment. you scramble, almost embarrassingly so, to piece together a sentence: "what... when did you get out?"

he shrugs: "maybe an hour ago."

you have maybe a million follow-up questions, but the tears reach your eyes before words reach your lips. and he's quick to see it, practically catching you into a hug, like your legs were about to give up. he lets himself into the house, shutting the door behind him while pulling you into his chest. just 5 minutes ago, you were scrolling through photos and videos, pretending that a screen could be as good as the real thing. now, you're crying in his arms, his bones and flesh wrapping around you like a poignant reminder that he's alive.

"its okay dumbass, i'm here." he says, head resting on top of yours. he's particularly gentle this time around, cradling your face and making sure you see him. his heart winces a little when he sees the physicality of how bad you missed him- slumped shoulders, eye bags and tear stained cheeks. its the determination in him that wants to end that for you. "i've got you. you're fine."

after a few minutes, you compose yourself, taking a deep breath. "they just let you leave? like that?"

"they didn't let me, i made them." he smirks.

you shoot him a look, because of course he left without better judgement, and he has the audacity to laugh. this is the asshole you wanted back so badly.

"it's fine. i feel fine." he reassures you. "why would i spend longer in some hospital when i've got you waiting for me?"

oh, the urge to fall back in love with him at his loyalty. but you know better: "that's not the point, kats. you could stilll be hurt."

"i'm not."

"okay, but... you still almost died."

he takes a deep breath, knowing that you're right but never saying it out loud. he almost died. you almost lost him, and he can see how heavily its weighed on you. the fact that he could mean so much to someone like this, that someone could mourn the very though of losing him? that someone would think of him, even if the world was ending, the way you have?

maybe he's the one falling in love with you, all over again.

he opens his mouth, about to say something. something probably about how its his duty, that its everything he's worked for. but none of that absolves the pain of knowing his heart almost stopped just a month ago.

"i know you recovered and i'm glad you did. but you almost died. again. and don't lecture me about how it's your job."

his expression is something between guilt and resolve. he's never been good with words, unless it was coming up with stinging insults or a series of cleverly strung-together swear words. but he's still determined to try, like he is with everything he loves.

"babe, i know you're worried." he says, stroking your cheek. "and i really fucking love you for that. but it's my job. it's who i am."

and he's also right. he's a hero, the very foundation of the man you fell for. and mas much as it hurts to see, you'd never want him to stop being who he is. because katsuki bakugou, at his core, is a protector. even if its with his life.

you let out a shaky breath, just looking down. apart of you doesn't want him to see you, see how much of a mess you are. though katsuki knows damn well he'd love you anywhere, at any time, all dolled up or crying in his arms. if you can love him at his weakest, when he's knocked out on a hospital bed for the millionth time? he can love you at yours, too.

"idiot, look at me." he says gently, lifting your face back up.

"what?" you whisper, scared tears will fall again if your voice dares to go higher.

"its my job to protect people, yeah. but i'm not going anywhere. not when i've got you to come home, too. you're my reason, idiot. you're the reason i fight."

theres a pang in your chest when he says that, deep sincerity woven into his words as he speaks. every hero has a something to protect, something to live for- and for katsuki, it's you. without hesitation or doubts.

"you're forgetting i'm still here." he says, taking your hand and pressing a kiss to your knuckle. he sits you down on the couch, kneeling in front of you so you can really see him- see his breathing, his moving eyes and warm, loving lips pressed to your skin.

"i'm alive. i'm okay. you don't have to worry, dumbass. and you definitely don't have to be a mess 'cause of me."

you crack a fraction of a smile at that. "you think i'm a mess?"

he huffs a bit of laughter, because you both know that mess is one of the only words that encapsulates what its like to miss katsuki- anger, grief, and confusion thrown onto neglected laundry and albums of photos. but more importantly, mess describes what its like loving him: messy morning kisses, hair sticking up and messy, lovelorn fingerprints all over his heart. "yeah, i think you're a mess right now. only a little though."

you roll your eyes, ignoring that fluttering, nervous feeling he somehow still gives you even after all these years. "yeah, well, forgive me for missing you."

"you know i missed you too." he adds, simple words that resonate deeply with both of you. yet, you still can't resist teasing him a little: "how could you? you were asleep."

he chuckles softly. "i felt it in my bones, my dreams, i don't know. all that spiritual bullshit." he gets up from his knees to embrace you again.

"you might not wanna hug me. i haven't showered in like..." you trail off, embarrassed of the answer. he rolls his eyes, offended by the idea that he cares about that.

"yeah, yeah. i've been in a coma for a month, dumbass. i doubt i smell like roses right now."

"is that your way of saying you don't care?" you smile.

"its my way of saying i love you." he smiles back. "idiot."

because katsuki would love you, even if you haven't showered. if the sun refused to shine, you'd still love him. if the moon went dark, you'd still be his. if it all ended tomorrow, you'd still be the one on his mind.

and that's something he'd risk it all for.

"we should probably still shower, though."

"together?"

"obviously, idiot."

[urdreamydoodles]

hi! It's my first time making a request for the X-men fandom I've been reading some of your headcanons and I have like them a lot Could you make some X-men HCs with their non-mutant partner (the reader) getting kidnapped by an anti-mutant organization? (for all of the characters?) a mix of both angst and fluff

X-Men x Non-Mutant!Reader

You get kidnapped by an anti-mutant organization

Characters: Logan Howlett, Remy LeBeau, Kurt Wagner, Erik Lehnsherr, Scott Summers, Jean Grey, Wade Wilson, Rogue & Wanda Maximoff

Logan Howlett aka. Wolverine

- When Logan finds out you’ve been kidnapped by an anti-mutant organization, he goes into an immediate rage. His animal instincts take over as he tracks down the people responsible. There's nothing in the world he wouldn’t do to get you back safely, and the X-Men know better than to stand in his way when he’s like this.

- Every second you’re gone eats at him. He can’t sleep or even think straight, pushing himself to the limit. He keeps replaying moments with you in his mind, from the way you always reach for his hand in public to the laughter you share at quiet dinners. It’s a constant reminder of how much he stands to lose.

- When he finally finds where you’re being held, Logan’s unrelenting. He tears through guards and security, claws flashing, with only one thing on his mind: getting to you. No matter the odds, he’s unstoppable, determined to leave a trail of destruction in his wake until he has you safe in his arms again.

- The moment he sees you, injured but alive, he’s by your side instantly, gently pulling you close, despite the blood and rage coursing through him. Logan’s touch is careful, almost tender, as if afraid of hurting you further. For a moment, he lets himself feel relieved, breathing you in to remind himself you’re real and alive.

- In the aftermath, Logan can’t leave your side. He stays close, his hand always on you in some way, whether he’s holding yours or resting a protective arm around your shoulders. His eyes are intense, watching over you with a fierce protectiveness that only eases slightly as he feels you start to recover.

- Once you’re safe and back at the mansion, Logan’s softer side starts to show through. He cooks you meals, often in the middle of the night when you can’t sleep, his silent way of caring for you. There’s a gentleness to him that surprises even him, and he realizes just how deeply he cares about you.

- Logan blames himself, though he doesn’t say it out loud. He’s never been good at keeping the people he loves safe, and he worries about putting you in danger just by being with you. But when you reach for his hand and tell him you wouldn’t have it any other way, he can’t help but hold on tightly, grateful to have you in his life.

Remy LeBeau aka. Gambit

- Remy’s heart practically stops when he finds out you’ve been taken. His mind races, and for a moment, he struggles to keep his calm, charming façade. The usually smooth-talking Gambit is left speechless, but his eyes harden with determination. He knows he’ll stop at nothing to bring you back.

- Throughout the mission, Remy is uncharacteristically quiet, his playful attitude replaced with a laser focus. His mind is entirely on you, and he blames himself for not protecting you better. In his heart, he’s already planning all the ways he’ll make it up to you once you’re safe.

- When he finally reaches you, his relief is palpable. He immediately reaches for you, running his hands over you to check for injuries, whispering words of comfort and reassurance. His voice shakes slightly as he promises he’ll get you out of there, his usually confident tone softened by the intensity of his emotions.

- Remy is incredibly gentle as he helps you back, supporting you every step of the way. He keeps glancing over at you, his eyes full of worry and guilt. He keeps telling you he’s sorry, though you reassure him that none of this is his fault. But Remy, ever the charmer, makes it his mission to make up for this, showering you with affection at every turn.

- Once back home, Remy dotes on you constantly. He brings you your favorite foods, even sneaking into the kitchen late at night to make you Cajun dishes his family taught him, hoping the taste will bring you comfort. His touches are gentle, hands lingering on you as if grounding himself through the feel of your skin.

- Remy won’t leave your side, and he’ll often stay up all night, making sure you’re okay. He’s vigilant, watching over you with a protective gaze. He even pulls out his deck of cards, showing off little magic tricks to make you smile, doing anything he can to help you forget the ordeal.

- The whole experience leaves Remy feeling even more attached to you. He confesses that you mean more to him than he can put into words, his usual bravado softened. He holds you close, his forehead resting against yours as he murmurs how grateful he is to have you back, promising to never let anyone take you from him again.

Kurt Wagner aka. Nightcrawler

- Kurt’s heart sinks when he hears the news. Fear isn’t something he’s accustomed to feeling, but the thought of you in danger fills him with a dread he can’t shake. He clings to his faith, praying silently as he prepares to go to whatever lengths necessary to bring you back safely.

- As he tracks down your location, Kurt can’t help but feel guilty. He worries that by being with him, he’s put you in harm’s way. But with every prayer he whispers, he also promises to do whatever it takes to get you back, even if it means facing his deepest fears.

- When he finally sees you, his relief is overwhelming. In an instant, he’s teleporting to your side, wrapping his arms around you tightly. Kurt’s hands shake slightly as he holds you, his usually calm demeanor slipping as he whispers reassurances, his accent thick with emotion as he promises to take you away from this place.

- Kurt is incredibly gentle as he helps you, teleporting you away in small increments to avoid straining himself too much. Each time he holds you close, he’s filled with gratitude that you’re still alive. He kisses your forehead softly, holding you as if you’re the most precious thing in the world.

- Once you’re back at the mansion, Kurt doesn’t stray far from your side. He stays up with you at night, sitting by your bedside and holding your hand, his thumb brushing softly over your knuckles as he quietly hums soothing lullabies, hoping to comfort you as you rest.

- Kurt is more affectionate than usual, often hugging you tightly, as if afraid you might disappear again. He’ll sit with you in the quiet of the mansion chapel, where he finds peace, hoping that his faith might offer you some comfort as well. He whispers promises to keep you safe, speaking softly into the stillness.

- This ordeal deepens Kurt’s love for you, and he makes it clear how much you mean to him. He’ll often cup your face in his hands, looking into your eyes with a gaze full of warmth and adoration. He thanks you for your bravery and your resilience, assuring you that he’ll always be there to protect you, no matter the cost.

Scott Summers aka. Cyclops

- When Scott learns that you, his non-mutant partner, have been kidnapped by an anti-mutant organization, it’s like the ground disappears beneath him. The composed leader the X-Men look up to feels his own world shattering. He struggles to focus, feeling a heavy weight of guilt, wondering if your association with him made you a target.

- From the moment he’s aware of your capture, Scott dedicates himself to getting you back. He spends hours researching the organization, analyzing their tactics, and coordinating with the team. Every plan he makes is meticulous, fueled by his desperation to have you back in his arms. His love for you drives him, pushing aside any other mission or priority.

- When he finally infiltrates the compound where you’re being held, Scott is relentless. His normally strategic, controlled demeanor is edged with raw emotion as he navigates through, using his optic blasts without hesitation. As he gets closer, he can feel his restraint slipping, each blast growing stronger, propelled by his anger and fear.

- The moment he sees you, bruised but alive, Scott feels a rush of relief mixed with overwhelming guilt. He gathers you into his arms, holding you so tightly, afraid to let go. His voice cracks slightly as he apologizes, promising over and over that he’ll make sure you’re safe from now on, his hand never leaving yours as he leads you out.

- Back at the mansion, Scott becomes the ultimate caregiver, doing everything in his power to help you recover. He stays close, bringing you water, your favorite snacks, and even some books he thinks might distract you. Scott finds comfort in taking care of you; it’s his way of showing how much he loves you, though he’s hesitant to say it outright.

- Scott can’t shake the guilt, though, and you notice him working even longer hours, studying tactics to prevent anything like this from happening again. He’s distant, and you have to remind him that none of this was his fault. He eventually opens up, admitting his fears of failing to protect you, and you reassure him, letting him know that you feel safe with him.

- Despite the angst, Scott finds a deeper appreciation for your presence. He tells you more frequently now how much you mean to him, his normally composed demeanor softening every time he’s with you. There’s a tenderness in the way he reaches for your hand or lingers in a kiss, grateful every day that you’re still here with him.

Erik Lehnsherr aka. Magneto

- When Erik discovers you’ve been captured by an anti-mutant organization, he feels a rage he hasn’t known in years. His anger is ferocious, laced with an icy resolve. To him, this is personal; he’s already seen the damage that prejudice can cause, and now it’s directly affected someone he loves.

- Determined to bring you back, Erik moves swiftly and decisively. He doesn’t hesitate to use every resource at his disposal, mobilizing his network and even enlisting some of the more ruthless members of the Brotherhood. He’s willing to cross any line to ensure your safety, and nothing will stand in his way.

- When Erik finally reaches the facility where you’re being held, he’s a force of nature. The metal in the walls bends and twists at his command, his powers fueled by an unrelenting determination. His rage is terrifying, and even the guards tremble as he storms through, focused entirely on finding you.

- When he sees you, injured but alive, Erik’s hardened expression softens in an instant. He holds you carefully, as though you’re the most precious thing in the world. In that moment, his fury fades, replaced by relief and a fierce protectiveness. He gently cups your face, promising that you’ll never be put in harm’s way again.

- Erik doesn’t let you out of his sight afterward. Back at his base, he’s uncharacteristically attentive, bringing you blankets and encouraging you to rest. He’s not one for excessive words, but his actions speak volumes, and you feel his care in the way he tends to you, his usually steely demeanor softened.

- As the days go by, Erik’s protective nature only grows stronger. He becomes even more vigilant, determined to prevent anything like this from happening again. He checks in with you frequently, offering you quiet moments together where he lets his guard down, allowing you to see the softer side he shows to few.

- This ordeal brings Erik closer to you than ever before. He openly admits his love for you, something he doesn’t take lightly. When he holds you, there’s a sense of finality, as though he’s decided that you’re his, and he’ll do anything to protect you. There’s a renewed tenderness in his gaze, and his touch lingers a little longer, a reminder of just how much you mean to him.

Jean Grey aka. Marvel Girl / Phoenix

- When Jean learns that you’ve been kidnapped, she’s shaken to her core. Despite her powers, she feels helpless, unable to sense you through the mental blocks the anti-mutant group has put up. Her fear and frustration build, and she can’t help but blame herself, wondering if she could’ve somehow prevented this.

- From the moment she hears of your capture, Jean is relentless in her efforts to find you. She spends hours meditating, trying to extend her telepathic reach, even risking pushing herself to her limits. Her determination is unwavering; you’re her world, and she’s not going to let anyone take you from her.

- When Jean finally breaks through the barriers shielding you, she immediately teleports to the location with the team, her powers radiating a barely contained fury. She moves through the building with a fierce grace, using her telekinesis to shield and protect while dismantling any threat in her way.

- The moment she reaches you, she rushes to your side, a look of pure relief on her face. She cups your cheeks, her hands trembling slightly as she checks you over, her eyes brimming with tears. In that instant, Jean’s fierce façade slips, replaced by an overwhelming tenderness as she pulls you into a tight embrace, whispering how grateful she is to have you back.

- Back at the mansion, Jean takes care of you with a level of attentiveness that leaves no room for protest. She insists on making sure you’re comfortable, her gentle voice and calming presence reassuring you that you’re safe now. She’s almost overly protective, always close by, as if afraid you might disappear again.

- Jean opens up to you about her fears, admitting how deeply the experience affected her. She confesses that she’d been terrified of losing you, and her vulnerability brings the two of you closer than ever. She holds your hand often, her telepathic touch conveying the depths of her love for you, making sure you feel her presence even when words aren’t enough.

- In the days that follow, Jean’s love for you becomes even more evident. She’s more affectionate, often resting her head on your shoulder or pulling you close in quiet moments. Her telepathy allows her to sense even the smallest flicker of discomfort or fear, and she’s there to soothe you instantly, determined to protect you and keep you safe, no matter what.

Wade Wilson aka. Deadpool

- When Wade finds out you’ve been kidnapped by an anti-mutant organization, his usual joking manner disappears in an instant. A new side of Wade emerges—cold, calculating, and singularly focused. He’s furious at the idea of anyone hurting you, and his rage is far more intense than even he expected.

- Wade wastes no time in tracking down every possible lead. He calls in favors, shakes down every contact he has, and leaves no stone unturned. His sarcastic quips turn into harsh threats, and he’s fully prepared to leave a trail of destruction to get to you. Even his friends are wary of him in this state, but Wade doesn’t care. All he cares about is bringing you back safely.

- When he finally finds the facility where you’re held, Wade becomes unstoppable. Guns, swords, explosives—he uses everything he’s got, tearing through the compound with deadly efficiency. His mind is filled with thoughts of you, his adrenaline heightened by worry and anger. This time, he’s not holding back.

- The moment Wade reaches you, his facade cracks. He rushes to your side, cradling you in his arms, his heart racing as he checks you over for injuries. You can tell he’s trying to joke to ease the tension, but his voice shakes slightly. He gently brushes a strand of hair from your face, muttering something about how you “better not leave him again” because he’d miss you too much.

- Back at home, Wade becomes surprisingly tender, even clingy. He makes it his mission to cheer you up and get you to laugh, pulling out every ridiculous antic he can think of. He’ll make you pancakes with your initials in chocolate chips, bring you random stuffed animals, and tell you exaggerated stories just to see you smile.

- Wade is incredibly attentive and protective now, always checking in on you and staying close by. He even starts sleeping next to you more often, “just in case,” though he tries to play it off with his usual sarcasm. You know he’s shaken up by the ordeal, and you catch him watching you with a rare, serious intensity when he thinks you’re not looking.

- The experience strengthens Wade’s love for you, and he becomes more open about his feelings. He might joke and tease, but his words carry a deeper meaning now. He’ll hold your hand, bring you flowers with a smirk, and even tell you how much you mean to him in quiet moments, all while hoping you’ll never have to go through something like that again.

Anna Marie aka. Rogue

- When Rogue learns that you, her non-mutant partner, have been captured by an anti-mutant organization, her heart drops. The normally confident, spirited Rogue is shaken, feeling an overwhelming sense of fear and helplessness. She’s ready to fight, but there’s a part of her that’s terrified at the thought of losing you.

- Rogue wastes no time rallying the team. She pushes herself to her limits, determined to rescue you no matter what it takes. Her usually warm smile disappears, replaced by a fierce determination. Every punch, every fight is fueled by her love for you and her desire to bring you home.

- The moment Rogue finds you, she rushes to your side, her gloved hands reaching out gently. She desperately wants to hold you but hesitates, afraid of hurting you with her powers. Instead, she brushes her fingers lightly against yours, whispering that she’s there for you, relief flooding her voice.

- Once you’re safe back home, Rogue becomes incredibly caring and protective. She’s constantly checking in, making sure you have everything you need. She hates the thought of you ever feeling vulnerable again and becomes fiercely protective, standing by your side whenever she can.

- She can’t help but feel guilty, wondering if your association with her put you in harm’s way. You have to remind her that none of this was her fault, reassuring her with soft words and gentle touches. She’ll rest her head on your shoulder, finding comfort in your presence as you both begin to heal.

- Rogue is extra affectionate now, even though she has to be careful about touching you. She finds little ways to show her love, like slipping a note into your pocket, baking your favorite treats, or leaving small gifts for you to find. Every gesture is her way of reminding you how much she cares, even if she can’t express it physically as much as she’d like.

- The experience deepens Rogue’s love and appreciation for you, and she opens up in a way she hasn’t before. She’ll share stories, her fears, and her dreams, letting you into her heart like never before. You can see the warmth in her eyes whenever she looks at you, her love for you more visible and cherished than ever.

Wanda Maximoff aka. The Scarlet Witch

- When Wanda finds out you’ve been taken by an anti-mutant organization, her initial shock quickly turns to fury. She’s not just upset—she’s ready to unleash every ounce of her power to find you. The fear of losing you makes her powers flare, and she’s determined to get you back, no matter the cost.

- Wanda wastes no time, delving into every magical and practical means she can to locate you. She consults with anyone who might have information, even bending reality itself to catch a glimpse of where you are. Her determination is fierce, and she’s willing to go to any length to save you.

- When Wanda finally locates you, her heart races with relief and worry. She teleports into the facility, her powers swirling around her as she dispatches guards with ease. She’s entirely focused on you, a wave of protective magic enveloping you the second she finds you. She pulls you close, whispering words of comfort, her voice gentle but filled with emotion.

- Back home, Wanda is incredibly attentive, constantly watching over you to make sure you’re safe. She’s softer, quieter, and her worry is clear in the way she keeps checking in. She brews you herbal teas, makes sure you’re comfortable, and fills the space with calming spells to help ease any lingering anxiety.

- Wanda can’t help but feel a pang of guilt, wondering if her powers or status as an Avenger put you at risk. She opens up to you about these feelings, letting you know how deeply she cares and how much she blames herself. You reassure her, letting her know that none of this was her fault and that you feel safe with her.

- She becomes more open about her feelings, often sharing her thoughts, fears, and dreams with you in a way she hasn’t before. Wanda shows her love through little gestures—leaving enchanted flowers by your bedside, lighting up rooms with soft, warm lights, and casting protective wards around you. Her presence becomes a comforting constant, reminding you of how much you mean to her.

- The experience brings you closer, and Wanda becomes even more affectionate, lingering in hugs and holding your hand whenever she can. Her love for you shines brightly, her protective side now stronger than ever. She cherishes every moment with you, thankful that she still has you by her side and determined to protect you at all costs.

[newobsessionweekly]

To protect and to love

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Tim Bradford x rookie!reader Fandom: The rookie

Summary: You unintentionally make Tim jealous, resulting with nothing good but a confession.

Action | Angst | Fluff

A/N: It's a long one I know. But I HAD to put some action and angst in it, i couldn't help it. Honestly I love it and I love to write about Tim. I hope you like it as much as I do. Have a wonderful day bubs and take care of yourselves. Lots of love

Warning: Mention of hurting, one "fucking" slipped somewhere in this, not proofread yet.

Requested: Yes Words: 4.4k GIF is not mine, credits to the owner!

The atmosphere in the bar was alive with the buzz of conversation and the clinking of glasses as you settled in with your colleagues. It was one of the many nights you and the rookies met after a long shift. It was some bond between the four of you even since academy and it felt nice. They started to feel like a family to you.

As Nolan approached with three drinks in his hands, the fourth person occupied the chair beside you, making your mouth to open in surprise and your heart to race. Tim, looking so perfectly even out of his uniform, so casually in his clothes, wearing the same grumpy expression.

"Oh, sorry sir, didn't know you'd join us today." Nolan excused himself for ordering only three drinks.

"Yeah, didn't know I'd be here either." Tim murmured under his breath, giving you an acknowledging smile. After weeks of persuasions from both you and Lucy, he finally gave up.

"I'm glad you came." you told him as you turned to give him a smile. He did the same, but it wasn't a natural one.

"Yeah, well, don't get used to it. This isn't really my scene." Tim admitted sharply, the wave of adrenaline and excitement that flowed over you, broke as soon as his grumpy expression appeared.

"So, Tim, what do you usually do after work?" Lucy asked, flashing him a mischievous grin.

Tim shrugged, taking a sip of his drink. "Usually just head home and catch up on some game I missed or hit the gym. Not really into the whole social scene."

"Come on, Tim, live a little!" Lucy chimed in, nudging him playfully. "You gotta let loose every once in a while."

You couldn't help but smile at the banter between your colleagues, grateful for the opportunity to spend time with them outside of the confines of work. But as you glanced over at Tim, you noticed a hint of tension in his behaviour, his jaw clenched slightly as he watched the scene unfold.

"So, Y/N, how's life as Tim's rookie treating you?" Nolan asked, turning to you with a grin.

You chuckled, shaking your head. "It's definitely been an adventure. Tim keeps me on my toes, that's for sure."

Despite being his rookie for some time now, you had never spent much time with Tim outside of work. But tonight was different, and you were determined to make the most of it.

Tim's gaze flickered to you, "If it's not a living hell, it means you have potential to become a good cop." you squinted at his words only for a few seconds before a sense of pride to wash over you as you smiled at him "But you're not there yet, so keep your head in the game."

Before the conversation could continue, you excused yourself to go buy another round of drinks. As you made your way to the bar, you felt the weight of several lingering gazes on your back, casting a subtle aura of discomfort. Some eyes stopped over your body as you asked the bartender for a refill, giving them one of the best views. Tim's eyes followed each glance, noting the subtle gestures and expressions of the onlookers. And he counted them one by one.

The handsome bartender took his time to do the refill, as his eyes examined you, flashing you a charming smile.

"Hey there, beautiful." his voice was low and seductive if you think about it, but it wasn't close enough to the one you actually found yourself drawn to. "What brings you here tonight?"

As Tim was left alone at the table with the rookies, he found it almost impossible to focus on their conversation, as his gaze kept drifting back to where you stood at the bar, engrossed in conversation with the bartender.

"Oh, just blowing off some steam after a long day at work." you responded politely and considered giving him a chance.

At this point, you couldn't shut people off for some feelings that are in vain anyway. You need to go back in the game if you didn't wanted to be a single 45 year old cop, redecorating your house on your own between shifts like Nolan. That wasn't nice, you scolded yourself for the thoughts.

"Sounds like you could use a drink then. Let me guess, you're a cop, right? You've got that look about you." the bartender asked with a grin as he wiped down the counter with a cloth.

Tim's jaw clenched with frustration, a surge of jealousy coursing through him as he observed the subtle flirtation unfolding before his eyes. He couldn't shake the feeling of unease that gnawed at him, a sense of possessiveness clawing at his chest as he struggled to contain his emotions.

"Tim, is everything okay?" Lucy's voice broke through his reverie, her concerned expression drawing his attention.

Tim forced a tight-lipped smile, his features taut with tension as he tried to mask his inner turmoil. "Yeah, I'm fine," he replied curtly, though his tone betrayed his true feelings.

You chuckled at the bartender assumption, shaking your head "No, no. Nothing like that. I work for the city, but I surely don't have what it takes to be a cop." you admitted, drinks in your hand, lingering a little bit more.

"Ah, close enough though." he leaned over the counter, taking his chance to have a closer look at you. "Mark" he introduced himself with a friendly smile.

"Y/N" you responded politely, as you played his game, leaning in his direction.

"So, what do you say we grab a drink together sometime, Y/N ? I know a great place just around the corner." he proposed, his eyes sparkling with genuine interest.

Mark's easy charm and attentive conversation had left a positive impression on you, and you found yourself looking forward to meeting him.

But Lucy wasn't convinced by Tim's response, her brow furrowing with concern as she regarded him intently. "Are you sure? You seem a little...off," she persisted, her voice laced with concern.

Tim hesitated, torn between his desire to confide in Lucy and his instinct to keep his emotions guarded. "It's nothing, just...work stuff," he deflected, his tone clipped as he avoided her gaze.

Lucy nodded in understanding, didn't want to cross any boundaries, so she just let the subject drop. Anyone could see from afar that Tim was uncomfortable, little did anyone know he was feeling like that because you're not around.

Not even Tim knew why he couldn't take his eyes off of you or why he felt like his heart tightened with every laugh travelling to the table.

"Yeah, we could do that." you replied to Mark, considering his offer before hearing the unmistakable beat of footsteps you can't possibly erase from your mind.

Unable to stand by and watch any longer, Tim made his way over to you, determination etched on his face. "Hey, everything okay here?"

You glanced up, surprised to see Tim standing before you. "Oh, uh, yeah, everything's fine. Just getting the drinks."

The handsome bartender eyed Tim warily, sensing the tension in the air. "Is this your boyfriend?"

Tim's jaw clenched at the question, his gaze narrowing as he locked eyes with the stranger. "Something like that."

"Uh, Mark, this is Tim, my trainer from the job." you clarified, trying to make as bearable as possible the atmosphere shift.

Mark nodded in understanding, though a flicker of confusion crossed his features at Tim's abrupt attitude and he regarded your TO with a polite smile, extending a hand in greeting.

"Hey there, I'm Mark. Nice to meet you," he said, his tone friendly despite the underlying tension.

But Tim's response was anything but friendly. With a frustrated growl, he slammed his fist against the counter, the sound echoing through the bar. "Excuse me," he muttered tersely before turning on his heel and storming out of the bar.

His fists were clenched with frustration and your heart sank with a mixture of confusion and disappointment. You watched him go, your mind reeling with unanswered questions and a deep sense of hurt.

Confusion clouded your thoughts as you tried to make sense of Tim's sudden outburst. Had you done something wrong? Was he angry with you? The uncertainty gnawed at you.

But beneath the confusion, a flicker of disappointment burned within you. You had hoped that tonight would be a chance for you and Tim to bond outside of work, to bridge the gap between you. But his sudden departure had shattered those hopes.

Tim's mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Jealousy burned hot within him, a primal instinct that had ignited the moment he saw another man hitting on you.

But beneath the jealousy, a deeper sense of frustration simmered. Frustration at himself for allowing his feelings for you to cloud his judgment, for letting his jealousy get the better of him. He knew he had no right to stake a claim on you, no right to feel possessive or territorial. But try as he might, he couldn't shake the feeling of unease that gripped him whenever he saw you with another man.

As he made his way through the crowded streets, Tim's thoughts were consumed by visions of you and the handsome bartender, laughing and flirting as if he didn't exist. The image burned like a brand on his mind, fueling his anger and driving him further into the depths of despair.

Monday morning is usually a pain in the ass, but with the events that occurred last Friday at the bar, and Tim's attitude towards you, harsher and grumpier than usual, it was a morning out of the burning hell. Your heart was racing as he instructed you, curt and on point, on what will happen next.

May have been a few days since the incident at the bar, but the memory lingered in the back of your mind like a stubborn shadow. Despite your best efforts to push it aside, the tension between you and Tim was palpable, a silent undercurrent that simmered beneath the surface.

You knew that he was testing you, pushing you to your limits in an attempt to prepare you for the cop life, but beneath his tough exterior, you couldn't help but sense a hint of something else—something that felt uncomfortably like jealousy.

The morning sunlight bathed the patrol car's interior as you and Tim cruised through the LA streets, the radio's steady hum punctuating the silence between you.

Your usual chitchat about the rookie book is now replaced by a brooding silence, his knuckles white as they gripped the steering wheel. You stole a glance at him, noting the furrowed brow and the distant look in his eyes, and couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness at the gulf that seemed to have grown between you.

The radio crackled to life, dispatch's voice cutting through the quiet."7-Adam-19, we have a noise complaint at 123 Oak Street. Caller reports a disturbance in one of the apartments. Please respond."

Tim glanced at you, and you tried to read something in his eyes as he keyed the mic. "Copy that. We're en route."

There was nothing to be seen in his eyes, but you took your time to admire him in silence, your mind playing all the memories since you became his rookie, couldn't stop the thought that maybe the flicker that burned inside every time you touched his arm by mistake, every time he smiled at you, every time he made you smile, was indeed something. You always tend to question your feelings, rather they're justified or in vain, and this one was surely in vain.

There's no way a man like him, so put together, so ambitious — so handsome— would have even the thought of liking a rookie, you thought. You considered this whole situation too stupid, probably every single woman that comes past Tim fall in love with him.

As you pulled up to the apartment complex, the sounds of raised voices and slamming doors greeted you, sending a shiver down your spine.

"This could get messy," you muttered, your voice tense with apprehension.

"And we're prepared for this kind of situations. But if you don't feel like it, you can give up the badge." his voice is harsh and his expression is far from nice.

"That's not what I meant." you mouthed under your breath and followed Tim into the building.

As you reached the door of the apartment in question, you exchanged a wary glance with Tim before knocking firmly. The door swung open to reveal a chaotic scene inside, a group of men engaged in a heated argument that showed no signs of abating.

"LAPD! Hands where I can see them!" your voice cut through the chaos like a knife, but if anything, it only seemed to stoke the flames.

In an instant, the situation erupted into chaos, with shouts and curses filling the air as fists flew and bodies collided. You and Tim sprang into action, replaying in your mind everything you learned from the academy and your TO. But just as you thought you had gained the upper hand, the situation took a sudden turn for the worse. A shout rang out from the far end of the room, followed by the sound of shattering glass as a fight broke out between two of them.

With adrenaline coursing through your veins, you and Tim moved swiftly to intervene, but the situation quickly spiraled out of control. Amidst the chaos, you found yourself grappling with one of them, seven feet tall man and muscular construction, your heart pounding in your chest as you fought to maintain control.

Tim knew not to mess up his personal life and his professional one, he did it once and didn't end well. He weighed his decision over and over again, continuously adding pros and cons to the equation. It was safe for you to deal with this kind of men? Probably not, but if he would go soft on you and pick an easy target it would mean he let his feelings step out and fail you as your TO.

All Tim could do in this situation was to have your back no matter what and make sure you get home safe to meet with that stupid bartender. That thought run fast like the wind and bought back your laughter from that night hunting him once more. The lovely eyes you gave that man and the smile so bright, a smile he saw for the first time.

Your focus narrowed on subduing the individual before they could inflict harm. In the heat of the moment, you failed to notice another figure advancing towards you from the side.

Suddenly, a sharp blow struck your side, sending a jolt of pain radiating through your body. Gasping, you stumbled backward, momentarily disoriented as the room spun around you.

"Y/L/N!" Tim's voice cut through the haze of pain, his tone laced with concern as he rushed to your side. "You okay?"

Grimacing, you nodded weakly, trying to push through the pain as adrenaline surged through your veins. But with each breath, the pain in your side seemed to intensify, a constant reminder of the mistake you had made in letting your guard down.

Tim's grip tightened on your arm, his eyes scanning you for signs of injury as he assessed the situation. "Officer down," he said firmly into his radio, his voice tinged with urgency "Send backup and R/A."

Despite the pain coursing through your body, you forced yourself to focus, pushing aside the fear and uncertainty that threatened to overwhelm you. With Tim's support, you managed to regain your footing, the determination in his eyes giving you the strength to move on.

When one of them hurt you, the rest managed to move the circus outside the building, now armed and pointing the guns to their heads. You handcuffed your attacker and Tim dealt with the one stuck under you in the ambush. As you pushed the man down to the car with trembling feet, barely holding steady, you heard sirens cut through the air, signaling the arrival of backup. With a sense of relief washing over you, you spared a quick glance toward the parking lot, where a team of officers rushed between the men, their presence a welcome sight amidst the chaos.

"LAPD! Drop your weapon!" Nolan began, approaching the chaos as their eyes counted the police officers surrounding them. "Hands where I can see them, on the ground, face down!" he demanded as you and Tim put the suspects in the backseat of the car. "Spread your arms and legs!"

As the men followed Nolan's instructions, you tried to join your colleagues and handcuff the suspects, but Tim's hand stopped you in place. "Go sit down. You did enough." he instructed, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Despite the urgency of the situation, there was a steely resolve in his eyes as he focused on ensuring your safety above all else. Feeling a surge of frustration welling up inside you, you opened your mouth to protest, but Tim's stern gaze silenced you before you could speak. With a heavy heart, you complied with his orders, a paramedic guiding you to the ambulance for a search.

The sound of Tim's voice rang out through the chaos, his words echoing in your mind as he barked orders to his fellow officers. But amidst the chaos and confusion, it was clear that Tim's focus was solely on the task at hand, his attention unwavering as he worked to bring the situation under control. And as you watched from the sidelines, a sense of hurt and disappointment washed over you, the sting of Tim's words cutting deep as you struggled to make sense of the situation.

With the suspects now securely restrained, Tim turned his attention back to you, his expression tight with frustration as he approached. "What were you thinking, officer Y/L/N?" he demanded, his voice laced with anger as he confronted you.

Caught off guard by his harsh tone, you felt a lump form in your throat as you struggled to find the right words to respond. "I...I didn't see them, sir," you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper as you met Tim's gaze.

But Tim's expression remained unforgiving, his frustration palpable as he glared down at you. "You could have gotten yourself killed out there," he snapped, his words biting as he chastised you for your reckless actions.

As Tim guided you back to the patrol car and began the journey back to the station, the air between you was heavy with tension. There was an awkward silence that seemed to stretch on endlessly, punctuated only by the sound of the radio crackling with dispatch updates.

As Tim sat behind the wheel, a whirlwind of conflicting emotions churned within him. He couldn't shake the sense of shame that gnawed at him, a bitter reminder of how his feelings for you had clouded his judgment during the call.

Seeing you hurt had unleashed a torrent of emotions within him, overriding his instincts as a cop and blinding him to the dangers that still lurked nearby. In that moment, all he could think about was protecting you, shielding you from harm at any cost.

But in his haste to ensure your safety, he had let his guard down, allowing the suspects to slip through his fingers and jeopardizing the success of the mission. The weight of his mistake bore down on him like a crushing weight, a stark reminder of the consequences of letting his personal feelings interfere with his professional duties.

As he drove back to the station, the silence in the car was suffocating, amplifying the cacophony of thoughts that raged within his mind. He couldn't shake the sense of disappointment that gripped him, a bitter reminder of how he had let you down when you needed him most. When you needed him to be your role model, the person you should've learned from.

You couldn't help but feel a sense of unease gnawing at you, the weight of Tim's disappointment hanging heavily in the air. With each passing moment, the silence grew more oppressive, suffocating you with its intensity.

Glancing over at Tim, you feel a pang of guilt at the sight of his clenched jaw and furrowed brow. His usually expressive eyes were now unreadable, a mask of frustration and disappointment that sent a shiver down your spine.

As you wrestled with your own feelings of guilt and self-doubt, you couldn't shake the sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. Tim's silent treatment spoke volumes, a clear indication of his disapproval of your actions during the call.

Despite your best efforts to break the silence, Tim remained resolutely silent, his gaze fixed firmly on the road ahead. "Tim, are you okay?" you insisted. But your words seemed to fall on deaf ears, his gaze fixed straight ahead as if lost in thought.

"I'm fine, officer Y/L/N." he muttered tersely, his voice clipped and devoid of emotion. But you could see the tension in his shoulders, the furrowed brow that betrayed the turmoil that raged within him.

You weren't about to let him brush you off that easily. "No, you're not," you insisted, your voice tinged with concern. "Something's bothering you, Tim. I can tell."

He shot you a sharp glance, his eyes flashing with irritation. "I said I'm fine," he snapped, his tone sharp and biting. But you could see the pain that flickered behind his eyes, a vulnerability that he tried so desperately to hide.

"Tim, please," you pressed, reaching out to touch his arm gently. "You know you can talk to me, right? Whatever it is, I'm here for you."

For a moment, Tim seemed to waver, his defenses crumbling under the weight of your words. But then, as quickly as it had come, the moment passed, and he withdrew from your touch, his expression hardening once more.

"I don't need your pity, Y/N," he spat, his voice laced with bitterness. "I can handle this on my own."

But you refused to back down, refusing to let him push you away. "This isn't about pity, Tim," you countered, your voice steady and unwavering. "I care about you, and I want to help. But you have to let me in."

Tim's jaw clenched with frustration, a surge of emotion bubbling to the surface as he struggled to contain his feelings. "I cannot change my feelings for you, believe me I fucking tried," he blurted out, the words tumbling from his lips before he could stop them.

The admission hung heavy in the air between you, a raw and unfiltered glimpse into the depths of his heart. And as you looked into his eyes, you could see the pain and anguish that swirled within them, a reflection of your own inner turmoil.

"I need to know that you're safe. Because I care about you," he continued, his voice softer now, tinged with vulnerability. "I kind of like you. And I lost control today because you got hurt. And I lost it too at the bar because you were flirting with that good of nothing. "

The words hung in the air between you, a silent acknowledgment of the truth that lay beneath the surface. And as you stood there, locked in a moment of raw honesty, you knew that your relationship with Tim would never be the same again.

The weight of his confession hung between you like a heavy fog, casting a shadow over the otherwise quiet interior of the car.

You glanced over at Tim, his expression guarded and unreadable as he focused on the road ahead. The air was heavy with emotion, a silent barrier that seemed to stretch on for miles.

"Tim, I..." you began, your voice faltering as you struggled to find the right words. But Tim cut you off before you could finish, his tone sharp and dismissive.

"I don't want to talk about it, Y/N," he snapped, his hands tightening around the steering wheel. "Just forget I said anything."

But you couldn't let it go that easily, couldn't let him push you away when all you wanted was to be there for him. "Tim, please," you pleaded, reaching out to touch his arm gently. "I need you to understand that I feel the same way."

His eyes flickering with uncertainty as he glanced over at you. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I mean what I said." taking a deep breath, you summoned all of your courage, pushing aside your fears and doubts as you spoke "I have feelings for you, ok? But I tried to push them away because I didn't want to complicate things. But after you told me..."

Tim's grip on the steering wheel tightened, his knuckles turning white as he processed your words. For a long moment, neither of you spoke, the silence stretching between you like an unbridgeable chasm.

Then, finally, Tim let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping with defeat. "I don't know what to say, Y/N," he admitted, his voice tinged with resignation "Things are complicated now, for sure." he chuckled, smiling at you as he parked the car.

"You and me, dinner. Tonight." you demanded, trying to play it off like nothing happened. "We talk about it like grownups."

"It's a date, then." he nodded in agreement, forcing his lips to form a straight line, to hide his dumb smile. "I-I.. I mean if you want to." he stumbled upon his words, scratching the back of his head nervously.

"Yes, Tim. I'd love that." you smiled at him as you both took the men from the backseat and guided them through the corridor of the station.

"Tim and Y/N sitting in a tree—" one of the men started mocking the scene they witnessed, but you and Tim cut him off

"Shut up."

[kenthoe]

PART 1 of my x reader fic recs from someone who reads almost every fandom there is

ps. some of them have smut but it is mostly angst and a little bit of fluff

please show our dear writers some love and support by liking and reblogging their works ⁠♡

☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ

• the hunger games

☆ finnick odair

our song and dance series by @mrs-kmikaelson

— 1 2 3 4 5 6

• formula one

☆ oscar piastri

you're the only friend i need by @requiemforthepoets

we never talked about it by @cherry-leclerc

matchmaker smau by @harrysfolklore

☆ carlos sainz

lolita by @cherry-leclerc

☆ max verstappen

reckless driver by @cherry-leclerc

forced

let me be the lighter series by @nostappen

5 times by @disneyprincemuke

something stupid smau by @linaslivery

☆ charles leclerc

for you, always by @theonottsbxtch

newsflash by @pucksandpower

☆ franco colapinto

el coqueto by @theonottsbxtch

☆ pierre gasly

♡ by @ghoststann

butterflies by @ghoststann

☆ lando norris

part 1: the other woman part 2: margaret smau by @linaslivery

• mcu

☆ bucky barnes

unsolved series smau by @shurisneakers

• stranger things

☆ steve harrington

the four steps between (best) friends and lovers by @stevebabey

speed of sound series by @lovrily

1 2 3

nine facts, one lie by @stevebabey

• harry potter

☆ draco malfoy

too little, too late by @sleep-i-ness

☆ james potter

stop, you're losing me by @amnmesias

down bad by @prongsiepotter

about you by @ma1dita

☆ cedric diggory

pencil sketches by @wreckofawriter

☆ oliver wood

part 1: the hate game part 2: all's fair in love and war by @heartthrobin

• lockwood and co

☆ anthony lockwood

better this way by @mazywrites

the language of longing by @fleetingvow

expecto patronum series by @novelizt

• shadow and bone

☆ kaz brekker

bloody hands by @rubysunnday

bet to lose by @nezuscribe

bruises and scars by @kasagia

• the vampire diaries

☆ damon salvatore

hanahaki by @keehomania

• criminal minds

☆ spencer reid

tired flights by @mentally-gone002

sparks fly series by @avis-writeshq

love me not by @bau-drabbles

be so stupid by @mariasont

part 1: you're still a traitor part 2: wait for your love by @uranometrias

don't think i don't like you by @luveline

clingy by @street-smarts00

you were like an angel to me by @januaryembrs

☆ aaron hotchner

spontaneous phenomena by @luveline

dance until we're bones by @atlabeth

long time coming by @uranometrias

haunted part: 1 2 by @bau-drabbles

if things go bad by @luveline

part 1: ignited spark part 2: old flame part 3: burned hearts by @messylxve

the night we met part: 1 2 3 by @bau-drabbles

• outerbanks

☆ rafe cameron

you're so gorgeous it actually hurts

• bridgerton

☆ anthony bridgerton

(not so) simple series by @atlabeth

☆ benedict bridgerton

love in bloom series by @bosbas

dog day afternoon by @gogobootz1

[prettygirl-gabi]

Title: This Dream Isn’t Feeling Sweet

Pairing: Reader x Jana El Alfy

Fandom: UConn Women’s Basketball

Warnings: Heavy angst, intense argument, emotional avoidance, mild language, themes of emotional neglect, crying, eventual fluff and reconciliation

Inspired by: “Ribs” by Lorde

Summary: A little space shouldn’t hurt a lot

Thank you @shikaizer for passing this upon me I hope I did justice for you and anon

🏷️: @paigeshirleytemple , @unknowgirlypop , @yailtsv , @nicebellee , @sitawita , @thatonesuschix , @vamptizm , @elalfywhore , @starfulani , @authentic-girl03 , @paige05bby , @paxaz535 , @azziswrld , @jadasogay , @paigeluvvr , @melpthatsme , @lessi-lover , @courtsidewithlani ,

I remember the moment everything cracked.

Jana had just spilled a cup of Sprite and cranberry on me—again—laughing without apology like it was no big deal. And maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it shouldn’t have been. But something in me twisted at the sound of her laugh. Sharp. Careless. Like she didn’t notice I hadn’t laughed with her in weeks.

Like she didn’t notice me at all.

She reached over with a handful of napkins, still grinning. “My bad, babe,” she said through a breathy chuckle. “I’m such a klutz—here.”

And I don’t know what came over me, but I slapped the napkins out of her hand.

The silence was immediate. Unnatural.

Her smile fell. “…Seriously?”

“I told you to move the damn cup, Jana. Three times.”

Her brows furrowed, voice lowering. “It’s just a drink. What’s actually wrong?”

I stood up from her bed, my hoodie soaked, my heart louder than the speaker still softly playing “Lover’s Spit�� in the background.

“You. Us. Everything.”

She blinked like I’d slapped her instead of the napkins. “What are you even talking about?”

“I’m talking about the fact that we haven’t had a real conversation in weeks. That I feel like I’m dating a ghost who only shows up when it’s convenient.”

“That’s not fair,” she snapped, finally standing too, her voice louder now, sharper than I’d heard in months. “You know how demanding basketball is right now. You know this is a huge season for me.”

“And you don’t think volleyball is for me?” I shouted back, chest rising fast, voice cracking from the weight of everything. “You think I don’t have weight on my shoulders too? That I don’t wake up every damn morning with pressure clawing at my throat?”

“Of course you do!” she yelled. “But I’m trying! I’m trying to balance it all and you’re making it seem like I’m choosing—”

“You are choosing, Jana!” I cut in, loud enough that the walls could’ve shaken. “You’ve already chosen and it’s not me! You show up for practice, for the coaches, for your team—hell, you show up for strangers before you show up for me.”

“That’s not fair!” she screamed, tears welling in her eyes. “You know how much I love you!”

“Then prove it!” I roared, voice breaking in half. “Because right now it just feels like I’m the only one in this! Like I’m screaming into a void hoping you’ll hear me!”

“I’ve been drowning too, you know!” she barked back, hands shaking. “But I don’t throw it in your face every time I feel alone!”

“No, you just disappear instead,” I spat, eyes burning. “You shut me out, you act like I’m a distraction, like needing me is a burden.”

“That’s not what I meant!” she cried, stepping forward.

“But that’s what it feels like!” I snapped, stepping back. “Like you only want me when it’s convenient. When the gym is empty, when the lights are low, when it’s quiet enough for your guilt to whisper instead of scream.”

“I see you,” she whispered, voice trembling. But it didn’t sound convincing. Not even to her.

“No, you don’t,” I said, quieter now, but colder. Final. “You haven’t in a long time.”

And with that, I turned away, hands shaking as I opened the door.

She didn’t stop me.

I left her dorm without another word.

I didn’t answer her texts after that night.

I crashed at my teammate Dani’s place instead. I told her it was just for a night.

It turned into a week.

Seven days of silence from my side. Jana tried. She really did. First it was texts. Then voice notes. Then a stupid meme she knew would make me laugh. And when none of that worked, she left a note under the door of my dorm:

“I’m sorry. I hate that I made you feel like you were second. You’re not. You never were.”

-J

I folded it up without reading it a second time.

Because that pain? That ache in my ribs every time I thought about her? It made me feel like I was seventeen again, scared of needing someone more than they needed me. Like I was being left behind while she ran toward greatness.

Volleyball became my escape. The early morning lifts. The late-night practices. The burn in my arms after a brutal drill. It was the only time I felt quiet inside. Focused.

And yet… even on the court, I caught myself glancing at the bleachers, hoping to see her there.

She wasn’t.

Because I hadn’t told her about the games. Because I’d told myself I didn’t want her there.

Because it hurt too much to want her still.

It was after a night game—a win, not that it mattered—when I finally cracked. I sat in the locker room long after everyone left, my phone lighting up with another missed call from Jana.

I stared at her name for a long time.

And then, for the first time in over a week, I called her back.

She answered on the first ring.

“Hi,” she breathed. Soft. Careful.

I swallowed hard. “Hi.”

Neither of us spoke for a beat. Then she whispered, “You played tonight, didn’t you?”

I nodded, even though she couldn’t see me. “We won.”

“I’m proud of you.”

That was all it took.

The tears started before I could stop them, silent and hot, sliding down my cheeks as I pressed the phone harder to my ear.

“I missed you,” I said, broken.

“I never stopped missing you,” she replied.

We didn’t fix everything overnight.

There were still hard conversations. Still tears. Still resentment and guilt and things we had to learn to say out loud.

But we met in the middle.

Jana started showing up to games, even when she was exhausted. I started leaving practice five minutes early just to sit on the gym floor with her and talk about her day. Not basketball. Not stats.

Her.

We talked like we used to. Curled up in bed, giggling at nothing, sharing socks, finishing each other’s sentences. Laughing until our ribs hurt.

It wasn’t perfect.

But it was real.

One night, weeks after the argument, we were sprawled across her bed, faces inches apart, the ceiling fan casting lazy shadows above us.

She reached over, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you really think I didn’t see you?”

I hesitated. “I think… I thought you forgot how.”

Her face fell, and I hated the hurt in her eyes. But she didn’t look away.

“I didn’t,” she said quietly. “I just got so caught up trying to be the best version of me that I forgot you already loved the version I was.”

I bit my lip. “I still do. Even when I hated you for a minute.”

“I deserved it.”

“No, you didn’t,” I whispered. “We were both drowning in pressure and pretending we weren’t. And I… I pushed you away because I was scared you’d eventually leave on your own.”

“I won’t,” she said. No hesitation. “Not unless you ask me to.”

I looked at her then, really looked. The same girl who once fell asleep with her head on my shoulder during movie night. The same girl who stayed up all night once helping me write an essay I’d procrastinated on. The same girl who spilled a drink on me and smiled too wide.

I leaned in and kissed her.

Soft. Sure. Like a promise.

And when we pulled back, she was smiling the way she used to.

“Stay tonight?” she asked, fingers brushing mine.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

                 -Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

                             -prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

[moonlight-joy]

A Storm Between Us

MASTERLIST

Fandom: Bridgerton

Request: Anon - Could I request some Anthony bridgerton x wife reader angst. Maybe they had a fight or something. It’s all up to you but maybe with a happy ending

Pairing: Reader/Anthony Bridgerton

The storm outside rattled the windows of Bridgerton House, but the real storm was brewing in the master bedroom.

"I do not understand why you must always be so stubborn!"

Anthony’s voice was sharp, his frustration laced into every syllable as he paced before the fireplace, running a hand through his already unruly dark hair. His movements were agitated, restless—the embodiment of barely contained exasperation.

"Must you question everything I do? Every decision I make?"

You stood near the vanity, arms crossed tightly over your chest, your own temper barely contained. The candlelight flickered, casting long shadows against the walls, mirroring the tension stretching between you.

"Because, Anthony, you act as if I am some fragile thing to be kept behind closed doors!" Your voice rose, your breath unsteady. "You do not discuss things with me—you dictate them."

Anthony inhaled sharply, his jaw tightening. He flexed his fingers at his sides as if trying to steady himself.

"Forgive me for wanting to protect my wife."

Wife.

The word struck you like a blow. That was what you were—his wife, his partner. And yet, in moments like these, you felt more like a possession.

"I do not need protecting, Anthony. I need to be heard." Your voice was quieter now, but no less firm.

Anthony’s expression hardened, the muscles in his jaw tightening.

"You do need protecting." His voice was clipped, as though the words burned his throat. "You do not see the way people look at you, whispering about how the Viscountess oversteps her bounds. I am simply trying to shield you from that."

The air between you shifted, the weight of his words settling like stone in your chest.

"So you wish to hide me away, then?" Your voice wavered, raw with hurt. "So that society does not find me… improper?"

Anthony hesitated. A flicker of something—uncertainty, regret—crossed his features. But he did not speak.

His silence was damning.

Your breath hitched, and you swallowed against the lump rising in your throat. "I see."

Anthony sighed, running a hand over his face. His anger was already fading, replaced by something more complicated—guilt, perhaps. He reached for you, fingers brushing the sleeve of your gown.

"That is not what I meant—"

But you stepped out of his grasp.

"Then perhaps you should think more carefully before you speak." The sharp edge of your words betrayed the ache you were trying so hard to mask.

A long silence stretched between you.

The fire crackled. The wind howled against the windowpanes. But neither of you spoke.

Finally, you exhaled shakily, your gaze dropping to the floor.

"I cannot fight with you tonight, Anthony."

Your voice was barely above a whisper, but it was enough.

Anthony’s chest tightened, the weight of the evening pressing against his ribs. He wanted to say something—to fix it, to take it all back—but the words refused to come.

Before he could gather himself, you turned away—your back to him, your heart pounding.

And for the first time since you had become his wife, you climbed into bed alone.

Anthony had never known a night so long.

He sat in his study, a glass of whiskey untouched on the desk before him. The fire before him had burned low, casting restless shadows along the walls, flickering with the same unease that coursed through him.

The house was quiet, save for the relentless ticking of the clock.

Each second dragged painfully.

His words replayed in his head, each one heavier than the last.

He had not meant to make you feel as though he wished to hide you away. God, that was the farthest thing from the truth.

He adored you, was utterly consumed by his love for you.

And it terrified him.

Anthony Bridgerton had spent his entire life being responsible for those he loved. He had watched his father die, had held his mother as she shattered. He had vowed never to let himself care so deeply that it might destroy him.

And then you had come into his life—fierce, stubborn, breathtaking.

And now, he was losing you.

And it was his own damn fault.

With newfound determination, he rose from his chair and strode toward your shared chambers.

The candle beside the bed had burned low, casting the room in soft golden hues.

You lay curled beneath the covers, your back to the door, your breathing slow but uneven.

Anthony hesitated, his fingers curling into fists at his sides.

Then, quietly, he stepped inside, shutting the door with a soft click.

"Love."

His voice was barely above a whisper, but you stiffened nonetheless.

He approached the bed cautiously, as if afraid he might shatter the fragile truce between you.

You did not turn, but your voice reached him through the dark.

"Why are you here?"

Anthony swallowed. Then, without a word, he sank to his knees beside the bed.

"Because I cannot bear to be anywhere else."

Silence.

Then, slowly, you turned.

Your eyes—glassier than before, but just as strong—met his.

Anthony took a shaky breath.

"I was wrong."

Your lips parted slightly, but you said nothing, waiting for him to continue.

"I did not mean to make you feel as though I wished to silence you, to keep you from the world. That is not what I want."

He reached for your hand—relief flooding him when you did not pull away.

"I only wanted to protect you because the thought of losing you—"

His voice cracked, and he exhaled sharply before continuing.

"It terrifies me."

Your fingers tightened around his.

"You are not your father, Anthony," you said quietly.

"You do not have to carry every burden alone."

His eyes burned as your words settled deep within him.

"I am your wife, Anthony. I want to share the weight of it with you."

Anthony let out a shaky breath, pressing your hand to his lips.

He had spent so long believing that love was a weakness—something dangerous, something that could bring a man to his knees.

And here he was.

Kneeling before you.

Not because he was weak.

But because loving you made him stronger.

"Then let me start again," he murmured.

Your brow arched, amusement flickering beneath the fading hurt.

"How do you intend to do that?"

A small, self-deprecating smile tugged at his lips.

"For one, I will try listening before speaking."

Then, gently, he shifted onto the bed beside you, pulling you into his warm, steady embrace.

"And for another—"

He pressed a kiss to your temple, his breath a promise against your skin.

"I will never let another night pass where you feel alone."

You let out a soft breath, your head resting against his chest.

For a moment, you did not speak. You only listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your cheek. And then—so softly, he barely heard it—

"You promise?"

His arms tightened around you, his lips pressing into your hair.

"With everything I am."

And as the storm outside slowly faded, so too did the storm between you.

Because you had found your way back to each other.

As you always would.

Please support my work with like and comment

[scary-grace]

11. YOU CAN’T RUN FROM ME FOREVER (scarier prompts) if you are open to it for Shigaraki Tomura

Hi there, anon! When you sent this prompt, it lit my brain on fire, and produced a fic that's cleared 50k words -- and a fic that's much darker than what I usually write. Your call on whether it counts as scary or not. If you hate it, send me another ask with any kind of prompt, and I'll rewrite the fic for you!

Savior - a Shigaraki x f!reader fic

When you broke up with Shigaraki Tomura at the end of high school, you never expected him to stalk you for years, and when you and Chisaki Kai got married, you thought you'd finally broken free. But life with Kai turns quickly from a dream into a waking nightmare, and with every month that passes, you can feel your chances to escape dwindling. Almost out of time, with no good choices left, you turn to the one person who swore he'd never give up on you -- and hope he's less interested in stalking you than he is in saving your life.

AU - no quirks. Past (and future) Tomura x reader, present Overhaul x reader. Dead Dove Do Not Eat. Depictions of dubcon, domestic violence, and reproductive coercion (Overhaul). References to past stalking behavior (Tomura). Angst. Hurt/no comfort for the majority of the fic. If you find any of the above too triggering to read about, please go check out some of the other fics in the fandom! there are lots of them waiting to be discovered and loved. beta read by @threadbearsweater (thank you so much!!). dividers by @cafekitsune

Chapter 1

Before you got married, going out with Shigaraki Tomura was the worst mistake you’d ever made. Sometimes you try to reassure yourself that you were in high school, that high school is where people are allowed to make mistakes. But most people’s high school mistakes are little things – a bad outfit, a bad haircut, a bad grade, a speeding ticket or a broken curfew. Things parents yell over, and ground you over, too. They’re not the kind of mistake that follows you for the rest of your life. Short of getting pregnant and dropping out of school, dating Shigaraki Tomura was the biggest mistake it was possible for you to make.

He didn’t look it. They never do. He was quiet and kept to himself for the most part. The friends he did have were delinquents to a fault, who picked on most people but never on you. Nobody picked on you. You found out later that it was because of him, but not because he told you. Looking out for you wasn’t something Tomura expected you to be grateful for. It was just something he did.

And Tomura wasn’t bad, exactly. He was a perfectly typical high school boyfriend, the quiet almost-loner that girls like you think needs fixing, the kind of boy girls like you leave in the dust when you realize they won’t change. You stuck it out a lot longer than most, because you liked being with him and he treated you well – so well that your friends were jealous, even friends who’d never date him in a million years. But the two of you were never going to work long-term, so you broke it off the night before you moved away for university. It broke your heart more than you thought it would, but you told yourself it was the right thing to do.

But it wasn’t. It wasn’t, because instead of accepting it and moving on, Tomura followed you. He followed you for the next seven years.

He never threatened you or did anything to make you legitimately scared, but that also meant that he never did anything you could point to when you called the police. No angry emails or notes. No forced entry – the cops always assumed you forgot to lock the door or shut the window, no matter how many pictures you took of the door or window after you locked it. No stolen valuables, but when something turned up missing, you always knew who had it. You knew Tomura would give it back, whatever it was, if you asked – but then you’d have had to ask him, which meant talking to him. Stonewalling was the best you could do, even if it didn’t work. At least he wasn’t stealing your underwear.

You tried to hold it together, but by your third year at university, you were a wreck. Your grades crashed and kept falling, and you couldn’t tell anyone. All you could do was keep it together and hope no one noticed. Eventually, someone did.

You met the man you married in the tutoring center your senior year, when you were trying to salvage a chemistry class you’d failed as a sophomore and were in the process of failing again. Kai was a grad student, tutoring because someone made him, and he was better at it than everyone else combined. One night you were there late, almost to closing time. It was dark out, and even though Tomura had never threatened or hurt you, the idea of being followed through the darkness by something you couldn’t see terrified you. You panicked. Kai saw.

What is it? he asked in that dry, calm voice he always used to explain things you couldn’t grasp. Are you afraid of the dark?

No, you said. It’s just –

What?

You wouldn’t believe me, you said. Kai didn’t put up with excuses. You knew that already. It’s fine. You should go.

You were both standing up, backpacks slung over your shoulders. Kai sat back down. Try me.

You explained everything. It spilled out in a stammered wash of tears, your chest tightening until you could barely speak, and all the while Kai sat across from you, perfectly calm. He was going to tell you that you were crazy. You wanted him to. You wanted him to say you were out of your mind, that nobody would stalk you of all people for going on four years straight, and you’d use his reassurance that you were crazy to be scared to force yourself to walk home in the dark.

Kai, who never touched anyone, reached across the table. You thought he was going to put his hand on your shoulder. Instead he cupped your cheek, smudging away your tears with his thumb. His behavior is ridiculous, but I can’t fault the impulse, he said. I’d have a hard time letting go of you, too.

A warning bell rang distantly in your head, but the relief of being listened to, being believed, drowned everything else out. I’ll walk you home, Kai continued. He took his hand back. You don’t need to be scared of him as long as you’re with me.

And Kai was right, because Kai is always right, because the laws of the universe would bend and break before they’d do anything but prove him correct. You don’t need to be scared of Tomura any longer. Now, almost four years after you married Kai in the culmination of a whirlwind romance, you know that there are worse things than Tomura – and you married the worst thing of all.

Your cheek stings, and you keep your face pressed against the cool tile floor of the bathroom, knowing better than to try to rise. Kai looms over you, expression perfectly calm, barely a spark behind his eyes. “Go on,” he invites you. “Make another excuse.”

You shake your head, and he kicks you – not in the stomach, but hard against your hip. It’s one of his usual targets, and there’s a bruise still healing there from the last time you let him down. You whimper in pain. “Tell me how it isn’t your fault,” Kai continues as you cringe away from him. “I’ve been to the doctor. There’s nothing wrong with me. Are you really going to sit there and tell me it’s my fault you aren’t pregnant?”

“It’s nobody’s fault,” you whisper. Kai kicks you harder this time, and you slam both hands down over your mouth so you won’t cry out. “I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry.”

Apologies are worth nothing when Kai’s like this. It doesn’t matter to him whether you apologize or not. He’ll stop when he thinks he’s made his point, and not before. The words sneak out of your mouth anyway. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry –”

“I don’t want to hear that you’re sorry.” Kai seizes your arm and the collar of your pajama shirt and hauls you upright, putting you face to face. “I want to hear what you’ll do to fix it.”

“I’ll exercise more, like the doctor said. And take the vitamins. I won’t forget.” Your voice rattles. “I’ll keep track of my cycle like I’m supposed to. I can fix it. Please let me fix it. I know I can.”

He studies you. You stare hopelessly in his eyes, searching for something, anything you recognize as human. But there’s nothing. Kai’s amber eyes are flat and pitiless, like always. “Good,” he says. He drops you abruptly, and you fall back to the floor. “Get dressed. I’ll drive you to work.”

Kai likes to drive you to work. He says it’s important for the two of you to spend time together. Maybe he thinks that’s true, but you only know the effect it has – it means you don’t have a car at work, that you’re dependent on him to get home, that you don’t have even a spare second to think or regroup. You have to do it under his watchful eyes, which is how you do everything. You can’t even put your makeup on to cover the red handprint on your cheek without getting feedback. “Do the other side, too,” Kai instructs. “It’s uneven.”

You do, your hands shaking. You make the mistake of glancing down at the negative pregnancy test still sitting on the counter and spill setting powder into the sink. “Next time, use the spray,” Kai says. “Hurry. You don’t want to be late.”

No, you can’t be late. If you’re late, Kai will be late, and you’ll pay for it – later, when you’re not expecting it, when you’ve made the mistake of thinking he’s let it go. You get dressed the rest of the way, pick up the workbag you packed last night, and hurry to the door. Or try to. Kai’s hand comes down on your shoulder with a bruising grip. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

Your head swims with terror, and worse when you feel his hands wrap around your neck. But he’s not choking you – just putting a necklace on you, one he bought for you on your birthday a few weeks ago. “Make sure your idiot coworker sees that. I’m tired of hearing about how she thinks I don’t treat you well.”

Your coworker doesn’t mean any harm. She’s just joking, because you and she are friends, because she assumes your husband is the rational, normal man he appears to be instead of someone who took a joke about your work wife stealing you from him way too literally. You nod, and you force the words out of your mouth, the ones you know he’s waiting for. “It’s beautiful,” you say. “No one’s ever treated me like you do.”

You turn back to face Kai and see him nodding, satisfied. No matter how many times you say those words to him, he never hears what you really mean. He thinks about himself in comparison to Tomura, your loser of a high school boyfriend who could never get a job like Kai’s job, never make the kind of money Kai makes, buy the kind of gifts Kai can buy. You think about Kai in comparison to Tomura, too. Tomura stalked you for years. Kai might kill you one day. There’s no comparison at all.

The drive to work isn’t quiet like it usually is, because Kai always goes back to asking human for a little while after he beats you. You’re familiar with the cycle. He never apologizes, never pretends it won’t happen again, but he acts the way he used to when the two of you were dating. You both know it’s fake, but sometimes it amuses him to play the part of a good husband in private as well as public. You might as well go along while it lasts.

“I’ve been asked to represent the company at a conference in Dubai next month,” he says, and you smile at him. Your cheek hurts. “I’ll take you with me. Where else should we visit while we’re in the region – Istanbul, or Cairo?”

You’ve dreamed about visiting both of them. You’re also convinced that they’d be great places for Kai to kill you, dump your body, and blame it on the locals. But you know he won’t do that. There’s a specific image Kai is cultivating, and until that image requires him to be a widower, he needs you. “Istanbul,” you say.

“Hmm. I favor Cairo,” Kai says, and you freeze in your seat. It’s either freeze or flinch, and Kai hates flinching more. “Why not both? We might as well travel now. It’ll be more difficult after the baby is born.”

“You don’t want our baby to be a world traveler?” You keep your voice light, playful. “Think how far ahead they’d be by the time they went to school.”

“Only an idiot would expose an infant to the kind of pathogens present on an airplane,” Kai says. “Neither of us are idiots. We’ll have plenty of time to travel once our child receives a full course of vaccines.”

“Of course,” you say. “I shouldn’t have forgotten. I just got too excited about it. Us traveling as a family.”

“Yes,” Kai says. His hand leaves the steering wheel to settle on your thigh, and you force your muscles to relax. “This month was a setback, nothing more. Next month we’ll succeed.”

He’s let it go for now, at least. You allow the relief to carry you the rest of the way to work.

Kai’s been playing the good husband since you got in the car, but once he reaches your office building, he kicks the performance into overdrive. He parks the car in a no-parking zone, comes around to your side, and opens the door for you, hand extended to help you out. It looks like a grand gesture, but you know why he’s doing it – if he kicked you too hard, it’ll show when you step up onto the curb. Sure enough, you stumble, and Kai steadies you, setting you back on your feet. “Careful,” he admonishes. “The nurses at the urgent care are busy enough without adding you to their list of patients.”

“I’ll be careful,” you promise. You’re conscious of eyes on you – so many eyes, always. As the heir apparent to the biggest pharmaceutical company in the region, Kai’s a local celebrity. His comings and goings are always an event, and you know your role by heart. “Do I get a kiss goodbye?”

“It’s appalling that you think you need to ask.” Kai cups your cheek with hideous gentleness and kisses you in full view of everyone in your office who’s standing by a window, like he’s a soldier going off to war trying to give you something to remember him by. As if you needed anything else. “I’ll be back at five pm, precisely.”

He lets you go, and you head to work, turning back just once to wave at him. He’s still there. You know from experience that he won’t leave until you enter the building.

Once you’re inside, you duck into your cubicle and sit down as quickly as possible. The fewer people see what your walk looks like right now, the better. Emi, your work wife, flops down on your desk. “Saw you and your hubby making out,” she says, and pops a bubble of gum. “You guys are gross. When Shouta finally realizes I’m the one for him, it’s payback time.”

Emi’s had a crush on Aizawa Shouta from the security division for as long as you’ve known her. Most of the people in the office think she’s insane for liking him, given how scary he is, but you’re on her side. You know what scary looks like. You know that Aizawa, who’s gruff and grumpy but never cruel, isn’t it. “How’s it going with Shouta? Any progress?”

“Little bit. He lets me eat lunch with him now instead of walking away.” Emi sighs dreamily. “We’re going to have five kids. I’ve already picked out their names.”

“Five is a lot. You’re going to have to grow an extra arm.”

Emi laughs. “What about you? Have you and Kai had the talk?”

“About kids?” Your cheek stings. Your computer pings and gives you an excuse to look away. “Not yet.”

Windchimes sound over the loudspeaker, signifying the official opening of business, and Emi blows a kiss to you before ducking back into her own cubicle. As soon as she’s gone, you turn to the locked door in your desk and open it to check on your supplies. You’re almost out. You have a little over a month to figure out how to get more.

Kai thinks he has you under control, and for the most part he’s right, shamefully so. But since you went off birth control, since the two of you started trying for a baby, you’ve been keeping a stash of Plan B at work. Every time you and Kai have sex, you take one within three days.

When Kai brought up trying for a baby, you knew instantly what it meant. If you have Kai’s baby, you’ll guarantee that he won’t kill you, but you’ll wish he would, because you’ll lose every scrap of freedom you’ve managed to cling to. You’ll have to quit your job, which you’ve only kept this long because it suits him to project the image of the young power couple, both decidedly going somewhere in life. The baby will be the only excuse he’ll ever need to keep you tied to the house, to him. And if threatening you ever stops being enough to keep you in line, he’ll have someone else to threaten instead.

You’re terrified that it’ll work, and at the same time, you’re scared it won’t work at all. The bottom line is that you can’t have a baby with Kai. You’ve been sneaking morning-after pills for months now, well aware that you’re running out of time. At some point Kai will get suspicious. At some point he’ll suggest fertility drugs, artificial insemination, IVF, and then you’ll have only three ways out, none of them good. Kill Kai. Try to leave him, which means he’ll kill you. Or kill yourself, make it stick this time, and be done with all of it for good.

There’s one more thing in your locked drawer, other than the Plan B. Something that was waiting for you at work, when you got back after your suicide attempt three years ago, in a plain envelope with your name written in handwriting that triggers only a faint shadow of the anxiety it used to. Tomura didn’t send a letter. Just a picture of the two of you hanging out in Toga’s backyard, with a message scrawled on the back. You can’t run from me forever. I know you don’t want to. I’ll wait.

It’s the last message you ever got from Tomura. If he’s stalked you since, he’s left no trace. And on days like today, when you’re hiding bruises and battling a headache and sick to your stomach with terror, you almost wish he would. At least then someone would see what was happening to you. At least then you’d feel a little less alone.

You knew Kai was being too nice about the Dubai thing, but it’s not until you’re packing for the trip that you understand the full scope of the disaster. The trip lasts for seven days – three in Dubai for the conference, two in Cairo, two in Istanbul. It maps almost exactly onto the point in your cycle when you’re ovulating. And neither Plan B nor any other form of emergency contraception is going to be easy to get while you’re abroad. You spend the night before the trip in a panic, then the morning of the trip talking yourself down. When Kai notices that you’re anxious, you tell him you’re just worried about the flight.

“What about it?” he asks. “The airline has an excellent safety rating.”

“They all do until something happens.” It’s easy for you to summon up tears. “It’s just – things are going so well, and whenever that happens it means something’s going to go wrong –”

You remember sharing the same set of worries with Tomura one time, except it was about something silly – your lines in the school play, or maybe a presentation you had to do. You remember how he shrugged. Yeah, it might go wrong, he said, and you protested, indignant. I still love you, though.

“Nothing will go wrong,” Kai says, perfectly calm. “Everything will go as planned. And if it doesn’t –”

He doesn’t need to finish that sentence. You know exactly who he’ll blame.

Everything does go as planned – the ride to the airport, the always-fraught stumbling through security, and the settling into the airline’s VIP lounge with two hours to kill. Kai orders drinks. One for him and one for you, which is strange, because he’s been harping on you not to drink since you stopped taking birth control. “Is this okay?”

“Yes. I know for a fact that you aren’t pregnant right now.”

You don’t want to be pregnant, so it shouldn’t sting – but somehow it does. “I guess I should enjoy it while I can,” you say. “Thank you.”

The drink is pretty. It comes in a pretty glass, with a flower garnish, and you take out your phone and snap a picture with it, even though you haven’t had social media to post it on in years. But as the shutter clicks, a idea pops into your head. You set your phone aside, take a sip of the drink, and glance at Kai. “I’m thinking about redownloading Instagram.”

He’s just taken a sip, too. He coughs. “Excuse me?”

“I was talking to my supervisor,” you say. “About promotions. She said that when upper management is looking to hire, they check on candidates’ social media to see what their personality is like. If I want to get promoted –”

“You’ll no longer be able to work once the baby is born.”

“They don’t need to know that. And in the meantime, I should try to make as much money as possible, right?” Your mind is screaming at you to shut up, to walk it back, but you keep talking.  “I wasn’t doing anything strange on my old account. If I post a picture or two every week, it’ll at least look like I’m active.”

“I suppose,” Kai says. He takes another sip of his drink. “My account serves a similar function, after all.”

You’re featured on Kai’s account a lot. Most of his rivals for the top spot have messy personal lives, and Kai’s veneer of domestic bliss gives a leg up. “Still,” Kai continues, “I’m surprised to hear you bring it up. Aren’t you concerned?”

“About?’

“Your ex.” Kai’s eyes narrow slightly. “You took down your social media because of him. Aren’t you worried about attracting his attention?”

“He hasn’t done anything in three years. He’s lost interest by now,” you say. “And even if he hasn’t – you always told me I didn’t need to be afraid of him while I’m with you. I should finally start taking your word for it.”

Kai looks pleased. You reach for your drink, but he lifts it out of your hand and sets it back on the table. Then he takes out your paper boarding passes and fans them out, revealing the first-class stamp along with the destination. “Now take the picture,” he instructs. Oh. You pick up your phone. “If you’re curating your image, always consider what lies in the background. This looks sophisticated. Your first photo looked cheap.”

Sometimes Kai reminds you of Hannibal Lecter. You snap a few photos, then come up with an idea. “Hold your hand out,” you say. He extends it across the table to you, and you take it with your left hand. Kai raises his eyebrows. “So my ring’s in the picture. It’s sophisticated, too.”

“Yes,” Kai agrees. “It also says you’re taken.”

You nod. Your heart is hammering, and you draw your hand away from Kai’s before he can feel your pulse. You redownload Instagram, then give Kai your phone, letting him choose the photo from the several you took and edit it to his satisfaction. He adds the tags, too, but leaves the caption for you.

What do you even caption it? That depends on why you’re posting it, and even you aren’t sure. Finally you tag Kai’s account and type a caption that sounds fun, maybe. Flirty, but it’s okay, because you tagged your husband. And a little bit of something else, something you don’t want to look at head-on. Run away with me.

Kai’s personal phone pings and he consults it. “The caption is rough, but passable for now. You’ll do better next time.”

“Yes,” you promise. Your hands are shaking.

The flight goes well, but that’s not to say there’s no turbulence; a particular patch of unstable air over the Indian Ocean scares everybody except you and Kai out of their seats. Kai’s not easy to rattle, and you’re so rattled from everything else that it doesn’t make much of an impact. Once the air smooths out, the other passengers fall back to sleep quickly. Kai stays awake, and alert. “What is it?” you ask.

“The bathrooms are empty. We should take advantage.”

That makes as much sense to you as anything else. It’s not until you’re up there, opening the door to one, that you figure out what Kai actually meant. As tiny as airport bathrooms are for one, they’re smaller for two, and you have no idea how Kai expects the two of you to have sex in here after he’s yanked you into the one he just opened. “I don’t think this is going to work.”

“Use your imagination.” Kai shuts the door. The click of the lock is unbearably loud.

You don’t have a clue where he got the idea that the two of you should join the Mile-High club in the middle of an eleven-hour flight. Then again, you don’t usually know where Kai gets his ideas for spicing up your sex life. This one feels far enough out of his usual zone to be the result of something he heard or something he read. Kai likes things clean and orderly, and he doesn’t like to be rushed – and he doesn’t like needing too much active participation from you to make something work. You can’t imagine why he thinks fucking you in an airplane bathroom is a good idea. You’ve never been more uncomfortable in your life.

And that’s it, you realize. Your discomfort is what’s getting Kai off here, the fact that you clearly don’t want to do this but are putting up with it anyway, just because he said to. He likes the reminder of your obedience, and you think he probably likes to forget where it comes from. Either way, he’s into it, and you’re as bent as it’s possible to be over the sink while he makes quick work of your clothes. You catch a glimpse of your own face in the mirror, see the resigned, vacant look in your eyes, and squeeze them shut.

Your experience with men is limited. You dated a guy or two in college, but your constant paranoia about Tomura scared them off, and you and Tomura only got farther than third base a handful of times. It was never scripted, always awkward, because you didn’t have a clue what you were doing – and at the same time, it was good. Good because it wasn’t a performance, because you weren’t playing a part, because it wasn’t about anything except feeling how you felt. That was another reason it took you so long to break up with Tomura. When the two of you were together, you felt good.

There’s something twisted and wrong about thinking about the guy who stalked you while the guy who might kill you someday fucks you from behind, but you have to think about something. Kai expects a certain performance from you, given the effort he’s putting into being kinky and spontaneous, and you can’t do it off the top of your head. So you come up with some memory of Tomura, try to pretend you’re there instead of here, while Kai’s thrusts shove you hard enough against the sink to leave bruises on your stomach and hips.

“Look at yourself,” Kai hisses in your ear. His hand brushes against your neck, and even the suggestion of it spurs you to look up. “Look. Who else would do this for you?”

He’s doing it for you? You could almost laugh if you weren’t so sickened by your own reflection. You can make the right faces, mimic the moves he likes with the scant space you have, but you know what Kai really wants from you. Noise. You would almost rather he choked you to death right here than that he forces a single sound out of your mouth. There’s nothing he can make you feel that’s worth it. Not even your memories are enough.

But Kai doesn’t leave things to chance. He sinks his teeth into your shoulder, and you cry out before you can stop yourself. Your husband doesn’t try to stop himself either – he pins you against the sink, fucking you fast and hard until he comes inside you. “No one else would do this for you,” he pants in your ear, as undone as he ever gets. “Don’t forget that.”

Kai never makes the comparison to anyone but Tomura, because in his head, he’ll always win. And you know he’s right. Tomura wouldn’t have dragged you in here. If the idea had come up, it would have been as a joke. You wouldn’t be in first class, you’d be in economy, and you’d have woken up with the turbulence and gone back to sleep.

Kai pulls out. You’re dully surprised that he manages it, given how little space the two of you are working with. “Clean up,” he orders. “I’ll be waiting.”

Cleaning up takes a while. Kai’s cleaned up, too – when you get back to your seat, the entire row smells like hand sanitizer. He looks you up and down and nods in approval before he lets you into the window seat. Your phone, which you left screen-down on your seat and connected to the plane’s WiFi, is inundated with notifications, almost all of them from Instagram. People from high school, from college, from the life you had before this one, all excited to see you back, most of them asking for a life update. Asking about the ring, about the husband – about the drink, in one case. But once you clear those notifications away, there’s one last banner glowing up at you. From your period tracker, informing you that you’re ovulating as of today.

As the Dubai trip unfolds, it starts to feel like you’re leading three separate lives. One where you’re Kai’s arm candy with a brain, an integral part of his power-couple image. One where you’re putting up with his attempts to get you pregnant at least twice a day and talking about how excited you are for a baby that hasn’t been conceived. And one where you’re a normal person, posting photos of your vacation on Instagram.

You do a lot of scenery posts. A lot of food posts. If there’s a photo of you, Kai’s usually in it. You’ve been getting DMs from old friends, and the comment sections of your photos get a little lively. Your favorite ones are probably the ones where Emi tags Aizawa, who you didn’t realize had an Instagram until now, and demands to know why he never takes her anywhere this nice. Kai sees you smiling while you read one and comes over to investigate. “No wonder she makes so many ridiculous comments about me. Her partner can’t measure up.”

“They’re not actually dating,” you say. “She likes him, and he’s either gay or dumb about it. I think she’s just having fun.”

“Fun,” Kai repeats. He scoffs. “You should set a higher bar for friends.”

You heart-react to Emi’s comment once his back is turned, then go scrolling through y our notifications. There are a few usernames you haven’t seen yet, although you know they’re still active. If none of them interact with you, you’ll know it hasn’t worked.

Kai is busy during the day in Dubai, and you try to make good use of the time. You spent a lot of time trying to hunt for emergency contraception, a lot of time trying to see the things you want to see, and the rest of the time you’re on Instagram, messaging your old friends, queuing photo posts with meticulously crafted captions that call back to inside jokes from your high school days. The captions won’t make sense to Kai. He didn’t know you back then. The person whose attention you’re trying to capture did.

You’re aware of just how insane this is. Tomura vanished out of your life three years ago, and the best thing you can hope for him is that he’s moved on, found something else to do, found someone else to love in a healthier way than he loved you. So what if Tomura left you that picture? He can’t have meant it. He wouldn’t wait for you, not when you married somebody who’s as different from him as it’s possible to be. He wouldn’t wait for you. Who would?

And even if he did wait, even if this does work, what you’re doing is still incredibly far-fetched. Have you really given up on saving yourself so completely that you’re trying to get someone else to do it for you? You don’t think so. You just know that Tomura’s good at watching. Good at picking up details. You want someone to watch what happens to you, no matter what it is, and know the truth.

At night you go out to dinner or drinks with Kai and his colleagues. You know what part to play, almost well enough to put the whole thing on autopilot, and when you’re not answering questions about your career goals or telling someone how proud you are of your husband, your mind is sipping off in a thousand directions, hoping that one holds a way out.

You’ve done your research about domestic violence, and you know your position is better than the position a lot of people find themselves in when they start trying to leave. You have a degree, you have work experience, you have a credit score, and best of all, you have your own money set aside, a quarter of each paycheck going into an account with nobody’s name on it but yours. You and Kai had a fight over that account a couple months after the wedding. You call it a fight because it was the first and last time you held your ground and won, as well as the first and last time he actually knocked you unconscious. It’s the only time either of you ever went that far.

You have money. That puts you in a stronger position. And for right now, for as long as possible, you don’t have a kid. If you want to leave Kai, now’s the time.

It looks possible on paper. In practice it’s not. There are too many moving parts, too many times where things would have to go exactly right, and Kai’s the only person who has that kind of luck. Even if you got clear somehow, Kai could find you. He’d find you through the lawyers when you tried to divorce him, or he’d find you all on his own, and once he did, it would all be over. He’d kill you and get away with it, or worse, he’d find a judge, wave your extensive history of paranoia and your past suicide attempt in front of their face, and get legal guardianship over you in a heartbeat. Leaving Kai won’t work, not unless you leave him without the ability to come after you again. He’s too smart to get caught in the act of abusing you, so you can’t trust the law to protect you from him. That only leaves one option. And that option is unthinkable.

So here you are. You do exactly what Kai wants you to do for the entirety of the Dubai leg of the trip, and he buys you a pair of earrings that cost more than the downpayment on your house. You’re wearing them as you get on the plane to Cairo. He insisted.

Kai has an itinerary in Cairo, like he does everywhere, but because you haven’t messed up yet, he’s made sure everything you want to see is on it. He steers you through the city with an arm around your waist, effortlessly confident in the way that made you fall for him, before you knew what it meant. And he’s more lenient with you than usual, too. If you get tired, if you need to stop for water, if you take one look at a crowded market and panic a little bit, Kai indulges it. It takes you a while to figure out why. He’s been giving a hundred and ten percent at the task of knocking you up. Too much stress and it might not stick.

His indulgence continues through Istanbul, and because you go above and beyond to please him, you’re able to convince him to take the picture. Just one picture, of just you, inside the Blue Mosque, the place you were most excited to see. Kai gives instructions like he’s directing a photo shoot, about where you should stand and how you should angle your face to best catch the light, and instead of getting one picture, you get three. One where you’re smiling. One where you’re looking up in awe. And one where you’re glancing back over your shoulder, the neckline of your shirt pulled aside, the faint shadow of the bite mark visible beneath it.

Kai doesn’t notice, or doesn’t care. He wants to post the pictures on his instagram, but you talk him out of it, compromising by giving him photographer credit in a caption Emi promptly calls out as “simping”. You embed the photo in the middle of a three-photo post before you leave the hotel, and you don’t check the notifications until the plane back to Tokyo has reached cruising altitude. The instant you do, your heart stops in your chest.

You’ve been waiting, hoping, but nothing prepares you for what it feels like to see it at last. togachan817 has liked this.

Himiko’s had that same handle since high school, and you never blocked her, not even when you realized she was feeding information about you to Tomura. You’d thought the two of you were friends, and you’d been too hurt to do anything but deactivate your account. And you’re glad you never blocked her. Now she’s seen your post. You know she’ll tell Tomura. And now it’s out of your hands.

Which of the photos did she like? You tap the notification, and the center photo appears. The one where you aren’t smiling. The one with the bite.

[fandomofhappiness]

Erasermic (Aizawa Shouta/Hizashi Yamada) Big Rec Fic List for starters and not

Hello everyone! I’m fandomofhappiness, and today I’d love to share with Erasermic fans my silly reader’s selection of fanfics! I’m still looking for new stories. And this list will definitely update! I would especially like to give this rec to those who are just starting out. When I got into the fandom, I searched through all possible recommendation lists. I hope my own list will help new Erasermic fans and even those who have been here for a while.

I want to present you with the best of the best, which, according to my preferences in writing style, plot complexity and brilliance of the authors, amazed me during my time in the fandom. I won’t drag it out, let's go!

P.S.: This list doesn’t contain PWP stories, I’m not really here for smut but there are stories that contain 18+ chapters.

fandomofhappiness’s top five + 1 greatest Erasermic stories:

The Waters of Lethe by buffyaddict13 Married Erasermic, Case and Rescue Fic | 179,133 words

foh’s comment: A relatively new story with a mind-blowing plot. The fanfic has catastrophically few kudos, I consider it one of the most underrated. While rescuing a boy from weirdo dealers, Eraserhead is captured and placed with 10 other people who are going to be sold. Present Mic and a team of heroes plan to save the victims. But there is much more to save than it seems.

The Way I Behaved by ForTheWoolfy Villains & Heroes, Action & Adventure, Hurt/Comfort | 117270 words

foh’s comment: One of the most heartbreaking stories, so wonderful and beautifully written that I fucking choked on tears. Don't worry about the description, don't worry about Mic being the bad guy. I implore you to read this story, I would have been happy if someone had recommended it to me when I was starting out.

Nine Lives by machiroads Aizawa-centric, Hospitals and Injury Recovery, Post-Paranormal Liberation War Arc, Slow Burn | 149,559 words

foh’s comment: This fanfic was a great inspiration to me. It is a masterpiece of understanding the character, immersion in medicine, the unique intimacy between characters, friendship, respect - this is the beauty of this fanfic. The story of Aizawa's recovery after losing his leg and eye.

Present Mic's Totally Bullshit Life by Kyurilin Biography Fic, Slow Burn | 54,952 words

foh’s comment: One of the earliest stories I happen to read. I couldn't get through it the first time because it was too heavy for me. At the time I started reading, I didn't even know who Oboro is. Brilliant in its beauty and description of Present Mic’s character. This fic for those who are not afraid to break a heart and put it back together piece by piece.

And the Sky Wept by tiniest_hands_in_all_the_land Yamada-centric, Biography Fic, Slow Burn, Angst | 155,468 words

foh’s comment: A very detailed and truly heart-breaking story about two friends going through the grief of losing their best friend. Depicts moments of Yamada Hizashi’s life trying to cope with loss, while making an effort to remain his and Aizawa’s friendship. I cried a lot and was devastated. It’s not easy to read but it worth its happy ending.

Enchanted by MarziPanda95 Yamada-centric, Quirk Accident, Angst, Hurt/Comfort | 30,045 words

foh’s comment: This is one of the best Erasermic plot-stories! I warn you: there's heavy angst!Hizashi. Yamada gets hit with quirk that allows every single person victim faces to give them commands and the victim obeys them unquestioningly. All week Present Mic carries out other people's tasks and commands, until one day the worst happens.

No Quirks AU:

teach me a lesson (about you) by frootjuiceg Teachers and Schools, Campings, Getting Together | 18,565 words

foh’s comment: I love AUs where there are no quirks, like some modern AU. Yamada and Aizawa are just some normal HS teachers. Yamada tries to befriend with Aizawa flirting his way out to Shouta’s heart, but Aizawa thinks they have nothing in common until a school trip changes his mind.

By Moonlight Getting Together, From Strangers to Lovers, Secret Identity | 41189 words

foh’s comment: Hizashi works as a reporter for a gossip column. He decides to write about an avenger, not suspecting that his close colleague, with whom he begins to fall in love, is the avenger he writes about. This is SO interesting and romantic, please read it was wild.

Black Keys Make Music Too by RohanBerry

Aizawa-centric, Slow Burn, Widowhood, Hurt/Comfort | 65432 words

foh’s comment:

One of the best No Quirks!AU, felt so realistic when I first read it. An overwhelming and beautiful in its sadness, but there’s a happy ending. After death of his husband, Oboro, Aizawa doesn't live, rather he exists. And that was until the day he met his new neighbour who started to play piano at Sundays.

Hook, Line, and Sinker by KuriKuri Getting to Know Each Other, Mistaken Identity | 26,116 words

foh’s comment: A simple, slightly long, and a little confounded story about a teacher and a famous singer meeting online. Only the teacher doesn't think he's talking to a real celebrity.

Aizawa the Aristocat by Collateral_Beauty Cats AU (the Aristocats AU, your honour), Family Feels and Dynamics, Probably Unfinished Work | 53,810 words

foh’s comment: Wait! I could scare with ‘probably unfinished’, but please-please go read it. It’s so well-written and very interesting. Like it’s the living dream: Cat Aizawa adopting some kittens, rescues and action, humour and  romance… CATS. Go on, support the dear author, maybe they will write more chapters.

Toil & Trouble by KuriKuri Getting To Know Each Other, Magic | 11248 words

foh’s comment: 10/10 cuteness, magic, and romance. Shota is a witch who can turn into a cat. Hizashi is his neighbour-siren with a very sunny balcony.

The Ascension of Sunlight by YamiHeart AU Space Deities, Hurt/Comfort | 5512 words

foh’s comment: A love story between the moon and the sunlight. A very beautiful and short story.

A Demonstration in Dueling by ByTheBi and GhostAlebrije Established Erasermic | 1,833 words

foh’s comment: So, I needed this particular AU. Go ahead, read about two flirting professors bastards dueling in front of students.

Necessity by Zombiesms Erasermic x Steven Universe Fusion AU | 614 words

In-Canon Verse Fics

Post-It Notes by StarBeeCreates Mutual Pining, Identity Reveal, Action and Case Fic | 53,139 words

foh’s comment: Flirty-ass villain Present Mic and pining Hero Eraserhead playing mouse-cat game revealing very-big plot. Go read it, it really worth every praise I give it.

Dirtied Black Heart by politelydeclined Married Erasermic, Character Study, Post-USJ, PTSD | 3,795 words

foh’s comment: A brilliant description of Aizawa's PTSD after USJ. It's works like this that make Erasermic worth reading. Author explores how USJ affected Shouta's personal life from different angles, very touching and encouraging story.

If At First You Don't Succeed... by MarziPanda95 Yamada-centric, Groundhog Day, Heavy Angst | 26,625 words

foh’s comment: I admit that I don't know if there have been any other Groundhog Day or time loop works, but I can tell you that this gem is one of them. I'll warn you right away: this is a very heavy story. But it's worth every single word.

Written Words by formerlyBravo Diaries and Letters Fic, High School Sweethearts, Secret Relationship | 10,949 words

foh’s comment: I love the diary concepts! Because it's like a little detective story, even if we know who it's about, the main characters don't. And it's a really cute story about how the girls of 1A found a diary, in which someone tells their love story.

Across Our Universe by LeafontheWinf2 Mutual Pining, Action/Adventure, fckn YEARNING | 32992 words

foh’s comment: It will be mostly a happy story about friendship and space adventures! A little angst, because that's always necessary, but overall it should be fun. And the two angsty boys will be sweet and romantic and will be together by the end. A MAJOR crossover with Doctor Who. One of the best stories I've ever read! Emotional, beautiful, very cleverly constructed. The Doctor is just awesome bean.

All of Me by ill go with that then (Linelenagain) Established Erasermic, Proposal Fic | 8,111 words

foh’s comment: Aizawa Shouta’s trying to propose for almost 8k words. It’s funny but emphasizes an important part in relationship – to talk to your partners.

Catastrophes and Companions by estelraca Aizawa-centric, Cats | 15,685 words

foh’s comment: This story felt very differently when I first read it. In most stories, Aizawa already has cats, sometimes even more than one. This fanfic attracted me because Aizawa wants to get a cat so much, but he always makes a responsible decision not to. The story is about the importance of responsibility to our little friends, about dreams, unfulfilled and fulfilled.

Improbable Botany 101 by Tierfal Yamada-centric, Hanahaki Disease | 46,486 words

foh’s comment: One of the best Erasermic fanfics I've ever had the honour of reading. The author's style is so melodious, so gentle and soft. It seemed a bit drawn out, but I was happy from start to finish. My favourite part is the radio show.

Just a Push by Say_Jay Teenage Fic, Trainings | 4,940 words

foh’s comment: A beautiful and incredible story from Say_Jay about two boys training together to be the best. I really like how the boys' motives and actions are described. The text is very light but intriguing. It's a pleasure to read.

on air by lonelydoctors Marriage Proposal, Fluff | 2,846 words

foh’s comment: I'm really trying to pick more realistic and heavy works to read! I do really try! But I'm just a human, and forgive my silly heart, but I can't pass by such a frank writing! I can't. So forgive my sentimentality. Shouta proposes Hizashi during his show.

look after you by dizzyingly_dreamy Family Feels and Dynamics, Angst and Fluff | 10,512 words

foh’s comment: Classic EraserMic+Shinsou Family fanfic, but with a nice touch of deep analysis from the author. Though you may find the idea not really original, it has really good points on Aizawa’s character, you just can’t go away from this story before you finish reading.

Grounded by thechaoscryptid Aizawa-centric, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Health Issues | 2,197 words

foh’s comment: A pictorial text-study of character’s dissociation. I would call it a cruel beauty of words.

Year by Year (two-shot series) by ill go with that then (Linelenagain) Getting Together, High School Sweethearts | 12,444 words

foh’s comment: Written before Shirakumo appeared in canon! One of the cutest things I've ever read. Don't get me wrong, I don't like over-the-top fluff either - I'm all for realism! But... this is irresistible. Just read it. How One Training Session Leads to Friendship, Love, and Mutual Help.

Change Comes by fecklessphilanderer Aizawa-centric, Character Study, Angst, Post-USJ | 4252 words

foh’s comment: For these little gems that I love fanfiction. The work isn't long, but it covers an interesting topic. Shouta's face changes slightly after plastic surgery after USJ attack. He doesn't notice it until it's specifically pointed out. This work is wholesome and absolutely brilliant.

“Promise.” by Lingxz After-UA, Grief, Miscommunication | 7,793 words

foh’s comment: This isn’t really Erasermic romance story but it studies their relationship on the deep level, discovering their lives after losing Oboro. No more words, it’s very sad, but it’s hopeful.

Tattletale and The Path We Chose by LipstickVenom AU! Present Mic is Vigilante, Angst and Action | sum. ~250k words

foh’s comment: Initially I wanted to list them separately, but calling them series seemed wrong. They flow smoothly into each other, if the author had not chosen to separate them, it would have been a full-fledged big story of 250k+ words.

In my opinion, another underrated work on these two. A very plausible explanation of the relationship. Slow-burn, but not so slow to  get bored. I love this work for the nakedness of feelings, for the plausibility of emotion. Plot is driving and interesting to catch on, so – go on!

Family Ties (series) by LipstickVenom Hurt/Comfort, Biography Fic, Family | 12975 words

foh’s comment: A great two-fic series exploring Shouta's household and past. From one of my favorite authors.

Ledges. by sunkensubtext Mutual Pining, Weddings | 16592 words

foh’s comment: A great love story in the good old mutual pining style. Shouta's family is here! And they are nice people. Shouta's older sister is getting married in America, Shota takes Hizashi with him to translate. Two fools try to hide that they have feelings.

Finding Safety in the Mountains by ravyn_sinclai Different Meeting AU, Getting to Know Each Other, Hurt/Comfort | 24298 words

foh’s comment: Very beautiful and relatively fresh story! In this story, Yamada and Aizawa are not heroes, but ordinary people trying to find salvation in a small village and live a quiet peaceful life. I repeat, everything in this fanfic is beautiful: from the description of the nature and town to the plot. Just read it!

Still Here by buffyaddict13 Pre-Relationship, Character Study, Angst, Spoilers to last chapters | 6201 words

foh’s comment: It was very hard to read even though it catches on manga and anime scenes. This work studies deeply Aizawa and Yamada feelings and dealing with the death of Oboro. If you really like Rooftop Trio storyline you’ll be very involved. I respect everything that buffyaddict13 writes, so your turn to read it.

when you cried, I learned what helplessness tastes like. because all I could do was swallow by ethereal_catharsis Getting Together, Abusive Relationships, Heavy Hurt/Comfort | 7485 words

foh’s comment: Hizashi has an abusive boyfriend, his friends are very worried. And Shouta heavily caring for him worries more than anybody. If abusive relationships triggers you please be aware, this shit is sick. I wanted to read something like this because this theme is important to be known and discussed.

Reasons by Nobody has no body Aizawa-centric, First Meeting, Action | 6k+ words

foh’s comment: Written pre-Oboro. The story of how Shouta entered the first year of the hero academy, met Hizashi, and survived the fight with the villain. Very detailed and analyzing fic.

Present Mic is Civilian AU

A Few Disasters Short by Robbirdthe8th (FictionalFeather) Different Meeting AU, Getting Together, Pining | 36,781 words

foh’s comment: Hizashi is a famous musician who happens to visit a cat cafe owned by Aizawa and his small family. Hizashi comes there for inspiration and a desire to get to find out more about the mysterious owner of the cafe. A wonderful romantic story, with some vigilante!Shinsou and precious Eri.

missing out (on you) by White Different Meeting AU, Getting to Know Each Other | 23,456 words

foh’s comment: An interesting and romantic take on what would happen if Yamada wasn't a hero, but a simple radio host who encountered the underground hero Aizawa. A simple but captivating story.

Musutafu Nights: Track 1 by ByTheBi Different Meeting AU, Getting to Know Each Other | 1,844 words

foh’s comment: Short but cute. This civllian!AU has grown on me.

The Waiting Area by MarziPanda95 Hospitals, Getting Together | 23,158 words

foh’s comment: If you ever watched ‘Just like Heaven’ (a 2005 film), you may find some references. It’s romantic and a little bit silly, but somehow I grew on it. Hizashi here is so clever and so lovely.

Quirk Accident Trope:

deep roots do not wither by Ink_On_Parchment Mutual Pining, Flower Language | 12,018 words

foh’s comment: Mic gets hit with some child’s innocent quirk that makes a crown of flowers that indicates his deep feelings. If you like the language of flowers - this is the work for you. A beautiful and interesting approach to this trope.

Running to Stand Still by Kiyoko_Michi Aizawa-centric, Non-Sexual De-Aging of Character, Secret Identity | 42,604 words

foh’s comment: Aizawa gets hit with age-regression quirk that causes him to forget almost fifteen years of his past. He’s struggling to find out what is going on. When I started this rec list I marked this work as ‘very close to canon, could’ve been a part of it even’. I meant that it’s very well written, go read.

Cat-sualty by LowlyWriter Animal Transformation, Married Erasermic | 12,360 words

foh’s comment: Catzawa! You can't miss the well-written story of Shouta Aizawa's transformation into a cat.

Authors Who Made Erasermic Special For Thousands People

deafmic

foh’s comment: In my opinion, deafmic is the foundation-stone of Erasermic fanfiction. If you just start with Erasermic, please go check deafmic’s works. I cannot pick one of them, they are all good, interesting, driving, experimental – everything!

Say_Jay

foh’s comment: Jay is a legend who has written many narrative, action and experimental works. Works to read and reread forever.

YamiHeart

foh’s comment: Yami has created many great and interesting aus and in-canonverse stories that any of us, Erasermic fans, love and deeply care about. You will never get bored with the imagination of this author!

KuriKuri

foh’s comment: KuriKuri is another legendary author who you can get a ton of No Qurks!AU from. All of this author's stories are rated very highly and each one definitely deserves it.

That is all for now. Thank you for checking out my recomendation list. All of these authors are sunshines and great peope who put their souls and hearts into this fandom. After reading these stories, please give them kudos and write your comments. My List will be continued with Aizawa & Shinsou father-son, Erasermic Family recomendation list soon!

[belovedhoon]

soft spot

paring: yunho x f!reader fandom: ateez wc: 2.7k contains: angst, smut, fluff taglist: @shypen @st1llm0nster

synopsis: every time you walk into a room you captivate everyone there, yet you never give them the time of day. everyone’s attention is on you, but the one person you crave the most never seems to acknowledge your presence. you know he knows you exist, he’s your bodyguard after all but he never gives you the attention you crave from him. but it’s little things he does that give you a tiny hope that maybe just maybe he feels even a little bit of what you feel but then he goes back to being cold again/

fic under cut >>>>>>

It’s all a little cliche for the ‘rich’ girl to fall in love with her bodyguard, but in those stories, he loves her back… that's not the case for you. You would do anything for that to be true but it’s not. You are so truly in love with Yunho that it hurts. It hurts because you know he doesn’t feel anything towards you besides his obligation to protect you. You have seen the way he looks at girls and you can’t help but want him to look at you that way, but you know that will not happen, Yunho takes his job way too seriously to let feelings get in the way even if he did have feelings for you which you’re positive he doesn’t. Your heart breaks. After all, you know that he will never be yours, and that tears you apart because you like to imagine what it would be like if you and Yunho were together, and when reality hits it hurts that much more. You know that Yunho knows you have feelings for him but he never acknowledges the thought and ignores the idea. You would do anything for Yunho to love you back.

“Y/N! Are you even listening?” Your best friend Wooyoung grumbles out and that breaks you out of your depressive thoughts. You look up at him and his face softens. He knows all about your feelings for Yunho and feels for you. Your gaze falls back on Yunho who is flirting with a girl not too far away, Wooyoung’s eyes follow your line of sight and he sighs sadly. It hurts him to see you so torn up over Yunho.

“Y/N…let’s go do something fun tonight. We can go to that new bar that’s close by!” Wooyoung says trying to get your mind off of Yunho. You look back over to Wooyoung and sigh. You shake your head in disagreement.

“I don’t know Woo, I don’t really feel like going out tonight…besides I have to work on my speech for that charity event that mom put me in charge of.” You say to your best friend. Wooyoung clicks his tongue in disagreement.

“Y/N you need to get out of the house and do something fun! Plus I already know you’re done with the speech, I went over it with you remember?” Wooyoung lets out matter-of-factly. You groan, knowing he’s right, of course, he’s always right. So you reluctantly agree to go out with him to the new bar. Wooyoung cheers catching the attention of Yunho who just glares at him. Yunho makes his way over to the both of you.

“You guys good?” Yunho asks looking at you specifically. Your eyes light up when you make eye contact with Yunho. You nod your head and Yunho just stiffly nods his head in agreement before walking away, but staying close enough to you just in case, even though you’re in the safety of your own estate. You sigh again, lately, that’s all the conversation you get out of Yunho now. Wooyoung watches the whole interaction in disdain. He thinks you both are so ignorantly in love with each other but both are too dumb and scared to say anything to the other. He can see how much you love Yunho, everyone can honestly, whereas with Yunho he can see it in the way Yunho will do anything and everything for you. He can’t help but wonder what’s holding him back from confessing to you. Wooyoung wonders how he can get one of you to confess to the other. He mulls over what he should do. He comes to the conclusion that it will probably be easier to get Yunho to confess if he can make said man realize that he can easily lose Y/N if he doesn’t speak his truth soon. With that lingering thought Wooyoung comes up with a plan to save his idiot best friend’s and a grumpy bodyguard’s hearts.

It’s about 11:58 pm right now, or so you think because the last time you looked at the time was about 8 minutes ago and that's when the clock said 11:50. Wooyoung was supposed to be here at 12 and you still couldn’t find the jacket you always wear when you go out. A few minutes pass by as you’re still looking for that damned fur jacket when you hear a soft knock at your window. ‘Shit, he’s already here’ you think to yourself. You sigh dramatically, wandering over to your window and opening it to gesture Wooyoung inside before someone sees him. He walks through the giant sliding glass window and stands before you.

“So, are you ready to go?” Woo asks, his hands on his hips as he inspects your outfit with an approving smile. You sigh, running your fingers through your hair frustrated.

“I would be if I could find my stupid jacket!” You say annoyed. Wooyoung smiles and then laughs at your irritated expression. You just glare at him, finding his amusement rather annoying.

“You’ll be fine without it! It’s cold out!” Wooyoung exclaims. “Now let’s go before your guard dog hears us and bursts through that door!” Wooyoung laughs, gesturing you towards the window he came through earlier. You sighed once more and nodded defeated, walking towards the window with Wooyoung in tow. You two opened the window, looking to see if anyone was watching, and then slid out and sprinted down the long grass path to the concrete sidewalk and curb where Wooyoung’s sleek black car was parked. You two got in and he started the car up and began to drive down the road.

When you got to the object of your destination, you took in your surroundings and noticed all the fluorescent neon signs and lights everywhere and smiled. It was so intriguing to you and you were glad you had Wooyoung here with you to experience this. Wooyoung parked the car and you two got out, Wooyoung grabbed your hand so that you two didn’t get separated from each other. The both of you show the bouncer your IDs before heading inside the large building. As you made your way inside, the vibrations from the music resonated within your bodies and you could feel excitement rise within you. Wooyoung looked at you and said something about the two of you getting some drinks, so you two made your way to a private booth. When you got to the booth you noticed there was an ordering system, making the situation much more private and comfortable. Wooyoung placed an order for you two and a few minutes later some fruity-flavored drinks made their way toward you two on the conveyor that was by the ordering system.

“This place is so high-tech!” You exclaimed to Wooyoung. He smiled and nodded his head.

“I knew you’d like it!” Wooyoung said excitedly. You just smiled brightly and hugged him in appreciation. You two sipped on your drinks and chatted for a while, then choosing to eventually dance together. As you two were dancing, you were suddenly pulled away from Wooyoung abruptly. You looked up to see Yunho fuming at you. You let out a shocked ‘Yunho?!’

“Why the hell did you leave without telling me? Do you know how much trouble, we both could have been in?” Yunho barks out, pissed. You shudder at his stern tone.

“I just wanted to have some fun with Wooyoung…” You started but were cut off by Yunho.

“Fun?” He scoffs before continuing. “Of course you did, you could have told me. Anything could have happened to you.” Yunho said sternly. You sighed feeling guilty. You nodded your head in defeat.

“We’re going now. Goodnight Jung.” Yunho said to Wooyoung, before grabbing your hand and dragging you behind him. For him to be so angry, he was holding your hand so gently. As Wooyoung watched you two leave, he couldn’t help but smirk as he could clearly tell that Yunho was worried yes but he was more jealous when he saw you were with him. Maybe this whole ‘plan’ will be easier than he thought.

As you got to Yunho’s black SUV, he opened the passenger side, helping you in before walking to the drivers side and getting inside. You could tell he was still upset, but honestly so were you, you are a grown woman and you shouldn’t have to ask permission to do things. How’d he find you anyways…

“How did you know where I was anyway?” You asked with an attitude. Yunho’s eyes found yours matching the fire in yours with his own. He sighed, taking a deep breath to try to calm himself.

“I saw you and Wooyoung running down the yard. You’re not as quiet as you think. I followed you two here.” Yunho said gruffly. You processed his words and scoffed.

“Is your job really that important to you that you can’t even let me have fun?” You asked sarcastically.

“No, you’re important to me. I would never forgive myself if something happened to you.” Yunho blurted out, his eyes widening at his confession, cursing himself in his head for saying too much, so he started the car and began to drive towards your estate. You slowly processed his words, shocked at what he just said.

“W-What do you mean by that?” You stuttered out. Yunho sighed, gripping the steering wheel tightly. He stopped at the red light before he turned to you.

“It doesn’t matter at this point. Forget I said anything.” Yunho said stiffly. He turned back to the road as the light turned green and he made his way down your road. It was your turn to be pissed now.

“No. Don’t do that. Don’t treat me like you always do. You know what doesn’t matter? My feelings for you. It’s foolish of me to love a man who clearly doesn’t want anything to do with me. You know what’s funny? Wooyoung is convinced you feel the same way. But he’s so obviously wrong.” You finally say letting out your frustrations. Yunho pulls up to your house and parks in the driveway, but both of you remain seated.

“You don’t mean that. You’re drunk Y/N.” Yunho says, his voice strained. You scoff once more.

“I’ve barely had one drink, since you interrupted, but yeah lets go with that.” You say, getting our of the vehicle and slamming the door before storming towards the front door. Yunho gets out following behind you, as you open the front door and heading up the stairs to your room.

“Y/N! Wait a minute dammit,” Yunho calls after you, but you just ignore him. Right when you’re about to slam your bedroom door shut he stops you and pushes it back open.

“Yunho I don’t wan-” You start, but you’re cut off by Yunho smashing his lips on yours. You let out a noise of surprise before kissing him back with fervor, trying to convey how you feel about him, in your kiss. After a while, he breaks away from the kiss and presses his forehead against yours. The two of you stare at each other as you catch your breath.

“I’m in love with you too Y/N… I’m sorry for making you feel that you couldn’t trust me.” Yunho says sincerely. You look up at him with tears in your eyes and Yunho cups your cheek and kisses you softly once more. He gently lays you to lie on your back with him leaning over top of you.

“Is this okay love?” Yunho whispers, asking for your consent to keep going. You nod with a whispered, “Yes, Yunho please.” Yunho nods and begins to trail kisses down your neck, stopping to leave a mark a the base of your neck. He unbuttons your shirt slowly exposing your flesh to him. He leaves wet kisses down your torso until he gets to your short skirt, that’s when he slides it down your hips, dropping it on the floor beside him. He leans forward and looks up at you from between your thighs, causing you to let out a moan at the sight. Yunho’s gaze drifts down to your drenched lace panties which are nearly transparent with how wet you are. He groans at the marvelous sight, before he blows over the center of them, causing a shiver to run down your spine. Yunho grabs the soaked garment and drags it down your legs before returning his face back to your core. His eyes darkened at the scent of you. He brings his fingers to your folds and parts them before bringing his tongue to your clit and flicking it harshly. You whine as your hands reach down and grab his hair. This causes Yunho to look up at you and smirk at your already-gone expression. He brings two fingers to your entrance teasing the hole there before finally sinking them inside, moving his tongue back to your clit and flicking it repeatedly as he thrusts his fingers. You couldn’t stop the sounds coming out of you even if you tried with how good Yunho was making you feel. Just as you could feel yourself about to cum, Yunho pulled away, you let out a frustrated whine.

“I want you to cum on my cock Y/N,” Yunho said sultrily. He then pulled his shirt off over his head and ripped his pants down his legs before fully ridding you of your shirt and climbing on top of you. He teased his thick mushroom tip up and down your slit, sliding it from your entrance to your clit before finally placing himself at your entrance again and pushing inside slowly to let you adjust to his thick size.

“Yunho, you’re so big..Oh!” You whimpered out, trying to adjust to his size. He just shushed you and held onto your hands to ground you. He continued to push his long girthy cock inside you until he bottomed out. He stayed still so you could adjust.

“Shh baby, you can take it…good girl baby,” Yunho said gently coaching you through the feeling. Once you were ready you nodded to Yunho to signal he could move, and when he started to move you couldn’t help but gasp as he gradually picked up his pace. You could feel your high starting up again after being edged earlier and Yunho could tell by the way you were clenching so tightly on his throbbing cock.

“C’mon princess, cum for me. Cum on my cock, you can do it.” Yunho encouraged, bringing his hand to your clit and rubbing it, which was enough to bring you over the edge. Yunho groaned as he felt you soak his cock and clench down on him. This caused him to move faster to reach his own high. You whined in overstimulation as he harshly moved his hips to chase his own release. You could feel another high coming as he continued to move his cock in and out of you.

“I’m gonna cum again Yunho! Please!” You screamed out. Yunho nodded his head and let out a groan as you clenched on him harshly as you came, causing him to follow suit and shoot his load inside you, painting your walls white. He collapsed on top of you before rolling off of you and pulling you into his side as he pulled a blanket over the top of the both of you. It was silent for a few minutes while you caught your breath. Yunho leaned over and kissed you, when suddenly you heard a voice, causing you two to pull away at the sudden sound.

“Please don’t go again…at least wait until I can give Y/N her purse back!” Wooyoung exclaimed mortified at the thought of you and Yunho going another round. Yunho’s eyebrow rose at Wooyoung’s words, while you were sitting there horrified.

“Oh uh, just uh leave it on that desk…” You finally let out embarrassed. Wooyoung nodded, placing the purse on the desk and then walking out, muttering something about “This is not what I meant when I said I was gonna get them together…” As you heard the front door shut you and Yunho let out breaths of relief before bursting into laughter. ‘I guess Wooyoung was right. I’ll have to thank him (and apologize) when I see him again.’ You thought to yourself before you and Yunho drifted off to sleep.

[novamariestark]

Give Your Heart A Break [Part 2]

Summary: 4 months since your blind date with Hank. But your ex refuses to let you be happy.

Warnings: bad writing 🤣 the ending did not come out the way it plays in my head, fluff, some angst, hurt, abusive ex, kidnapping, threats, death, lmk if i missed any

Word count: 2113

Fandom: Chicago P.D

Pairing: Hank Voight x Reader

You should have told him. You should have told Hank about the envelopes, the pictures, the threatening phone calls. But you didn’t, and that’s why you’re chained to a pipe in some mangy old warehouse.

Erin told you to tell Hank, and you were going to, but you had other things on your mind, and you kinda... forgot.

It’s been 4 months since your blind date, and you and Hank continued your relationship whilst still keeping it professional at work. Well... as well as you could. I mean, working side by side with the man you loved was a little tricky sometimes. There were times when you thought you would combust if you didn’t touch him, hold him, kiss him. But you didn’t.

Maybe you should have listened to the threats. Maybe you should have done as you were told and broken up with Hank. You should’ve known that any shred of happiness you had would be taken from you. Why did you even bother trying to be happy. He was never going to let you. You were stupid to even try.

By now, everyone knew about you and Hank despite the fact that you two didn’t act like a couple at work. The first giveaway was the fact that he spent more time with the team and occasionally joined them at Molly’s.

Alvin was the first one to figure it out, followed shortly by Trudy. Adam was the last one to find out, and he didn’t believe it when he did. He received the deadliest death glare when he remarked that you were way out of Hank’s league.

And if they didn’t know before, they would now. Hank was even more out of control than usual. Anyone who had anything to do with your ex was in his sight, even someone who just passed him in the street.

Everyone now had pretty much found out your entire history, something you really didn’t want to happen. You didn’t want them to look at you with pity or worse, like you were weak. You especially didn’t want Hank to know, despite Erin telling you over and over that he wouldn’t look at you differently than he does. But you didn’t want to risk it. You also didn’t want to taint the relationship by even mentioning that prick.

Well, so much for that.

“Wakey wakey princess,” a sick, cold voice chuckles from beside you. A hand comes its way through your hair, gathering up a fistful and yanks your head backwards. You’re met with him. His face. His twisted, psychotic face. The only time you saw him smile was when he was hurting you, “Look at me when I’m talking to you,”

“I warned you,”

“What part of ‘We’re over’ don’t you understand?”

“You don’t get to decide that, Bitch,” he snapped, throwing your head back against the stone wall. You couldn’t see your head but you could feel something dripping from your skull.

“You think you can whore around and there wouldn’t he consequences?” He growled. Pain shoots around your body like a ball in a pinball machine as he stamps, kicks and slaps you anywhere and everywhere.

You bring your knees to your chest, doing you best to shield yourself. Shield your stomach. Another thing you hadn’t told Hank.

But he was about to find out anyway. He and Erin were on their way to your apartment to look for all the messages and things you’d received from your ex.

He found the texts, the voicemails, the photos of you two together going back to when you first started seeing each other but his face was crossed out of every single one. With something red. Lipstick. The same shade he insisted you wear for pleasing him.

As he moved to Investigate further, something caught his eye. A pregnancy test. His hand slowly reached for it, his fingers wrapping around it as he lifted it up to read it.

Positive.

“Did you know about this?” He asked turning around, the test coming into Erin’s view.

She looked at it and shook her head, “No. I didn’t know,” she sighed, “if I knew, I would have told you the second we knew she was missing,”

From then on, his temper was even more uncontrollable. Not only was the woman he loved in danger, but now his unborn child. And he’d stop at nothing to save them.

---

The room was cold, dark and dirty. Splatters of your blood adorned the floor and the wall. A chair in the middle of the room where he sat and watched you suffer. You have no idea how long you’ve been there and you’re starting lose hope slightly.

Your ex was completely crazy. More so than you thought. He somehow knew things. Things you hadn’t even had chance to tell Hank.

“Now we’re just waiting for another guest before we get onto the main event,” he told you, his tone dripping with something twisted that made you sick to your stomach.

You almost didn’t ask; you were scared to. But you had to know. It would have driven you mad, “What’s the main event?”

“Now, now sweetheart. I don’t want to spoil it for you,” he replied, stroking your hair. Like he did when you were his. His pet. You closed your eyes, your body shivering as you tried to stop yourself from crying. You didn’t want to go back. You couldn’t do it again. But with the threats and the letters, did you ever actually escape him. Or was it just some stupid fairytale you told yourself.

Right now, you thought the latter. You were stupid to believe that it was over and now you’d subjected your unborn child to it too.

It was night now, the small window at the end of the building completely filled with the black of night. The only light you had was the small light bulb dangling over your cage. Yeah cage. That was what it was. An actual visible cage similar to the one you’d been in since you moved in with him.

Like many, you didn’t see his true self until you were trapped. You moved far from your family and for years they had no idea where you were or if you were okay. The only person you had was Erin and it was just by chance that you met her and somehow she knew the situation you were in and if you ever wanted to leave, she gave you her card to call her for help.

Maybe you should have gone back home. Moved back in with your parents whilst you got back on your feet. But them you never would have met Hank... and that would have been a damn shame. The things that he made you feel you thought only existed in the books. You never thought you could feel so loved or that the simplest things he would do for you would bring you so much joy

The sound of screeching tires and slamming doors cut through your thoughts like a sharp ass blade. You blinked a couple of times, the hours you had spent in this shithole and the pain he’d put you through taking it’s toll. Were you hallucinating? Or were they really here?

Then you heard it. His voice. The sexy, gravelly tone completely unmistakable.

“CPD! Get on the ground!” he barked as soon as he barged through the door. No cover, just full on walked in and demanded he get on the floor. Your ex’s rough hands tangled in your hair, yanking you off the ground. You let out a strangled cry, your knees nearly giving out as you were forced upright and shoved in front of him like a shield. Hank growled, his gun still aiming at him, but also at you, “Don’t give me another reason to put you in the ground!”

His grip on you tightened, you could feel his breath wafting against your ear,  “You’re not taking her from me again!” he spat. Before you could even process what was happening, you felt the cold, sharp edge of a blade pressed against your stomach. Your breath hitched, your heart pounding so loudly in your ears you thought it drowned out everything else, “One wrong move and your kid is gone,”

Okay that you heard.

You felt the steel dig deeper into your skin as he pressed it harder against you.

Your chest tightened, you were scared and you felt helpless. All you could do was stand there and let him threaten you and your baby.

You could feel the life inside of you, so fragile, so vulnerable, and completely at the mercy of your asshole ex.

As his voice echoed in your ear, taunting Hank with the death of his unborn baby, something inside you shifted. Sure the fear was there, practically suffocating you, but something else was there too. A fierce, protective instinct that you hadn’t known could burn this hot.

You let him take so much from you and you sure as hell weren’t going to let him take your baby. Not now. Not ever.

You shifted just a fraction, leaning your body enough to shield your stomach from the blade. You didn’t want him to know what you were up to. You didn’t want to provoke him either. But the instinct to protect your child overpowered the fear that had paralysed you.

“I swear to God, if you touch her—if you hurt her—” Hank growled.

Your ex scoffed, tightening his grip on you once more, “You think you can protect her? You think you can take her from me again? You’ll watch her die before you even get close.”

In one sharp movement, you lunged backward, throwing your head back and cracking it against his jaw. You thought it might be enough to loosen his grip. He didn’t. But the shock of the hit made him stagger backwards and gave you enough wiggle room to get away from him, if only by a little. He still had a bruising grip on your wrist but now he was completely unguarded.

“You bitch!” he sneered lunging towards you, knife pointing directly at your stomach ready to make good of his threat. But he never got to you. The deafening sound of gunshots echoed around the room. One, two, three. And they were followed by a thud.

You thought you knew who fired the shots but if you put money on it, you would have just lost. Of course Hank was going to shoot him but someone beat him to it. Everyone turned, looking at the one who had killed him.

Erin.

She would have been your second guess. After all, she did threaten your ex the one time she met him.

Your breath caught in your throat as the reality of it settled in. Your ex was dead. He wasn’t going to come after you anymore. He couldn’t hurt you anymore. You could practically feel the relief washing over you.

Your legs were shaking but they were still moving towards him. You felt as though you were about to crash into the ground at any second, but you didn’t care, you needed him. You didn’t stop until you were in his arms. Safe and warm.

Hank’s arms wrapped around you instantly, pulling you close, pressing you against him as though he was you might disappear if he loosened his grip even for a second.

You couldn’t hold it anymore. The dam that had held your tears for the past few days finally came crashing down, every single drop following suit.

“Hey, hey,” his voice was low and gentle. His hand cupped the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair as he gently stroked your scalp. “It’s over, you’re safe now. I got you.”

“I’m sorry,” you cried into his leather clad shoulder.

Hank moved back slightly, his hand untangling from your hair to cup your cheek, “There’s nothing to be sorry for.” He told you, his lips press a soft kiss to your forehead, “I’m so glad you’re okay,”

“I was going to tell you after work,” you said, one hand going to your stomach, “Are you mad?”

His brow furrowed as he stared at you, “Mad w–why would I be mad?”

You bit your lip, looking at your feet because you were afraid that if you look at him, you’d be right, "I—I thought maybe... you wouldn’t want this. I mean we never talked about it, and I—"

You were cut off by his lips pressing against yours, “Of course I want this,”

“I want everything with you”

[A/N] I'm sorry 😭 I had Erin kill him because we all know that if Hank's girl and baby were threatened and treated this way, he wouldn't just kill them, he'd hurt them first.

[yayakoishii]

Sober (Pt. 2) | Sanji x Reader

Fandom: One Piece

Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x GN! Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Genre/Tags: Angst, Happy Ending, Sanji being dumb

Summary: You had waited for Sanji to confess to you when he was sober. Except...

A/n: I don't usually write sequels but I felt like it and then it became unexpectedly angsty?? It's still a pretty happy ending imo, so I hope you like this continuation ♡

To new readers, this is a part 2 to my oneshot that I've linked below. You could read this one without reading that, but it won't make as much sense.

Part 1

also available on ao3!

He didn't do it.

The morning after, Sanji woke up with a terrible headache and vague hazy memories from the night before. It was only when he was serving breakfast to everyone and saw you that he remembered the… conversation you two had had. But then he dismissed it, realising it was only a dream. He had drank too much, fallen asleep and dreamt of you. Yeah, that must have been it.

Thinking so, he smiled at you as usual and mooned over Nami and Robin as always, not noticing your hopeful smile turn into a disappointed one.

Every time you popped into the kitchen or tried to strike up a conversation with Sanji after that, the dream would pop up in his mind and he ended up stammering his way out. A few days in, you realised he was avoiding you and started reciprocating by not going out of your way to talk to him either.

Sanji missed you. He didn't realise what the problem was because he wasn't being that weird. Okay, so maybe he was too flustered from his dream where you had held him so close and he had kissed you (he could still feel the phantom warmth of your breath on his mouth, the wet press of your lips on his cheek) and it was difficult to talk to you about anything without feeling the urge to do that with you. Maybe he had shut down one conversation too many but now you were avoiding him back and he didn't know how to fix it.

He couldn't just tell you about that dream he had had. You would slap him and be disgusted and freak out. Even the thought of that sunk his heart. He could tolerate being just a crewmate to you for the rest of your lives, but he couldn't tolerate the thought of you hating him forever. But without talking about the dream, he couldn't explain himself either.

A week passed like that, the two of you awkward and clumsy around each other. Everyone else noticed and Nami had tried to talk to both you and Sanji about it but neither of you let her know anything. They were all confused and Luffy just wanted you both to go back to being your usual selves because it was weird even for him. Of course, no one had the gall to say it to your faces, and Nami had stopped Luffy from saying it when he tried.

Fortunately, a new island appeared and the usual straw hat cycle of finding a city in trouble and accidentally saving them played its hand. The resulting party had you downing a few bottles of wine, although Sanji knew how much you hated the taste of alcohol.

"Why would I drink that?" Your face had scrunched up the first time Sanji had questioned you about it. "It doesn't taste good to me at all. I'd rather drink the juice you make for me, Sanji."

There was no one on the ship who praised Sanji's cooking as much as you did. You didn't hesitate to compliment his food every single day and while Sanji was very secure in his cooking ability, it was still validating to hear how much you loved his food anyway.

This past week you hadn't complimented him even once. You had never gone this long without doing it so Sanji knew you had to be really upset with him. He had to try and fix this as soon as he could.

Even during the party, his head was full of thoughts of you. When he looked out for you, he found you slumped over a table, empty wine bottles lying all around you. Without thinking, Sanji made his way over and cleared away the bottles so that you wouldn't accidentally break one and hurt yourself. You stayed silent as you watched him.

"Do you want to go back to the Sunny, my dear?" Sanji looked at you finally, trying to exude his usual self. You shot him a glare and pouted, your cheeks puffing up in what was unmistakably anger.

"Go away," you hissed at him. Sanji had to blink away the thought of how much you resembled a cat in that moment. "I don' like lyin' liars who lie to me."

Sanji had expected you to be angry at him but that statement confused him. He had avoided you, yes, but he could not remember lying to you. You were not one to lie so perhaps there had been a misunderstanding between you two?

"Which lie are you talking about, (y/n)-chan?" He asked carefully. You froze and shot him another glare. Even angry, you looked cute.

"Which lie?" You sounded outraged. "How many lies have you told me, huh?!"

"Wh– that's not what I meant!" Sanji tried to calm you down but you stood up abruptly and started walking back to the Sunny. The chef was stunned for a second. You never just up and leave. He had really badly fucked this up. So of course he had to run after you. Sanji caught up to you halfway, skidding to a halt in your path so you couldn't move. "Wait! I really don't know what lie you're talking about, my love, but I'm sorry for it. I will do whatever it takes to beg for your forgiveness and then try my best to make the lie a reality."

You stopped glaring and shot him a heartbroken look instead. Sanji felt like someone had stabbed him in the heart. Why did you look like that over… him?

"That's what it was supposed to be," you said quietly. The two of you were quite a way away from the din of the party so Sanji could make out the words. He was getting more confused but he had to be patient and hear you out. He couldn't fix his mistake if he didn't know what he had done. "You said that if this was real… you wanted to hold me. You said you would tell me how much I mean to you. That you would kiss me and tell me how much you love me. So why haven't you, Sanji? Do you not feel those things anymore? Or was it all a lie?"

Sanji froze. That was… that was the dream he had had! How did you know– Oh. Oh he had been so stupid. It hadn't been a dream at all. It had been real. And he had fucked it all up by avoiding you after all of that.

"Maybe I was the one who was an idiot for thinking you could possibly like me," you were crying now, tears running down your cheeks. Sanji's heart hurt at the sight; he had wanted to be the reason for your smile and laughter, not for your tears. He had hurt you, the person most precious to him. You suddenly grabbed his collar and pushed him into the tree and he just let you, mind too jumbled up to say anything. "I'm a fool. God, I was so stupidly happy that night, I couldn't sleep. I thought all my dreams had come true. I thought we would be in love. I thought I could finally wake you up with a kiss and tell you how much I loved you too before we fell asleep. I thought I would make you your favourite dish for your birthday and, and go do one of those love compatibility readings at the fortune telling shop for fun! I thought, I thought of so many things I wanted to do with you and you… Sanji, you never came. You never told me those words you had said when you were drunk."

He wanted all of that too. Sanji wanted to do all those things you had said and even more.

Your tightened fists loosened as you breathed heavily, still crying. Even like this, you were still the most beautiful person he had ever seen. If Sanji had had any doubts before this, then they had no place in his heart any longer. All of him, mind, body and soul, was yours. He could not let you go on with this misunderstanding any longer.

"Guess they were wrong," you chuckled wetly, stepping back. "A drunk man's words aren't his truest thoughts after all. They are just his–"

"They are," Sanji said roughly, stepping back into your bubble. You didn't look up at him, just stared down at your feet, still crying silently. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for taking all this time, my love, when you deserved to be told everyday that I'm but a fool for your attention. I was in the wrong, thinking that night had been a mere dream when my imagination cannot even begin to dream up the warmth you possess. I'm sorry and I will spend the rest of my life earning your forgiveness, if only you would find it within yourself to give me one more chance."

Your eyes looked hopeless, and you just smiled weakly at him.

"Hasn't it been enough, Sanji?" Your voice wavered. "Don't play with my heart anymore. I love you too much to survive another–"

Sanji pulled you into a tight hug, his arms surrounding you completely. Although you were still mad at him, your body automatically relaxed at the familiar comforting scent of him. "I don't have the words to even begin to apologise for what I have done. But I swear to you, love, I will make up for my mistake in every action from now on. I will leave no doubt in your mind of the fact that I'm madly, stupidly, disgustingly deeply in love with you. So much that my own heart isn't enough to hold all that love."

"You're like a dream, Sanji," you said quietly into his ear, heart racing yet mind calm. "A dream that you can't quite remember when morning comes. A dream that the more you try to grasp it, the more it slips from you. But even if you're a dream like that, I want to believe in that dream. I'm stupid enough to want to get my heart hurt again because it has chosen you and refuses to choose any other. So you better show me that my heart made the right decision."

"I will," he promised, pressing you harder into him. You were clinging onto him just as hard, but your tears had finally stopped.

"I don't like lying liars who lie, Sanji," you repeated your words from before. The chef smiled to himself. "You better keep your word this time."

Sanji hummed and let you go only to cup your cheeks in the palm of his hands. You looked at him, still a mess from crying and drinking. You were starting to look sleepy but Sanji felt like you had blown all his sleep away.

"When I'm sober," you paused to give a tiny yawn that had Sanji's heart clenching from how adorable it was, "you better be next to me."

Sanji smiled and picked you up bridal style. You curled into him and fell asleep in two seconds, barely catching his soft reply.

"I'll be there."

°•❀•°

All likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! ♡

★ Taglist:

@phantasmagoricalzenith | @secretlife028 | @100520s | @toertchen | @suga-tofu | @theluckyplaces | @luvfzw | @katiemrty | @writingmysanity | @akaashi-todorki | @yuninha2004

+ @vespidphoenix | @cobainlover | @blue-chup | @yourboyhack (tagging because you seemed interested in pt. 2; sorry if it's a bother!)

[that-smallinjured-bowylamb]

Yearn.

A/n: Oops, I was feeling sad lately. I'm never giving my yuusona a break (just like how life treats me), anyway, enjoy my self-insert, or you could self-insert. I didn't specify whom. It's just circulated around Lilia and angst. [Between me and my complicated feelings for this guy, I'm stuck between making a fluff love fic or a fic filled to the brim with misery :p] this was meant to be a self-insert for my yuusona, but since I have a secret love affair with angst for a very long time, I've decided to share it to the whole TWST world/Fandom, and hope whoever gets this, comments. [Idk how to threaten people, so I just threaten them with sad fics ig 😔)

P.s I feel kinda bad for doing this to my yuusona, but reality is a bitch sooo 😋 (<-this fic was the first thing I thought about when I woke up early in the morning at 6am)

@gracegarnet @hanafubukki I'm justtt going to tag both of you since you're both my favorite writer/artist 💕🪽 the fic doesn't hurt as much as I expect it to be (bc I have no ounce of regret doing this to my self-insert), but I hope both of you like it !!

Honorary for @water-blue since you've been a comforting companion, sending in love to you rn 🫶🫶🫶 !!!

First POV

No specified gender

Warning ⚠️: Angst, maybe a self-insert but no mentions of it (so it's optional), just angst no fluff, angst/no comfort, implications of Chuichide. [<-I don't wanna spell it properly, I'd like to censor it thank you 😊🎀]

We both went to the same school.

And yet, we are from different worlds.

I wished you'd look at me the way I look at you, oh, how much I pray and wish you'd look my way, even with a small hint of affection for me.

Your ruby eyes gleaming with mischief, it brings me in. Enthralled.

I can't help myself, but I cry every night, wishing I was lovable. But, I wished I've never said anything about it.

I was a fool.

A fool to think that you'd reciprocate something so trivial as my feelings. It was painful to hear someone else had your heart.

I've never thought I'd had to yearn for someone, let alone intensely.

I just thought if I got this out of my chest, everything would be fine. That, it wouldn't hurt too.

But saying 'no' would hurt me just as much.

I thought that day when you smiled. I laughed. You've brightened my world with so much color. Colors that I haven't seen myself in for years. Colors that had long dulled in my world, you've managed to bring it back, a flower blooming in a gloomy night. Amidst my stress, I've thought about you bringing peace to my head. I wished things could've been different. When you laugh, I laugh along. When you smile, I smile even when I deny it comes from your contagious ones. When you talk, I listen with my hands cradling my face underneath my cheeks painted in rosy hues. My eyes only saw you through rose-colored glasses. My love is blind, so blind I didn't see what could've happened that day of my confession.

I should've never said anything that day, if only it meant to keep our friendships peace unbothered.

That day, when I realized I truly fell for a man, I wasn't surprised.

I was scared.

Scared because I've never dealt with these feelings before, I've never felt so strongly. And yet, it still manages. Everything I experienced could be brand new, and this one was no exception.

This love I feel is real. So real it could hurt me, spiritually damaging.

I've admired him from afar, watching as the other admirers or fevorant Bachelors/Bachelorettes surround him, he was popular with everyone he'd cross paths with, ensnare certain souls that longs for him. He was perfect. Even if he wasn't completely perfect, he still managed to capture hearts with ease or without his knowledge.

Maybe he knew, maybe he didn't.

But, the way others had looked at him, with the same affection I held for him, it was quite obvious I was envious.

No, not to the admirers that got close to him, but him specifically.

He laughs, and he charms others without trying. He does his things, and he's admired for it, even going as far as to praise and compliment his accomplishments. Sometimes, I want to be him as well. But, at the same time, to be the one that praises his might.

He's beautiful, and it's already stated for that. Many admirers had said so many, many, many times. But it wasn't only the appearance they've been attracted to. It's what's inside him, his enigma spirit.

For those who long for him, they surely are beautiful, their designs, their souls, their everything is indescribably charming to others as well. I see that. So maybe his other admirers will have a chance with him instead.

And I will watch on the sidelines. Watching not waiting. Because waiting is for desperate people.

And I'm desperate. Pathetically so.

No matter how beautiful I look to others, whether it'd be my wings, my claws, my tail, my horns, my halo, my uniqueness in appearance, or just as a regular person with my own charms, nothing.

It won't help me get close to him, not without my honesty.

I've never been one to be honest to myself or anyone in general. I've lied, lied too many times to count. All I know is that I've blurred my lies with my truths. I've written stories for myself and he. While others make stories of themselves and him. Maybe some other writers that write about him, then gifting it to one of his known admirers as a gift they'd appreciate.

Of course, they've appreciated what was given to them. After all, those gifts contain the admirer and Lilia.

It was beautiful, but I was filled with envy. I'm sorry if this had to happen to me, but it's true.

I've admired his admirers, and they all seem so beautiful in their own ways, I wished I was as colorful as they are on the inside.

If only that were ever to happen to my dull soul. Maybe he would've like me better. If I had a spirit of flame.

But I wasn't one to be determined. I never was. I couldn't help myself, I was selfishly stupid. I waited for his response. There was nothing. I wished I wasn't so dumb to believe.

I didn't expect him to one day speak to me. Not after our first encounter with each other. But I regretted the day I had a hope for my chance, to be near him in the coming years.

I was foolish. I was selfish. I was stupid. Fell into a rabbit hole of delusions. I believed.

I wished I never did.

The day we both had our first encounter, I fell. Not for his appearance.

At first, I was just intrigued, but the more I saw him and his character, the more I fell and fell. Curiouser and curiouser...

I fell in a deep spell of love.

It was dangerous and tempting to play with, to hold. But, in a moment of stupidity, I didn't have a second thought. All I knew was that I fell for him, nothing more. I fell for him, I've made poems about him, I've made a journal about him, I've been admiring him whenever I had the chance.

But he was always surrounded by many, many admirers who loved him more. More than I ever could.

My heart aches thinking about him with another. But, it wasn't my choice to begin with. I could only hope he'd choose me. Oh, how foolishly selfish I was. To think that a man of loyalty could love me if they were to ever exist.

They don't. And I just so happen to find a man who could've been a loving, loyal husband, with three kids, and a happy life in him. His future. Or his current.

But, I knew I didn't deserve such kindness from him, and maybe not a future with him. In the first place, I've never even had a chance.

So that time when he took my hand to show me the world of night? It overwhelmed my senses of logic. He held my hand with care and hugged me when I got scared. It was meant to be a platonic comfort. But I had the wrong message. It wasn't out of love for me. It was because he cared about me. Not love me in a way I wanted.

I planted a cherry blossom tree, I've taken care of it while checking up my friends if they were okay. I've done everything I could as to not make it suspicious for them, but Rook.

That man knew. The blondie Bob knew. Of course he'd know, what was there to hide if he did?

I told him to keep it a secret, to not spoil it. He agreed, not without reciting on how much of a romance at heart I could be, since no one had ever seen me with a dopey grin, a soft smile, and cheery laugh with warm words. He'd go on and on about how I've been dull-looking, at this time, it might be the perfect chance to see me shine In a way where I am happy, for once in my life.

And I believed him. That, and I also had missed something in his eyes when I turned to leave and treat my growing tree of my confession.

The tree grew under my care and thoughts filled with sappy love notes I've never written to anyone, but for him. I'd do it.

It was then the cherry tree blossomed into a beautiful pink tree, so big it was almost an equivalent to a castle's height. Not that big, of course, I was joking!

"Hey, Lilia..." "Hmm? What do you need?" He'd say with a grin.

"I want you to meet me in the evening, after school if that's alright with you..."

He agreed, and I ran. As far away as possible, I'm trying to catch my breath. I was scared.

The feeling of dread is always a familiar friend of mine. It's not too far to stay away for too long. It had always been there.

But I thought nothing of it. I wished I did.

That evening, standing beneath the beautiful Blossom tree, I stood nervously as you waited, I remembered your words.

My after confessions. My delusions. I hated it all. I hated, and then I remembered.

I remembered why I hated love in the first place.

The rejection, the projection, the lies.

I wished I had never felt love in the first place.

"I'm sorry."

No, you're not sorry.

"But it appears that someone else had caught my eye. I apologize for the inconvenience."

...

I'm done. There's nothing more to say about it. I couldn't feel anything at that time. All I remembered in that memory was a haze. I just accepted the refusal without a thought in my head, blank.

That night, when Rook came to ask how my confession went, I was silent.

My eyes dulled again. I regret feeling.

I do not know his reason for his actions, yet he tried to console me. It wasn't comforting in the slightest.

To me, it felt like pity. Maybe to him, it was understanding.

But none of it had helped me from what I was about to do.

All because my hatred came knocking at my door once more to take me to their final destination.

"If you're reading this, I'm sorry. To my friends, to my found family, and to my family I never got to return back to.

I've long given up on these hopeful feelings. The things I've wanted to feel for a long time, everything shattered. In my previous world, into this one. No world has a place for me to feel. At least, none of them can bring me to feel anymore. Since I'm no longer here.

For those who had feelings for me, whether in platonic or otherwise, I'm sorry that I've doubted you. But I can't find it in my heart to live for it.

I've never felt loved in the first place. Maybe that's why I decided to give up all my love away and choose to betrothed myself to death.

To where I stood, under my confession, my decaying body filled with purple hyacinths, pink petals fall underneath the ground I float above, near attached to the tree of my love.

I'm sorry.

- signed, [.......] [............]"

My love where I hung, it died along my feelings.

The feelings that grew and withered into a shriveled bouquet.

Who could've thought, I'd love but not be loved?

The End. 🪦🪽

Fly, fly, fly away, and high. Dear Yuusona, you could've loved Trey or Rook instead. (Or maybe other TWST Characters.)

Is it selfish of me to ask somebody to tag me in a Lilia fic afterward?... I hope not. Maybe.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy!!! Eat your yummy angst up !!! (Yes, my Yuusona is fine. This is just her reality of an "what if" so Lilia didn't actually rejected her...

This is one of her realities, though.) Hehe🪽!!! 🎀🤭🤭🎀

Purple hyacinths- symbolizing sorrow, deep regret, and a desire for forgiveness. A message of longing.

[mimsynims]

Fool For Love

part 1

~~~

Author’s Note: I have barely been writing anything (I usually write for the Good Omens fandom) since I started playing BG3, but then a few days ago I felt compelled to start on *something* for this fandom that has completely taken over my mind. I usually post on AO3 but for some reason I wanted to post a first teaser-chapter here on Tumblr.

So here it is, my first (unbeta’d) venture into the BG3 fandom. I have no idea where this is going except that the endgame is a happy ending for Tav and Astarion.

~~~

Astarion x reader/Tav

Tags: (Mild?) angst, pining, pining while fucking

Summary: You thought knew what you were doing when you let Astarion into your bed. He doesn’t have feelings for you, and vice versa. Only… Now you do.

~~~

You watch him laugh as Shadowheart leans closer to whisper something in his ear, and the unwarranted jealousy that has your chest aching leaves a sour taste in your mouth. He may be sharing your bed now and then, but you have no right to him. For all you know, he might be spending his other nights with each and everyone in your camp. And that is his prerogative; pretty words aside, Astarion has never promised you anything other than fantastic sex.

A bitter smile tugs at the corner of your mouth. You are sure he thinks he has you wrapped around his finger. That he has convinced you that this means more to him than it actually does. The sigh leaves your lips before you can stop it, but it doesn’t really matter, because none of the others hear you, too busy listening to Gale regaling another story about his ex.

Annoyed with yourself you rise, an excuse prepared on your tongue in case anyone questions your departure from the merriment. The lie remains unspoken and you’re relieved when you can slink into the shadows unnoticed. Relieved, but also perhaps a bit sad. It’s funny, you’ve spent most of your life aiming for anonymity, to stay under the radar. The unexpected friendships you’ve made since the kidnapping has unravelled all of that. Have made you aware of the dark and empty space in your heart you’ve successfully ignored until now.

Except it isn’t empty anymore.

It happened gradually, and without your permission. A dashing pale rogue stealing your affection when you weren’t looking. Because yes, while you know that his only reason for talking his way into your bed was manipulation, he has unintentionally shown you glints of his real self during your time together. He’s a complicated mess, just like yourself, and you love him. Love everything about him, even though it hurts.

So maybe he has you wrapped around his finger after all, because if you had any sense, you would end this thing between you. You should, but you are a selfish being. One day Astarion will realise that he doesn’t need to use sex to feel safe with you, but until that day comes, you will greedily accept every scrap of attention he gives you.

“Pathetic.”

“Talking to yourself, darling? Or have you made another furry friend when I wasn’t looking?” Astarion gracefully — why is that even when he’s pleasantly drunk, the elf manages to appear graceful? — sits down next to you in the grass. “You already have three of them in the camp, surely that’s enough?”

“Three?” You try to gather your thoughts, but it’s difficult when he is this close to you. “Scratch, the owlbear cub, and…?”

“Halsin, of course.”

“Of course,” you repeat dumbly. True, the druid was in his bear form when you first met, but something in Astarion’s demeanour makes you suspect that that isn’t what he meant. Images of Astarion undressing Halsin floods your mind. Halsin is a handsome and powerful man, so it would make sense for Astarion to seduce him too. Just like he had with you.

“Why are we sitting here, by the way?” Astarion shifts to lean on one hand, his face tilted back to take in the full moon. “Wanted a more romantic setting than your tent this time, darling?”

Oh. So you are the chosen one for the night. You were certain it would be Shadowheart, considering.

“Are you alright, Tav?”

For a moment you let yourself believe that the hesitation you hear in his voice is founded on genuine concern. That he truly cares beyond the deep-seated need for self-preservation ingrained in him. But the illusion can only last so long. You know enough of his history not to hold his actions against him, but right now you’re not in a headspace to pretend that everything is fine. And yet, you try.

“Of course I am.” You hold back a flinch when you hear the acid lacing your words like a toxin. It gives too much away, so you do the only thing you can think of. Your hands are already grabbing fabric before you have finished your thought, pulling him closer before he has time to examine your statement too closely. Before he can figure out your lie.

The night air is cool against your skin, a stark contrast to the hot mouth claiming yours. You might regret it tomorrow, but right now, this is exactly what you need. In Astarion’s arms, you can forget everything but him and what he gives you. Around other people he can seem petty and cruel, but when he’s with you like this… this is different.

Or least that’s what you tell yourself. You cling to the illusion that this is special, and you succeed — until you feel yourself leaning your head to the side, offering your neck.

Astarion doesn’t ask it of you, he never does. It’s always you that wordlessly gives him what you believe is what he truly wants.

And this time it reminds you that deep down, this is just a transactional act for Astarion. Nothing else. He doesn’t care about you, not really.

After you’re both sated, you drift off to sleep without meaning to. It has been a taxing day, both physically and mentally, and the last thing you see is Astarion looking down at you with an indiscernible expression in his red eyes. Almost as if you’re a puzzle he can’t figure out. Except that doesn’t make any sense, because to you it feels like he saw right through you the first time you met.

Some time later, you’re vaguely aware of strong arms lifting you from the damp grass. You must’ve made some noise, because you feel a warm breath against your ear.

“Hush, my darling, you don’t want the others to wake up.”

Exhaustion drags you back under, and when you next wake up, you’re in your tent. Alone.

~~~

[fluentmoviequoter]

Save Your Life

Requested Here!

(Barely There) Pairing: Dominique Luca x fem!reader

Summary: The most terrifying part of Luca's life is also the best: being a single father. His daughter is in danger, and he relies on his team to save her.

Warnings: threats to children, angst to fluff, technically a reader insert but only mentioned in two scenes and has little to do with the story

Word Count: 1.5k+ words

A/N: I don't think I like this. The next one will be better! Hopefully this isn't completely unreadable and someone can enjoy it😭

Masterlist Directory | Luca Masterlist | Request Info\Fandom List

“Where’s Lu?” you inquire as you enter the locker room, surprised to see Luca still at the station.

“With a sitter,” Luca answers, smiling. “I couldn’t leave you on the night shift without me.”

“Deac did,” Hondo laments.

“Only because Luca agreed to stay,” Street defends. “Don’t be jealous they have people who love them.”

“One more chance, Street,” Hondo warns jokingly. “Seriously, Luca, if you want to head out, man, go ahead. It’s going to be a slow night, and Lu is probably better company than us.”

“I’d rather be with Lu than here,” you agree.

“She’s started asking her teachers to call her Lu because of you guys,” Luca says with a chuckle. When you laugh, he points at you to add, “Mostly you!”

“It’s not my fault she liked Narnia when I watched it with her!”

“But you pointed out that her last name is Luca, so she could use it too!”

You shrug, unwilling to admit that you aided in creating the nickname but unable to blame anyone else. Luca’s phone begins ringing, and you watch him furrow his brows at the caller ID before he answers.

“Renee, hey,” he greets. “Is everything okay?”

Street and Hondo stop when Luca inhales, and you stand from the bench as he listens intently to whoever is on the other end of the line.

“Lu, Lu, calm down,” Luca says, his voice even despite the apparent fear in his expression. “Where are they now?”

Hondo taps Luca’s shoulder, and Dom shakes his head. The current situation is bad, but you're sure it will only get worse.

“Wait, say that again?” Luca requests as he drops his hand away from his ear and changes the call to be on speaker.

“He said something about patrols and pushed her out of the door!” Luca’s daughter, lovingly nicknamed Lu, whispers.

You nod and gently squeeze Luca’s bicep before you rush out of the locker room and toward the situation room. He ran a background check on his babysitter, so you already have her name. You can now begin looking into any associates she might have and what ‘patrols’ have to do with someone forcing her out of Luca’s house. It doesn't take much digging to decide Lu must have misheard 'paroles.'

As you look through her DMV information, Hondo and Street move closer to Luca as his daughter expresses her fear that the man will return.

“Dad,” Lu begins.

Glass shatters in the background, and Luca’s heart feels like it skips a beat. Being a father is simultaneously the best part of his life and the most fear-inducing. Every day since she was born, he’s been worried about what would happen to her. In his bad moments, he is terrified that someone will hurt her because of his job or that he’ll be killed and she’ll lose him. Now, his worst nightmare seems to be coming to reality.

“Lu?” Luca asks softly.

“There she-“ someone else murmurs before the call ends and Luca’s phone beeps.

He resists the urge to throw the device, shifting his focus to his daughter and the danger. He planned to spend a slow shift at HQ, try again to work up the courage to invite you over for dinner, and then be home to make Lu breakfast. His night has changed, but he doesn’t have to do it alone.

“We’re going to find her, Luca,” Hondo promises. “Let’s roll.”

“No,” Luca replies. “We need more information. She may not even be at the house now and we can’t risk wasting any time.”

Street nods and leads Luca and Hondo to the situation room, where you’re leaning over a keyboard as Hicks and Rocker converse quietly behind you.

“We’ve got you covered,” Rocker tells Luca, looking up when he sees them enter. “Go save your little girl.”

Luca dips his chin in thanks, then walks to your side to ask, “Find anything?”

“Renee’s baby daddy,” you answer, clicking on another picture. “Recognize him, Luca? You arrested him for drug trafficking in ‘18. He’s been out for a while, but…”

“His brother didn’t get paroled,” Luca finishes. “Darryl Jones... Why take Renee out of the house?”

“Let’s ask where before we wonder why,” Hondo redirects. “Where would Jones go?”

“His mother has a house in Anaheim that she rents out,” Street says, reading the file on the screen. “It’s occupied by renters, but if he’s desperate.”

“Guys,” you call. When their eyes are on you, you ask, “What about the baby?”

Luca’s heart hammers in his ears as he rides in the back of Black Betty. His mind races with thoughts of his daughter, Lu. He remembers her birth, her first steps, the moment that he held her for the first time as a single father. As long as he focuses on that, he won’t be plagued by images of the danger his daughter may be in or how strange it is to be out of the driver’s seat.

“We’re going to find them, Luca,” Street promises.

“Deacon is meeting some of the 50 squad guys at your house,” Hondo says. “Are you sure you want to roll with us?”

Luca nods once, leaving no room for further debate. He will do whatever he can to get his daughter home safely and be there when she’s found. With you back at HQ communicating between the teams and scouring cameras and internet messages for clues about where Darryl and Renee are and his team at his side, Luca knows the danger won’t hurt Lu. There’s no other choice.

Luca is walking out of Darryl Jones’ mother’s house - her empty house - when his phone rings. It’s an unknown number, but he answers it and immediately asks, “Lu?”

“Not exactly, Officer Luca.”

“Darryl Jones,” Luca replies, waving for Hondo.

“Good memory. I’ve got someone who wants to talk to you.”

“Mr. Luca?” Renee asks.

“Renee, what happened?” Luca demands.

“He was going to hurt my baby,” she whispers. “I’m sorry. But I won’t let him-“

“She’s not calling the shots,” Darryl interrupts while Renee whimpers as he rips the phone away.

“This has nothing to do with my daughter. It’s between me and you,” Luca says.

“It was. You led us here, Dominique,” Darryl replies, his voice low and tight.

“Lay one finger on my daughter-“

“Lu is fine. For now. Your house, tonight at 7. Just me and you. Understood, officer?”

Luca clenches his jaw before he agrees, “Understood.”

“Who was that? Darryl?” Hondo inquires as he reaches Luca’s side.

“No,” Luca lies. “Wrong number.”

Hondo nods and makes another promise he can’t keep about finding Lu and getting everyone home safely. Luca doesn’t listen, planning to make tonight go well without leading his daughter into a criminal’s trap.

“Where’s Deacon?” Luca asks.

Luca walks from the corner to his front yard, slowing when he sees Darryl Jones waiting on his porch. He sits on the stairs, tossing a tennis ball between his hands as he smiles.

“Where’s my daughter?” Luca asks.

“Inside with Renee. One word from me and they both get a bullet. Listen closely, Luca, this is what’s going to happen,” Darryl explains, standing as he threatens Luca’s daughter.

“So, Kyle’s here?”

Darryl’s face drops and Luca takes a step closer, his expression and tone serious as he adds, “Then it’s a good thing I didn’t come alone either. Let my daughter walk out to me unharmed and my team might give you a head start.”

“No, no, this wasn’t the deal,” Darryl argues, pulling a pistol from his waistband. “He will kill her.”

“For what?” Luca asks, forcing Darryl backward toward the front steps as he crowds him. “Because your brother didn’t get parole? It’s not my fault you both lived up to your potential.”

“That’s it!” Darryl snaps. “Kyle!”

“You’re right,” Hondo agrees, stepping out the front door with his gun aimed at Darryl. “That’s it. Drop your weapon and raise your hands where I can see them.”

“Your kid is dead, pig,” Darryl growls.

Hondo smiles at Luca over Darryl’s shoulder and gestures toward the house. When Luca looks to the side, Darryl lunges toward him. As Hondo rushes forward, Luca turns to the side and wraps his hands around Darryl’s arm to throw him to the ground. Dropping to his knee, Luca pins his daughter’s captor to the ground, driving his face into the dirt and handcuffing Darryl’s hands behind his back.

“There’s someone inside who’s like to see you,” Deacon announces as he leads Renee out of the front door with her baby against his side. “And someone at HQ who is very concerned about you both.”

Hondo takes Luca’s position before Luca runs inside.

“Dad!” Lu cries, jumping into his arms.

Luca pulls Lu tight against his chest, cradling her head beneath his chin. “I’ve got you,” he murmurs. “I love you, Lu.”

“I love you, Dad,” she replies. “It was scary. He-“

“I know,” Luca assures her. “It won’t happen again, sweetheart.”

“For you,” Street grumbles as he hands his phone to Luca. “You’re welcome.”

“Hello?” Luca greets, holding Lu with his free arm and kissing her forehead.

“Is Lu okay?” you ask. “Where are you?”

“We’re fine,” Luca answers. “We’re…” He looks at Lu and how her eyes move warily around the room before she hides her face against her father again. “Would you mind some company tonight?”

Back at HQ, you smile at the idea of having Luca and Lu with you tonight and helping them feel safe after the evening they’ve had. “I wouldn’t mind at all.”

[daltonsnightmare]

Maple's MacGyver Fic Recs

Now I know I'm very late to the party, but I'd like to think of it as fashionably *cough*5 years*cough* late :) This has been a work in progress for awhile, but the Cairo Day Q&A about favorite fanworks inspired me to finally post this- Hope you're all excited for a list of fics everybody and their dog has already read and loved LOL

If you enjoy angsty stories featuring whump and hurt/comfort as much as I do, you're probably gonna love these too. (As a reminder, always double-check the tags before reading! Take care of yourselves💕)

Palmful of Sunlight and Promise by OrionLady

Mac knows he won’t make it out of this latest abduction alive. Not with experimental chemicals being pumped into him in horrific doses. The hallucination wearing Jack’s face—who claims he never died—has other ideas about that. (Touch separated by inches is the greatest torture of all.)

Starting this list off right with what quickly became one of my favorite fics of all time- across every fandom I've ever been a part of. The perfect balance of angst and comfort, this is a beautiful story with a lot of care and heart that brings Jack Dalton back, and for Mac, just in the nick of time. I think I've reread this one more times than I could count- it really is that good. If you decide to read it though, I'd definitely recommend having some tissues handy.

[add'l warnings: non-consensual drugging, suicidal thoughts and actions]

Hello To The Night by gaelicspirit

Around S4 episodes 9 and 10. Turns out emotional trauma + concussions + experimental drugs don’t mix quite as easily as one might think. Mac’s dark side does more than toss him a creepy grin from the other side of a window when getting “lost in his head” is taken up a notch. And the only thing that is going to save him is the team coming together as a family-the whole team.

It was quite hard to pick only a single fic to recommend from this brilliant author (their whole Ambassador series comes to mind, which is definitely worth a read) but this one has everything I wished would have happened after 4x10. If you're looking for heartbreaking moments of Mac nearing the end of his rope, the team realizing how they failed Mac during s4, and a surprise fix-it to tie it all together, this one's for you.

Mac + Desert + Jack by @impossiblepluto

Turns out, escaping from the fallout shelter was just the beginning. Now they have to survive the aftermath, dehydration and the desert. Continuation from where episode 3x11 Mac + Fallout + Jack left off

Now I know we all already know how amazing ImpossiblePluto is, and I can't help but give this one in particular a spotlight. This is a fantastic follow-up to an episode I'm sure we all can agree ended way too quickly, and without much resolution. If that bothered you as much as it did me, this is genuinely a gift from the heavens; Mac has to grapple with the fact he shot his best friend, and after surviving the whole ordeal, the combination of exhaustion, sleep deprivation, and scorching desert heat makes those demons all too real. Time is running out for the both of them, but Jack is right there by Mac's side, even if his partner no longer knows it.

The Art of Showing Up (And Staying) by @lupinescribbler

“Hey! This is Jack the Dalton speaking. Probably couldn’t catch your call due to doing cool… bathroom tile salesman… stuff. Leave a message and I’ll hit you back up. Ciao!” “I don’t know where I am right now.” Mac mumbled. He was aware he was slurring, slightly. He felt like he weighed a million pounds, or maybe like he’d been welded in place into his car. Immovable. Lethargic. His skin felt damp, he didn’t know if he was sweating or bleeding. He felt too cold to be sweating. “But I need help. Can you…” Mac closed his eyes. Can you what? Find me? Not leave me? Just talk to me? The voicemail beeped, marking an end to the message. Mac redialed.

I've already recommended Reichenbach on here (and I still definitely do) but if you're not a fan of AUs, this one is well worth the read. Delicious whump, snapshots of Mac and Jack's time downrange, and insightful commentary on how their relationship has evolved over time, this one is very sweet! (and also features amazing art from both LupineScribbler and Lilituism! Ooooh you wanna check it out so bad. I know you do. And while you're at it, Lupine's got a bunch of other wonderful fics for you to read, too.)

[add'l warnings: car accidents]

Veisalgia by @lilituism

The Phoenix Foundation was invited to a charity gala and Matty sent Mac and Jack to attend. No one had invited Murdoc, but he showed up anyway.

I was originally going to recommend The Darkest Hour (and still do, if you're down for something a bit darker) but if you're not in the mood for something that heavy, then this one is a real treat. Featuring Murdoc and our boys at a gala, things take a turn for the worse when Mac is slipped a fast-acting poison. If reading about Mac being in pain gives you butterflies, you'll love this one (as well as all their other fics!)

Broken Trust by @bloodfromthethorn

Even now, hours later, he couldn’t shake the memory of Jack’s shoulder driving into his sternum, a too-tight grip on his bicep forcing him sideways as the man he trusted more than anyone else in the world physically moved through him rather than listen to what he had to say. Tag to 2x02. Mac didn't walk away from his encounter with Jack as unscathed as he might wish to appear.

Another quite difficult one to pick, as every MacGyver fic from BloodFromTheThorn is excellent (go check out Part of the Job if you're in the mood for some whump with intriguing plotlines & scenarios) but Broken Trust is definitely one I go back to read often- I feel that this one is the aftermath of 2x02 that was so sorely needed. We all know Mac gets lost in his head, but what happens when his partner is the one causing his heartache? (This is also one I have personally needed tissues for on certain nights, just fyi)

Some Truths Are Hard To Define by @altschmerzes

There are a number of conflicting theories, among various and sundry members of the Dalton family tree, on how exactly the young blonde man they have concluded has to be Jack’s kid came to be. Seeing as he can’t have just sprung forth unto the earth fully formed, there has to be an explanation, and since nobody met him until he was out of high school, the explanation has to be something good. (or, the one where jack finds out after five years of bringing mac to family reunions that his family thinks he has a son)

Incredibly heartwarming story about Mac being "mistaken" for Jack's son. Spot-on characterization, and adorable moments of Mac being the greatest cousin ever to the kiddos, nieces, and nephews of the Dalton family. Also, I think I'm just going to add a caveat to each of these that every story by these authors is worth checking out (you won't regret it, especially with Gav's fics, here!)

Gaslighting + Blame Game + Optical Illusions by @m0ns00n53

Tammy doesn’t understand why such a quiet, intelligent man keeps getting stood up on his Friday lunch dates. She’s understandably a little terse when his neglectful son finally shows up one day, after weeks of disappointment. Luckily, Jack is there to clear things up.

This was another hard one to pick (Sergeant + Specialist is a must-read in my book, but due to it's subject matter being on the heavier side, here's something a little different) I'm such a sucker for Jack being there for his boy, as well as any older person within a 50-mile radius falling for Mac's charm and wanting to adopt him as their own. A lovely little follow-up to 3x04 that's a whole hell of a lot better written than that episode was, I assure you. With fantastic characterization, attention to detail, and fun fleshing out of background characters, I hope you all like this one as much as I did!

Flour + SAK + Landline by Sapless_Tree

Whumptober No. 4 + ALT 1 Prompt: hostage + losing control Somehow, things were blurry again, looping and swirling and doubling. Mac furrowed his eyebrows and blinked hard. “Now, isn't that better, Angus?"

In the mood for some Mac torture at the hands of Murdoc? Me too. This one's a fantastic fic that kept me on the edge of my seat and holding my breath the whole time. Really delightful despite maybe because of? the subject matter, and adds a healthy does of Protective!Mac, as well as his fear of heights. I certainly enjoyed reading this, and I'm sure you will too. (P.S. check out Nightcall for some incredible sickfic whumperflies)

[add'l warnings: non-consensual drugging, torture with a swiss army knife]

Lost Cause + Voicemail by @ariwritessometimes

Jack is dead. Jack is dead, but Mac still calls his phone. Leaves an occasional message, as if it’s just any ordinary day and Jack just happened to leave his phone off. When a field op turns fatal, Mac makes a phone call to Jack’s voicemail just to hear him one last time. Little does he know, there's someone listening on the other end.

I adore this one (and not only because Jack lives and gets reunited with his kids) but also because I feel like it could be (and should have been, if you ask me) an episode in of itself. Each part of Ari's Phone Calls series is phenomenal, and if you want to read a devastating take on how Mac deals with Jack's absence, you'll love it.

Truth Serum + Failed Rescue + GSW by @rosieblogstuff

There had always been the possibility that Jack just wouldn’t get caught, or that he’d shoot his way out if he did. Otherwise they would have both gone in. Mac would have insisted on that, because he hates it, absolutely hates it, when the entire plan is for Jack to put himself between Mac and danger. That’s not how partnership should work. Mac, with his blue eyes and blond hair, can’t really pass as a local, but Jack can pull it off just fine. The right jacket, some artfully placed smudges on his face, a cap from a very non-tourist part of the local market, combined with just the right swagger, and there’s a decent chance that nobody will give him a second glance. So maybe he can get in, grab the intel, and get back out without even being spotted. But of course it couldn't just be that easy.

A twist on 1x12 Screwdriver's cold open, with Jack drugged up before being rescued by Mac. Both of the boys get whumped in this one, and struggle to make exfil. I love how Jack's uninhibited inner thoughts are written, and how much he worries about Mac. (A runner up in a similar vein would be Lake + Stick + Fever, another gem that deserves to be recognized)

A Legend In One's Own Time by @appalachianapologies

A look at 1x08 and the lasting effects that would end up shaping Mac's choices in 5x14. Mostly, Loretta being the best mom there is.

A wonderful (and heartbreaking) story detailing Mac's feelings after the events of Corkscrew, as well as Mac and Loretta Bozer's relationship. I consider everything in this fic to be canon, honestly- It's quite good. Also, if you were hoping that in 5x14 she would have talked to Mac as well after figuring out what Bozer does for a living, you'll love this as much as I did. (Side note, I HIGHLY recommend Vi's Schrödinger's Sandbox series. It's another one I love to revisit time and time again)

If you've got troubles, I've got 'em too by @nativestarwrites

The first manhunt Bozer ever helped with was when he was twelve and Mac had run away after getting into trouble for blowing up the chemistry lab. This is the story of how he was found.

A lovely little fic with a dash of fluff and angst about little Bozer being the best brother in the world to his troubled friend. Short and sweet, with nailed characterization. (Check out Nativestar's Sleepy Softness series for some more wonderful fluff)

Rogue + Family + Home by @erinsworld

She knows how bad it looks, but this is Mac... He needs help, not to be hunted and she isn't about to turn her back on him and risk losing him forever.

A wonderful missing scene that we all so desperately needed in late season 4, and I'd say this is the canon we deserved. Incredibly touching and beautifully written (much more in-character than the writers were at the time, I might add) it also features a lovely little moment that I've added to my own personal headcanons. (If you aren't looking for a fix-it for the mess of later seasons, This Ain't Cairo takes an already great episode, Chisel, and adds some very good whump)

Petrichor by @paperxcrowns

He’s sinking back in, the mud refusing to relinquish its hold on him. A shudder runs up Mac’s spine as he drags himself out of the mud. Slowly, painfully, clawing at the earth trying to find a hold to use to free himself. Small roots and grass are ripped loose in his destructive wake of panic. Finally, finally, Mac’s legs pull free from the mud and scrambles back from the unmarked grave. The unmarked grave that almost became his.

I know some of my friends/followers are big fans of the buried alive trope (as am I) and this one delivers it in a BIG way. Incredibly suspenseful and emotional, this is another fic I come back to read time and time again. If you enjoy seeing Mac suffer, you're gonna LOVE this one like I did. Enjoy your time in the cemetery, buddy :) (Additionally, each one of paperxcrown's MacGyver fics is definitely worth checking out)

This Trophy Isn't Real Love by MaritimeSailorsCatherdral

AU end of Season 2: They find Mac's dad, and it goes differently. Tentatively, hoping for the best, Mac agrees to work on repairing and building the relationship with his father that he always wanted. Jack, though he doesn't trust James for a moment, keeps his reservations to himself. But as Mac grows distant and starts acting oddly, it becomes clear that it was more than overprotectiveness or insecurity that led to Jack's concerns. Something bad is happening to Mac, and Jack has a terrible feeling that whatever it is, James MacGyver is to blame. The truth is nothing he'd seen coming.

Ever read something where it feels like a warm fuzzy blanket while simultaneously stabbing you in the gut? This one is like that for me. Tears were shed while reading this one, and the character dynamics here are very special to me. This fic does contain abuse, but also a fair amount of comfort in the aftermath. I'd truly call this one a work of art, and I hope you all appreciate it too. While the author hasn't posted any other stories to this account, this one deserves so much love and more.

[add'l warnings: physical and emotional abuse from a parent]

- - -

Now I know there are many more that are near and dear to my heart that I haven't even mentioned yet, but this post is already getting quite long, so consider this a part one haha. Happy Cairo week everyone, and thank you to all of these very talented people who have shared their works with us to read! Go give them some love <3

[newobsessionweekly]

Diamonds and dreams

Tim Bradford x Buckley!reader

Crossover The Rookie x 911

Fandoms: The Rookie, 911

Summary: Tim teams up with your brother, Buck, to plan the proposal. You get hurt in the process, unintentionally, but it's for a good cause.

A/N: Another crossover, and I don't think I'll stop here. I love so much both Tim and Buck. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this and I'm open for requests! I'm sorry if I made some mistakes while writing, english is not my first language, but I'm trying to improve. Thank you so much for your support so far. Take care of yourselves, bubs! I appreciate everything single one of you! Lots of love! ❤️

Warnings: Swearing ? Maybe. Bunch of fluff and banter anyways. Not proofread yet

Fluff | A bit of angst

Requested: No

Words: 4.9k

Requests are open for Tim and Buck.

GIF not mine, credits to the owner.

For the past three years, your life took unexpected twists, one after one. You didn't know back then how impactful a police officer doing his job would be to your life. You never expected to fall for the all-so-serious officer, whose indignation spoke volumes in the presence of firefighters.

Tim had only one opinion about the other branch of first responders — reckless, not so sharp, and definitely idiots, but they mean well. That was before meeting you.

After a massive earthquake hit LA, the chaos that followed can't be described. People running around looking for the close ones, screaming, and a lot of pain. LAPD was sent on the streets to maintain order while LAFD rushed to rescue everyone in need. They were hand in hand and, for the first time in his life, Tim was following the orders of a firefighter— you.

He complained at first, but when he understood you were more than a reckless woman, he obeyed. Back then, Tim saw in you a seriousness that made him eat his words. The way you pushed yourself aside for the safety of the civilians, the way you disobeyed the book in a risky situation, questioning everything you knew for the people. You allowed him to help, and he was there by your side the whole time, mesmerised by the way you gave everything you had, pushed away any fear and doubts and crawled into wrecked precincts to save every single one of them.

There was a huge difference between the two branches of first responders. LAPD was trained to save the law, maintain order, protect the vulnerable and punish the guilty, while LAFD was trained to protect and save regarding the guilty and they've seen unimaginable things, making them aware the life is short and you need to cherish it every second.

And when you showed him that ugly side of your job, Tim never saw you the same again. Drawn by your determination and dedication to save every soul and by your love and beauty you carried around, he fell for you, hard.

But he never accepted the real dangers of your job. Actually, he never accepted that your dedication was so profound, that you'd give your life to save another without second thoughts. He couldn't bare the thought of losing you some day due to your 'dedication'.

You’re both standing in the middle of the living room, the air thick with tension that’s been building for weeks. Tonight’s argument was inevitable, ignited by the underlying fear and frustration that’s been simmering beneath the surface.

Tim’s heart pounds in his chest as he looks at you, his concern turning into frustration. He knows that firefighting is dangerous, but seeing you take unnecessary risks feels like a constant weight on his shoulders.

“Damn it, Y/N!” he exclaims, his voice loud and filled with anger. “You can’t keep ignoring orders and putting yourself in danger! You’re a firefighter, not a one-woman hero team!”

You clench your fists, feeling defensive, his words sounding like an accusation. “I know what I’m doing, Tim. Sometimes you have to take risks to save lives.”

“Fire isn’t something predictable,” Tim interjects, his voice firm. “When you're dealing with an armed suspect, you can see the next move in his eyes. But with fire? It's nothing like that and, when it happens, it's probably too late."

His words cut deep, and tears fill your eyes as you try to make him understand. You feel misunderstood, judged, and it hurts.

“Predictable or not, I trust my instincts,” you shoot back, your voice shaking. “Sometimes you have to go with your gut, Tim, not just follow orders blindly.”

"But at what cost?” Tim retorts, his face flushed with frustration. “How many times do we have to argue about this before you realize that you’re not invincible?”

Your eyes fill with tears, the weight of his words hitting you hard. “I’m not saying I’m invincible,” you reply, tears streaming down your face. “I just believe in doing whatever it takes to save lives, even if it means bending the rules sometimes.”

“Bending the rules?” Tim’s voice cracks, hurt evident in his expression. “Y/N, this isn’t a game. Lives are at stake, including yours!”

You’re openly crying now, the tears blurring your vision as you try to make him understand. “I need you to trust me, Tim. Trust that I know what I’m doing.”

“I need to be able to trust that you’ll come home safely,” Tim says, his voice softer now, filled with genuine concern. “I can’t keep worrying every time you’re on shift, wondering if you’re going to make it home in one piece.”

"But this is who I am, Tim. I can’t change that.”

Tim’s thoughts swirl with a mix of love, fear, and frustration as he watches you, torn between wanting to protect you and knowing he can’t control your choices. “I need some time to think,” he finally says, his voice filled with resignation.

Without another word, you grab your bag and head for the door, leaving Tim standing alone in the living room, his face a mask of regret and worry. As you make your way to Lucy’s apartment, the weight of the argument pressing down on you, you can’t shake the feeling that something has changed between you and Tim, something that might be impossible to repair.

You stand before Lucy’s door, eyes red-rimmed and cheeks streaked with tears. With a shaky breath, you knock softly as your heart is pounding in your chest. The door swings open to reveal Lucy’s shocked face, her eyes widening at your disheveled appearance.

“Y/N? What the hell happened?” Lucy’s voice is filled with concern as she wraps you in a comforting embrace, feeling the tension in your body.

Tamara rushes in, eyes wide with worry. "Are you okay?”

As Lucy's comforting embrace envelops you, a mixture of relief and despair washes over you. You lean into her warmth, grateful for the solace she provides amidst the chaos of your emotions. Tamara's worried expression only adds to the weight of the situation, highlighting the gravity of the rift between you and Tim.

"I’m so sorry,” you stammer, tears threatening anew. “I didn’t know where else to go. I can't go to Buck like this and –"”

Lucy steps back, creating space for you to enter, "You're always welcome here, Y/N. You know that."

Lucy leads you to the couch and wraps her arm around your shoulders as you found a small measure of comfort in her presence. The unspoken understanding between you eases some of the ache in your heart, reminding you that you're not alone in this struggle.

Tamara places a comforting hand on your knee, her eyes filled with empathy as Lucy spoke, “Come on, tell us what happened."

You take a shaky breath, trying to steady your voice as you recount the intense argument with Tim. “We had a fight, a really bad one. He said he needed some time to think.”

Your love for Tim is boundless, a deep-rooted connection that fills your heart with warmth and joy. Every moment spent with him is a treasure, each shared smile and whispered promise a testament to the depth of your affection. And being so far from him, it was a nightmare. Leaving so abruptly, both of your anger and frustration bottled inside, this tore you apart.

Tamara’s eyes narrow, her tone incredulous. “Tim said that? What could possibly have happened?”

“He thinks I’m reckless, that I put myself and my team in danger,” you explain, the sting of his words still fresh in your mind.

The pain of your fight weighs heavily on your soul, a sharp ache that refuses to fade. His words cut deep, leaving you reeling with a sense of loss and betrayal. The thought of losing him, of facing a future without his love, is almost unbearable.

Lucy shakes her head, her eyes filled with empathy. “Tim’s always been by-the-book. He values rules and order. But being a firefighter isn’t always black and white.”

You nod, wiping away tears with the back of your hand. “Exactly. But he just won't listen.”

Lucy sighs, her eyes softening with understanding. “Tim loves you. He’s just scared. Scared of losing you.” She can see the pain in your eyes, the uncertainty about the future of your relationship.

“I know,” you sniffle, trying to hold back the tears. “But it’s not just about him being scared. It’s about understanding who I am and what I do.”

Tamara nods, her expression thoughtful. “Sometimes love isn’t enough, Y/N. Sometimes two people can love each other deeply but still be incompatible in some ways.”

“I don’t want to lose him,” you say, feeling the weight of her words. “But I also don’t want to lose myself.” You grapple with the conflicting emotions, torn between love and self-respect.

Lucy chuckles softly, trying to lighten the mood. She stands up, heading to the kitchen to prepare some tea. “You won't lose him. He’s stubborn as hell, but he loves you. You know that."

Tamara smirks, leaning back on the couch. “Well, men are from Mars, right? We’ll never fully understand them.”

Lucy laughs, raising her hands in mock surrender. “True that. But hey, if anyone can knock some sense into Tim, it’s you, Y/N.”

Tamara smirks, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she leans back on the couch. “You know, Y/N, I like you more and more. Just so you know, everything you’ve said tonight will be used against Tim tomorrow.” She winks playfully, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. “Lucy’s going to make his shift a living hell.”

Lucy chuckles, her eyes dancing with amusement. “Oh, you bet I will. He won’t know what hit him.” She laughs, the tension in the room further dissipating with their playful banter.

You can’t help but laugh along with them, grateful for the light-hearted moment amidst the emotional chaos. “Just promise me you’ll go easy on him. He’s still my guy, after all.”

Yet, even in the midst of your despair, your love for him remains steadfast. It is a beacon of hope in the darkness, a guiding light that keeps you tethered to him, even when the distance between you feels insurmountable.

Tamara raises an eyebrow, her grin widening. “No promises,” Lucy says with a playful shrug.

You shake your head, chuckling at their antics. “Alright, alright. Just remember, I’ll have to deal with him after you two are done.”

After a moment of silence, Tamara's face brightens, an idea forming. “You know what we need? A girls’ night. We could all use a little distraction, right?”

Lucy grins, nodding in agreement. “Absolutely. Some wine, some movies, and some girl talk. It’s just what the doctor ordered.”

You smile weakly, grateful for their support. “That sounds nice.”

Meanwhile, across town, Tim and Buck find themselves in the comfort of Tim's living room. With beers in hand and the soft glow of the TV providing background noise, both men seem to have left the weight of the day behind them, engrossed in their own world of laughter and banter.

But Tim's thoughts are consumed by the image of you, tears staining your cheeks as you walked out the door. Each memory of your tearful departure cuts him deeply, a sharp pang of guilt and sorrow gnawing at his heart.

Buck takes a swig of his beer, glancing over at him with a curious expression. “So, how did the fight go?”

Tim sighs, running a hand through his hair. "I think I overstepped a little. She was crying and she left. It broke me to see her like that and let her go."

Seeing you hurt because of him breaks him in ways he never imagined. He would give anything to erase the hurt he's caused, to mend the fractures in your relationship. But he knows that sometimes love requires sacrifice, even if it means bearing the weight of your pain.

Buck nods understandingly, setting his beer down on the coffee table. "It's all part of the plan, Tim. We knew it would be tough, but it's for the best." He tries to reassure Tim, understanding the struggle his friend is going through.

Tim looks at Buck, gratitude in his eyes. "I know, I know. It's just hard, you know? Seeing her hurt and knowing I'm the cause of it, even if it's for a good reason."

Buck places a comforting hand on Tim's shoulder. "At least this will buy us some time. Where's she now?"

Tim smiles slightly, the tension easing from his shoulders. "At Lucy's. She texted me when Y/N got there. She'll be crashing on Lucy's couch."

Buck chuckles, picking up his beer again. "Good, at least she's safe. Lucy will take care of her. She always does."

Tim nods, a grateful smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah, Lucy's been great. I'm glad she's there for Y/N."

The two men sit in companionable silence for a moment, the weight of their secret plan hanging in the air between them. It's a plan born out of love and a desire to create the perfect proposal for you, but it comes with its own set of challenges and emotions.

Buck's voice is filled with excitement. "You know, once all of this is over, and you've proposed, it's going to be amazing. Y/N is going to be over the moon."

Tim smiles, the vision of his future with you filling his mind. "I know, Buck. I can't wait to make her my wife."

Amidst the pain, there's a profound love that anchors him, a love so deep it eclipses the darkness of your current strife. You're more than just his partner; you're his rock, his solace, his reason for waking up each day with a smile. Your laughter brightens his darkest moments, your touch soothes his weary soul, and your presence fills his life with a sense of purpose and joy he never thought possible.

The two men raise their beers in a toast, their smiles reflecting the hope and love that fills their hearts.

Tim glances over at Lucy, his voice filled with concern. "How's Y/N holding up? I haven't heard from her since that night."

He can't shake the self-loathing that grips him, the regret for letting things escalate to this point.

Lucy raises an eyebrow, a playful smirk on her lips. "A bit pissed at you, but she's safe."

"I hate myself for that. I really don't like this whole...situation. Especially letting her go and forcing her to sleep on your couch."

He never wanted to hurt you, never intended for things to unravel like this. And the idea of you sleeping on Lucy's couch, away from him, fills him with a sense of emptiness he can't bear.

She chuckles softly, her tone teasing. "You could've called, you know. Women like that kind of thing."

Tim lets out a sigh, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah, I figured as much. I just thought... well, some space might be good."

Lucy's teasing only adds to his discomfort, her playful jabs hitting a little too close to home. He knows he should have done a lot of things, but fear and uncertainty held him back, clouding his judgment with doubt.

Lucy raises an eyebrow, “Space, huh? Sounds like a classic Bradford move. But you might want to pick up the phone. Y/N deserves to know you’re not pushing her away.”

Tim chuckles, shaking his head. "Trust me, I plan to. I just needed some time to... you know, plan everything out, to get it right."

Lucy grins, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "But you better make this worth it, you hear me?" She nudges him playfully. "And soon. She might love you and might be willing to wait for you, but don't test her patience."

Tim smiles, gratitude evident in his gaze. "I will, Lucy. And thanks, for everything."

Lucy waves him off with a chuckle. "Don't mention it. Just remember to thank me after she says yes." She winks at him, her smile warm and supportive.

You've been camping on the girls' couch for the past three days. It wasn't all that bad; some time off work was just what you needed, and your fight with Tim allowed you to sort through some old stuff.

When you were about to drift off to sleep again, Lucy burst into the living room. "Alright, couch potato, time to get up!”

You groaned, pulling a pillow over your face. “Five more minutes, Lucy.”

With a chuckle, Lucy yanked the pillow away and extended her hand. “Come on, Y/N. It’s time to get some fresh air. You can’t stay on my couch forever.”

Reluctantly, you accepted Lucy’s help to sit up. “What happened to ‘you’re always welcome here’? My free stay at Hotel Lucy is over?”

Lucy laughed. “Exactly. It’s check-out time, Missy.”

You smirked, slipping on your sneakers. "Well, send the bill to Bradford; he's the only one at fault for this."

With her keys in hand, Lucy grinned. “How about a ride along? A little patrol action might be good for you.”

Raising an eyebrow teasingly, you countered, “Trying to get rid of me, Lucy?”

She chuckled. “Just trying to help you get some fresh air. And maybe a little distraction.”

As you reluctantly rose from the comfort of Lucy's couch, a whirlwind of emotions churned within you. The past few days had been a rollercoaster of hurt, confusion, and a desperate longing to mend things with Tim. But amidst the chaos, there was a glimmer of hope – hope that today could mark the beginning of reconciliation, of healing the wounds that had torn you apart.

“Alright, alright. But only because I’m craving some fresh, questionable coffee from the station.”

“Deal. But you’re buying the donuts!” Lucy teased.

“Deal. But only if they have sprinkles.”

Suddenly, Lucy stopped and appraised you, shaking her head. “Oh no, no. You can’t possibly leave the house like that. Off to the shower with you, you’re starting to smell like my couch.”

Stepping into the shower, the warm water washing away the remnants of doubt and insecurity as you made a silent vow to yourself. Today would be the beginning of a new chapter for you both, a chance to rebuild what had been broken and to forge a stronger, more resilient bond.

You returned to find some of your clothes laid out on the couch, courtesy of Lucy and Tamara. Raising an eyebrow, you turned to Lucy. “Don’t you think that’s a little bit extra?”

It wasn't exactly what you'd wear for patrolling, but considering Tim probably handed them to Lucy, you couldn't really complain.

Just then, Tamara emerged from her bedroom with a smirk. “You should be thankful I didn’t pick the outfit.”

You chuckled, wondering why she wasn’t at school. “Fair enough. Shouldn’t you be at school by now?”

Tamara waved it off, pulling out her makeup kit. “I’ll miss the first period to do your makeup. You owe me.”

Sighing, you looked between Lucy and Tamara. “Come on, girls. It’s just a day of patrolling. Nothing special.”

Lucy shook her head, her eyes serious. “No, hun. Today you’ll be right next to Tim. Breathing in his neck. You need to show him what he’s missing.”

The engine's soft hum reverberates through the car as Tim navigates the streets, the tension inside as thick as the fog rolling in from the bay. Lucy rides shotgun, her mischievous glances back at you adding to the palpable unease. Seated in the back, you stare out the window, attempting to distract yourself with the passing scenery, anything to escape the suffocating silence.

Lucy's voice cuts through the tension like a knife, her cheeriness a stark contrast to the heavy atmosphere. "Hey, Bradford," she chirps. "How about we make a quick stop for some coffee and donuts? My treat."

Tim's eyes flicker to the rearview mirror, briefly meeting yours before he nods. "Sure, sounds good."

Pulling into a local coffee shop's parking lot, Lucy practically leaps out of the car, leaving you and Tim alone for a fleeting moment.

"You could've called," you murmur softly, finally breaking the suffocating silence. "Three days, Tim."

Tim's grip tightens on the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white. "I know, Y/N. I'm sorry. It's... it's complicated."

Before you can delve deeper, Lucy returns with a tray laden with coffee and a box of donuts. She hands you a cup before settling into her seat, her eyes glinting with an inscrutable knowingness.

As Tim lifts his coffee to his lips, you notice the slight tremble in his hand. "Everything okay, Tim?" Lucy inquires, her innocence a thin veil over her ulterior motives.

Tim clears his throat, averting his gaze. "Yeah, just a bit tired, I guess."

Lucy's smirk is unmistakable as she reaches for a donut. "Well, these should help with that."

Taking a sip of your coffee, you feel its warmth spreading through you, but it does little to dispel the tension in the air. However, there's a shift—a subtle change in the atmosphere. The silence is no longer suffocating; instead, it's pregnant with anticipation, each breath heavy with unspoken words.

Finally, Tim speaks, his voice laced with vulnerability. "Y/N, about the fight... I never meant to hurt you. I just needed some time to sort things out."

You meet his gaze, the sincerity in his eyes tugging at something deep within you. There's a weight to his words, a heaviness that speaks volumes about the distress he's been wrestling with.

As the shop continues its journey, the tension remains, but it's tempered now by a sense of curiosity and cautious hope. Unbeknownst to you, Tim's anxiety isn't solely about your relationship, and Lucy's scheming grin betrays her satisfaction with how her plan is unfolding.

Throughout the day, Tim's behavior had been perplexing, he carefully avoided any calls that hinted at danger. It felt as though he was intentionally shielding you from harm, a protective barrier wrapped around you even as you yearned for the adrenaline rush of the job.

But the tranquility of the day shattered with Nolan's urgent call for backup. The gravity of the situation hit you like a sledgehammer, sending a jolt of adrenaline coursing through your veins.

“Dispatch, this is Officer Nolan, requesting backup at my location. Officers under fire, need immediate assistance,” Nolan’s voice is clear and urgent.

Without hesitation, Tim accepts the call, urgency in his voice for the first time that day. “Roger that, Nolan. We’re en route.”

Tim accelerates towards the scene, the Griffith Observatory coming into view. The iconic building stands majestically atop the hill, its silhouette against the clear blue sky adding a surreal beauty to the unfolding situation.

As you arrived on the scene, the deafening sound of gunfire filled the air, drowning out any semblance of normalcy. Lucy and Tim sprang into action, their movements swift and purposeful as they navigated the chaos.

"Stay in the car, Y/N!" Tim's command pierced through the chaos, his tone leaving no room for debate.

But as you sat there, the abrupt silence that followed sent a chill down your spine. Lucy's panicked cry for Tim shattered the stillness, sending your heart into overdrive, “Bradford!”

Ignoring Tim's orders, you bolted from the shop, desperation fuelling your every step. The scene before you was a tableau of chaos and confusion, the beauty of the Observatory juxtaposed against the violence that unfolded within its walls.

You searched frantically for any sign of Tim or Lucy, all you found was Tim's abandoned radio, a silent witness to the turmoil that had unfolded.

The setting sun cast long shadows, casting an eerie glow over the scene, a reminder of the fragility of life in the face of danger. And the tension is electric, like the calm before a storm. Tim’s voice crackles through the radio, cutting through the silence.

“Y/N Buckley, can you hear me?"

Tim's heart races with anticipation as he waits for your response. He's nervous, hoping that you'll hear him clearly. He wonders if you'll be able to sense the nerves in his voice, hoping that you'll understand the significance of what he's about to do.

Grinning, you grab the radio. “Loud and clear, Bradford” you replied, your voice steady but your pulse quickening with each passing second.

A pause stretches out, thick with anticipation. “Close your eyes, Buckley. And this time, try not to defy a direct order.”

Rolling your eyes but intrigued, you humor him and shut your eyes, taking a deep breath of the crisp air, feeling a rush of excitement coursing through your veins. You focused on the sound of Tim's voice, letting it wash over you like a warm embrace as he began to speak.

"You and I, Y/N, we’re a wild ride,” Tim starts, his voice unexpectedly tender. “Who would’ve thought our journey would lead us here, to this crazy, beautiful moment?”

As Tim's voice crackled through the radio, a surge of nervous energy swept through him. He had rehearsed his words a thousand times in his mind, but now that the moment was upon him, he couldn't help but feel a pang of doubt.

The weight of the ring in his hand served as a reminder of the gravity of the situation, filling him with both excitement and trepidation.

A soft touch grazes your hand, sending a thrill up your spine. Your heart pounds in your chest.

“You challenge me, drive me nuts, and somehow make me a better man,” he continues through the radio, a hint of a smile in his voice. “And damn it, I love you for it.”

You can’t help but smile, a warmth spreading through you. As you listen, you feel tears prickling at the corners of your closed eyes. Tim's words resonate with you, stirring something within yourself that you can't quite put into words.

You want to open your eyes, to see the man you love more clearly, but you also want to savor this moment a little while longer.With each word, you feel your heart swell with love for Tim. His vulnerability, his honesty, it all takes your breath away, leaving you utterly captivated.

"Open your eyes, sweetheart," Tim's voice breaks through your reverie, pulling you back to the present moment.

With a flutter of excitement, you obey, slowly parting your eyelids to reveal the sight before you. There is Tim, his eyes filled with love and longing as he slowly kneels down before your eyes, a small velvet box in his hand. The sight of him, vulnerable and trembling, fills you with a sense of awe and gratitude as the setting sun casts a golden halo around him, the cityscape stretching out behind him in a breathtaking panorama.

Tears of joy well in your eyes as you take in the sight of the ring in his hand, your heart overflowing with love for the man who means the world to you.

“Y/N Buckley,” Tim’s voice wavers just a bit, “will you marry me?”

For a moment, you are stunned into silence, your mind reeling with the weight of his question. You feel a surge of emotion welling up inside, threatening to spill over at any moment. This is it, the moment you've been dreaming of, the moment you've been waiting for since you laid eyes on Tim, few years back.

Tim chuckles, a nervous but endearing laugh. “I’ll take that as a yes?”

"Yes, Tim. A thousand times, yes!" your voice choked with tears, as your words ring out into the night, a declaration of love and commitment that echoes through the air.

With a trembling hand, Tim slips the ring onto your finger, sealing their promise with a simple yet profound gesture. As your eyes meet once more, you share a moment of perfect understanding, a silent acknowledgment of the love that binds you together.

Without another word, you're in each other's arms, holding onto each other tightly as if trying to make up for all the time you've lost. In that moment, nothing else matters but the overwhelming love you share, a love that has weathered every storm and emerged stronger than ever before.

Tim's lips meet yours in a tender kiss, a sweet yet passionate embrace that speaks volumes more than words ever could. You cling to each other, lost in the intensity of your emotions, your hearts beating as one in the darkness.

As you pull away, breathless and flushed with emotion, you share a smile that lights up the night. In each other's arms, you find solace and strength, knowing that no matter what the future holds, you'll face it together, hand in hand, heart to heart.

Nolan chimes in through the radio, his voice filled with laughter. "Bradford, are we breaking out the champagne or what?"

Tim's smile widens at Nolan's words, and he glances over at you with a playful twinkle in his eye. "Hold off on the champagne, Nolan," he replies, unable to suppress a laugh. "She said yes."

Murmuring softly, Tim leaned in close to your ear. "I guess I didn’t mess this one up, huh?"

You chuckled softly, leaning into his embrace. "Not this time, Bradford."