#we never see him again- not even mentioned

[arcadia-of-pluto]

Casually calling them "daddy" LADS

Word count; 1,913

Themes; slightly barely there suggestive content, fluff, established relationship

Warnings; mention of "daddy" ofc, fluff

Notes; So these turned out more fluffy than I originally intended...honestly, thought they'd be more smutty, but I've learnt that it's really difficult for me to write smut. Or at least, smut with little to no context before it all goes down. I might eventually write some smuttier drabbles, but regardless of smut, I hope you enjoy this little thing I wrote!

You saw that there was an old trend about calling your boyfriend “daddy” and videoing their reaction so, obviously, you wanted to give it a try…

Xavier 

It's been almost a year since you and Xavier started dating– and it was a wonderful eleven months! He told you everything about himself. What his future with you was like, all of his feelings throughout the centuries, and you listened. You wholeheartedly believed him, because it would be one hell of a lie if it wasn't true…and you didn't think Xavier had the time or energy to come up with a complex lie like that. 

But even if you now know, time moves on. There's not much you can do about your future self, so you can't really change the future in that way though…Xavier's here now, in the past, and that's all that matters to you. 

Anyway, today was just a normal day as any. 

You were sitting at the counter, keeping a close eye on Xavier– who was attempting to follow, yet another, cooking tutorial. The man was desperate to cook a decent meal for you. His heart dead set on making you something edible for your upcoming year anniversary…and while that was cute, you also wanted to mess with him. 

You push your cup just out of your reach and make a big show of trying to reach for it, before sighing loudly. 

“Daddy, can you pass me my drink please?” 

You can hear the clang of a spatula hitting the floor and you watch Xavier’s body comically whip around to face you. 

“What?” His head cocks to the side as his wide eyes were set on your face. “Say that again..”

“Hmm? I said ‘Xav, can you pass me my drink, please’.” You copy his head tilt and he quickly shakes his head.

 “No, no you didn't.” He takes a few steps toward you before grabbing your hand in-between both of his. “Say it again.” 

You couldn't resist his sweet puppy dog eyes, so you hold back a smile as you meet his eyes. “I...called you daddy.” 

“Really?” He seems unusually excited. “So are we…?” His gaze lowers to your stomach and you can’t help the giggle that slips from your lips. 

Gosh, he was so cute. 

“Baby– no, no. We're not pregnant.” You run your fingers through his hair with a smile on your lips. “Are...you disappointed?” 

“Mmh..” Xavier hums thoughtfully for a moment before he shakes his head. “No. We can just make it a reality later. No need to rush.” 

Zayne 

You and Zayne have only been dating for six months, but it felt like much longer. Having known each other since you were little, you both had always been close– well, your definition of close and his were probably different. You always thought of him as a friend while he tried to keep a distance and thought you hated him. But time brought you both back together with him as your primary care physician. 

The two of you had been flirting up until his birthday and finally made it official once he blew his candles out on the cake you made for him. It was a sweet time, but that was six months ago. 

Now, though, you really want to fluster the man. 

He always embarrasses you and makes you feel nervous, but you never get to see him that way. Sure, his ears will turn red and sometimes he won't meet your eyes when you get too intense with him, but you've never seen him absolutely shocked. And you just wanted to see one look of surprise from him. 

So, what did you decide to do? 

You decided to casually call him "daddy” as a joke.

That should definitely go over well. 

Zayne is seated behind his desk at the hospital, sorting through papers as you longue on his sofa. Your eyes continuously glancing toward the windows to make sure the door was shut and the blinds were closed. 

“If you keep staring at the door, you just might burn a hole through it.” Zayne says, though he didn't even look up from his paperwork. He was attentive like that and probably already knew you wanted something or you were ready to go home. And he was right. 

“When are we going home…daddy?” You ask as you kick your feet in the air behind you. You were on your stomach, resting your cheek against your arms as you watched his expression…which didn't change at all. 

"Just give me a few more minutes, angel, and I'll be done.” Zayne pushes his glasses up with his index finger and clicks his pen, jotting down a few notes. 

“I–” You puff your cheeks out with a small sigh and decide to keep going with it. “I want to go home now, daddy.”

“Didn't I just tell you to be patient?” Now Zayne finally looks up at you with one of his brows raised. “I'll deal with you when we get home.” 

Rafayel 

It's been four months since Rafayel asked you out. Four months since you tugged Rafayel down into the bath with you, which set off a chain reaction of a steamy night, followed by him asking you out the next morning; he also complained that you both went out of order, but he wasn’t too upset when you continued where you left off…

Now, though, you moved out of your apartment and to Rafayel's home, ‘Mo Art Studio’ at Whitesand Bay. 

It was definitely odd at first, but it was a good change of pace. Always being by the ocean, able to take your morning walks together on the beach and collect seashells. You had a whole collection on your desk at work. He'd always give you the most unique and prettiest shells, saying “only the best for his cutie”. 

He was also so easy to fluster. 

You immediately knew you had him wrapped around your finger every time his ears would turn red. That same crimson slowly made its way from his ears to his cheeks, all the way to his whole face. So you assumed your little ‘prank’ would also have the same effect. 

You were sitting on a beach towel in the sand with an umbrella blocking your eyes from the bright sun. In front of you was Rafayel, painting your visage, with an easel. His hand deftly moves across the canvas as he sketches the outline for his new painting. 

Lately, you are the only thing he can paint. Always asking you to stop what you're doing so he can run and get his sketch pad. You could be doing something so normal and mundane, but he'd be struck with the inspiration to record your very image. 

As much as you loved it and thought this was very sweet, after almost two weeks of this…You wanted some form of payback. 

“Hey, daddy, can we take a break for a second? It’s really hot out here.” You squint your eyes to try and see Rafayel's face, your hand fanning at your body because you, seriously, are hot out here. 

“Huh?” 

It's like Rafayel is frozen in time, or buffering. He's just blankly staring at you with a confused expression on his face until his pencil drops into the sand. That's when he quickly stands up  and makes his way toward you. 

“Again.” 

Now, it's your turn to be confused. 

“Raf, what–” 

“Not that, say the other word again.” His ears were red as he crouched down in front of you, a look of determination in his eyes. 

“No– you're making it weird!” You put your hands on his shoulders, trying to put some distance between him as your face turns red. 

“Please, I really need to hear you say it again! I'm seriously going to die if you don't.” There's your overdramatic fishy. 

“Fine, but just this once.” You grumble, turning your head to look away from him. “Daddy…” Though you say it as low as you can and Rafayel groans, tilting his head back. 

“Louder.” He rests his forehead against yours. “Come on, cutie. If you don't…I might want to change that to my new nickname.”

Sylus

It's been about…a year? Yes, definitely a year since you and Sylus started dating. Well, you both have differing opinions on when exactly you started dating. Sylus claims it was the moment he laid eyes on you in the N109 Zone, while you claim it was only about six months ago– which is when you and Sylus made a bet. 

It was a bet where if he came back safely from his mission, he'd leave you alone. He wouldn't bother you anymore, wouldn't talk to you, contact you, anything of the sort…and you won, but you didn't realize he'd actually do it. So whenever you seeked him out to make sure he was safe, and he ignored you, you realized that maybe you did want him in your life. 

This led to you running across the street to him and jumping into his arms like this was a hallmark movie, and you claim this was when you officially started dating Sylus.

But between us, you just agree with Sylus when he says a year, because if you don't, he'll pout for the whole day. 

...And today was one of those ‘pouty Sylus’ days. 

You went on a mission that was probably way too dangerous, even though you told Sylus you were going to slow down on your Hunter's work. But you couldn't just ignore endangered civilians. If any of them would have died, that would've been too much for your sympathetic heart to handle. 

And even if Sylus understands your reasoning, he's still upset that you left without telling him– having woken up to a cold bed without you by his side sent him spiraling into a panic. 

So, when you got home, you noticed he was sulking in the kitchen as he made dinner. 

“Sy…” You take your shoes off by the door, nervously fiddling with your fingers as you tentatively walk into the kitchen. Standing behind the counter, you sigh, “I'm reeaally sorry...” 

“If you're reeaaally sorry, then help me make our dinner.” He says, not looking up at you and that doesn't make you feel any better. 

“Okay..” You finally step past the counter and you look around. “So…what do you need?” You were trying to figure out something– anything that could make Sylus feel better when a thought comes to your mind. 

Most guys probably like it when their girlfriend calls them daddy…right? 

“In the cabinet, top shelf. I need a bottle of garlic powder.” 

Okay, you got this. 

You take a deep breath and open the cabinet, straining your arm to try and reach the seasoning bottle, but your fingertips barely brush it and knock it over. “Shit…” You swallow back your nervousness before continuing, “Daddy, can you grab it for me?” 

The room fills with silence for a moment, but then you hear Sylus chuckle. 

“Sure, kitten.” 

Your back suddenly feels warm as a firm chest presses against it and Sylus reaches up from behind you to grab the bottle. 

“I ask you to do one simple thing and you can't even do that.” Sylus chides, clicking his tongue as he pops the bottle open to pour some into the pan on the stove. 

“Da–”

“If you think a few empty words will make me feel better, kitten…you've got to try a lot harder than that.” 

I'd like to say, this is definitely one of my better drabbles– one of my favorites, in fact!

I have like...six more ideas for drabbles and then I'll need to come up with some more. Like these new cards and Rafayel's student photoshoot event really had me thinking of how seriously the LADS men would take roleplaying– and that spawned a whole different drabble idea, so you can definitely look forward to that!

I'm trying to come up with new ways to do my drabbles, so that's why I did a little prelude before I started writing for the guys. Please let me know any feedback yall have for me! Especially with the coloured dialogue, I'm not too sure if I like it, but it seems really pretty and probably makes it easier to tell who is talking apart. (I won't use it for my fic though, only the drabbles!)

Anyway, I have a small personal project I'm working on this weekend so I probably won't be able to write any chapters for my 'Divisa' fic, but I'm still going to post chapter nineteen of 'Twist of Fate' and try to write at least two more chapters since I'm only on twenty-three or so.

I hope you all enjoyed these drabbles and I hope yall have a great night/day! 🩷

[kiwriteswords]

And then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like, "I love you."

AN: Since you guys seem to like the Shy!Reader drabbles!

Other Writing | Ao3

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Shy!Fem!Reader!

Word Count: 5.2k

Rating: Everyone

TW: shy!reader, alcohol mention

Five times you were shy around Aaron Hotchner because of your underlying feelings for him + one time, Aaron Hotchner was shy around you because of his underlying feelings for you.

one.

The office was unusually quiet, save for the occasional rustle of papers and the soft hum of computers. The rest of the team was out in the field, leaving just you and Aaron Hotchner behind to finish reviewing the case files for the next briefing.

You glanced at the clock. It was just after 6 p.m. Most people would be winding down their day, but for the BAU, the hours always seemed to blend together. Of course, you didn’t mind—working with the best agents in the FBI was an honor, but working directly under Aaron Hotchner, your team leader and a respected figure in the bureau? That was something else entirely.

And today, you were supposed to help him with the case files for the recent kidnapping case. Alone.

“Ready?” His deep voice pulled you from your thoughts, and you nearly jumped. You didn’t have the time to dissect why this man--your boss, made you feel this way. As if every time he looked at you, it felt like he could see things differently--more than anyone else. You felt a level of exposure you were not quite used to. It wasn’t bad, no. Just made you feel sort of funny inside. 

“Uh, yes, yes, sir. Just—just a second.” You scrambled to gather your papers, your hands suddenly clammy as you fumbled with the file in front of you. Great start, you mentally scolded yourself.

You could feel his eyes on you, calm and patient, as you tried to compose yourself. Hotch, with his sharp features and intense gaze, sat down beside you at the long conference table, his presence commanding even though he said nothing. As usual, he was dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, tie still impeccably knotted despite the long day.

He always looked so put together, so composed, and here you were, barely able to keep from dropping the entire file on the floor.

And that was the thing about Aaron Hotchner’s microscope; it was never him purposefully looking at you--through you with judgment. Just through a different lens, you could feel it. 

“Okay,” you breathed out, finally opening the folder and staring at the first page, willing yourself to focus. But of course, all you could focus on was him sitting beside you, his arm brushing ever so slightly against yours as he leaned in to review the documents.

Hotch’s voice broke the silence again. “I noticed some inconsistencies in the witness statements,” he said, pointing at a section in the report. You could feel the heat radiating off him, the proximity making your heartbeat quicken.

“Right, um, inconsistencies. Yes, I—I saw those too,” you stammered, your voice just a little higher than usual. You could feel your cheeks burning. Pull it together.

As you reached to turn the page, your fingers trembled slightly, and the edges of the papers crinkled under your grip. You cursed yourself internally. He’s going to think I don’t know what I’m doing.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Hotch glance at you. His brow furrowed, not in frustration, but in something softer—concern, maybe? Before you could stop yourself, you began speaking too fast, trying to fill the silence.

“I mean, the statements are definitely off, like you said. I was just thinking, you know, we could um, cross-check them against the surveillance footage from the convenience store and maybe, uh, match the timestamps, because—well, um, obviously, you’ve probably already thought of that, but I just thought…”

You trailed off when you realized Hotch wasn’t looking at the file anymore. He was looking at you. And oh god, that made things so much worse. You felt the tips of your ears burning now, and you quickly looked down at the paper in front of you, pretending to reread the same line over and over just to avoid his gaze.

“You’re doing fine,” Hotch said softly, his voice cutting through your spiraling thoughts.

You looked up, blinking in surprise. His expression was calm, reassuring even, as though he could sense how flustered you were. For a moment, you thought you saw the tiniest hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

“I—thanks,” you managed to say, your voice barely a whisper. You bit your lip, cursing yourself for sounding so meek. This was Aaron Hotchner—your boss, your colleague. And yet, here you were, acting like a nervous schoolgirl with a crush.

Well, because you did have a crush. A big one. A ridiculous, all-consuming crush that you had been battling for months now. And being this close to him, feeling his presence so close—it was like your brain short-circuited every time. His cologne, his energy--everything that surrounded your senses was just like a drug making your brain work in ways it really shouldn’t be when you have a job to do.

Hotch nodded, his attention returning to the file in front of you, but the moment didn’t pass unnoticed. The air between you felt different now--lighter. As if he understood, on some level, that your nerves weren’t because of the case, but because of him. 

You worked in silence after that, the tension slowly ebbing away. But every now and then, you caught him glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, as if he was still watching, still noticing.

And for the first time, you let yourself wonder if maybe, just maybe, Aaron Hotchner noticed you too.

two.

It had already been a morning and a half. The team had gathered for a debrief, with everyone scattered around their desks reviewing the latest case notes. You felt the weight of exhaustion after the last long night, and from the looks of it, so did everyone else. It was natural for these long hours to catch up to you all eventually. 

“Coffee run?” you asked, glancing around at the others. JJ and Spencer immediately nodded, followed by Morgan flashing you a grateful smile.

“I could use about three cups,” Emily quipped, massaging her temples.

You smiled back and quickly made your way to the break room. As you stood by the machine, the familiar hum of it brewing filled the room. You glanced at the lineup of mugs in your arms, including the one you had specifically set aside for Hotch. His was easy to pick out—simple, just like the man himself.

For some reason, even the simple act of grabbing coffee for him made you feel jittery. Maybe it was because of the way he always carried himself—calm, collected, completely in control. Or maybe it was the way he looked at you, like he was always assessing, always paying attention.

Or maybe it was because you had the world’s most inconvenient crush on your boss.

You sighed and shook your head. It's just coffee. Be normal.

When the machine finally finished, you loaded the cups and returned to the bullpen. As you handed the team their drinks, your nerves started to build as you approached Hotch’s office. His door was slightly ajar, and through the gap, you could see him typing away on his computer, his brow furrowed in concentration.

You knocked softly, pushing the door open a little wider. “Coffee?”

Hotch glanced up, his eyes softening for a brief moment as he saw you standing there, juggling the last two mugs. “Thank you,” he said, his voice warm but as professional as always.

You stepped forward, holding out his cup. “Uh, here,” you said, your voice coming out a little I quickly. As he reached for it, your fingers accidentally brushed against his.

The contact was fleeting but sent a jolt through your whole body. Your breath hitched, and suddenly, you were hyper-aware of how close he was. Your heart thudded against your ribcage, and you swore he must have heard it. You tried to ignore how your hand trembled slightly, but it was impossible with Hotch standing right there.

For a second, he didn’t move. His gaze flickered down to your hand, then back up to meet your eyes, and you could have sworn there was a flicker of amusement in his expression as if he was beginning to catch on to the hold he had over you. He took the cup from you carefully, his touch deliberate and slow. 

“Thank you,” he repeated, but this time, there was something softer in his tone. His lips curved ever so slightly—a small smile, barely noticeable if you weren’t paying attention, but you were. You always were.

You felt heat rise to your cheeks. Why am I such a mess around him?

“Oh—uh, no problem,” you managed to stammer, suddenly unable to look him in the eye. You took a step back, desperate to escape before you embarrassed yourself further. “Enjoy your coffee, Hotch.”

You turned to leave, feeling your face burn with embarrassment. Behind you, you heard him chuckle softly—a rare sound, one that sent another rush of heat through you. You could only hope he didn’t notice how flustered you were. But then again, judging by that tiny smile, he already had.

three.

A grueling case with long hours and high tension called for alcohol and camaraderie. When Rossi suggested they all unwind at a nearby bar after wrapping things up, no one argued. The idea of a drink and a few hours of normalcy was too tempting to pass up--and much needed.

You found yourself sitting at a long table with the rest of the team, squeezed between JJ and Hotch. Normally, that would have sent your nerves into overdrive, but after the first glass of wine—and then the second—you felt your anxiety loosen just a bit. Just enough to breathe without overthinking every little move you made next to him.

The conversation flowed easily around you, with Morgan and Garcia trading playful banter while Spencer tried to argue some statistic about criminal behavior. You laughed along, but every time Hotch spoke, your focus snapped to him. You couldn’t help it. It was like your mind was on high alert every time he addressed the group, or worse—you directly.

“Good work on the case,” he said at one point, turning to you with that intense gaze of his. “You managed the witness interviews really well. I think it made a difference.”

Your heart lurched. He was complimenting you—praising your work in front of the whole team. The sudden attention made your pulse quicken, and you could feel your face heating up despite the buzz from the drinks.

Before you could stop yourself, the words just spilled out.

With a slightly bolder tone than you usually used around him, you turned to face him fully, giving him a playful smile. “Well, maybe I just wanted to impress you, Hotch.”

The second the words left your mouth, you realized how bold they sounded. You raised your glass slightly, locking eyes with him for a moment longer than necessary. You’d just flirted with your boss. There was no going back now.

Hotch blinked, momentarily caught off guard, but then a slow smile—rare but devastating—appeared on his face. “Is that right?” he replied, his voice low and most definitely amused. 

Your heart practically stopped, but before you could spiral too much, JJ leaned over with a laugh. “Well, someone’s confident tonight.” 

You hadn’t even realized that not only did you flirt with Hotch, but you happened to do it in front of your coworkers--your profiling coworkers. Ones that were well-trained and versed in all sorts of fucked up psychology that “having an apparent crush on your older boss” would fall under. 

The moment passed quickly, and the conversation shifted again, but your head was spinning. The buzz from the drinks had officially worn off, leaving you hyper-aware of everything. You spent the rest of the night trying to avoid looking directly at Hotch, hoping that maybe—just maybe—he hadn’t taken your words too seriously.

By the time you walked into work the next morning, the weight of what happened at the dinner hit you full force. I flirted with Hotch. The realization felt like a brick sinking in your stomach.

You avoided his office all morning, burying yourself in paperwork and case files. Every time someone walked past your desk, you jumped, paranoid that it would be him coming to say something—anything—about last night.

Why did I have to say that? What was I thinking?

By midday, you were a ball of nerves. Every interaction with Hotch now felt loaded, as if you were walking on a tightrope. When he passed by your desk and gave you a small nod of acknowledgment, you nearly knocked your coffee over, your hands trembling as you tried to act casual.

You could still feel the burn of embarrassment every time you remembered how easy the words had slipped out. And the worst part? He hadn’t seemed uncomfortable at all. If anything, he had smiled. That tiny, knowing smile that you couldn’t get out of your head.

Later, when you were both in the conference room, going over case files, the tension felt unbearable. You barely managed to string together coherent answers every time he asked you a question, your brain too busy screaming Don’t be awkward.

But even in your shyness, you couldn’t help but wonder if he remembered what you said. If maybe, somewhere behind that calm, professional exterior, Aaron Hotchner had actually been flustered, too?

four. 

Everyone else had left hours ago, but you were still there, finishing up some paperwork that seemed never-ending. The only sound was the soft clicking of your keyboard and the occasional creak of your chair as you shifted positions. Being the newest member on the team, you often double- or even triple-check everything, afraid it would be wrong. This cost you a lot of your spare time, but in fairness, what else did you have going on? 

You weren’t surprised that Aaron Hotchner was still there, too. He was always the last to leave, always pushing himself past his limits. It was one of the things you admired about him—and maybe one of the reasons you found it so hard to concentrate whenever you were alone with him.

You glanced at the clock. It was well past 9 p.m., and the fatigue from the long day was starting to settle into your bones. You leaned back in your chair, rubbing your eyes when you heard footsteps approaching. Before you could turn around, Hotch’s calm, steady voice cut through the silence.

“You’ve been at this for hours,” he said softly, standing just behind your desk. “Maybe it’s time for a break.”

Your breath caught in your throat for a moment. You hadn’t realized how quiet it was until his voice filled the space. His tone almost vibrating against your ears. 

You quickly straightened up, trying to act casual, though you could already feel your pulse quickening.

“Oh, uh, yeah… probably a good idea,” you said, a bit too quickly. You glanced up at him, and for a split second, you wished you hadn’t. He was standing close—too close—and the sight of him with his tie slightly loosened, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, sent a fresh wave of nervousness through you. Why did he always have to look so effortlessly composed?

Hotch tilted his head slightly, as if considering something. “I was about to make some tea,” he said, his voice low and calming. “Would you like some?”

Tea. Something about the simplicity of the offer made your heart flutter. “Sure,” you replied, smiling faintly. “Tea sounds nice.”

A few minutes later, Hotch returned with two steaming mugs. He set one down beside your stack of papers and took a seat in the chair next to yours. 

You quickly pulled your hand back, hoping he hadn’t noticed the way your breath caught in your throat. But of course, he noticed everything. That’s who he was.

“Long day,” he said quietly, sipping his tea and glancing over at you.

You nodded, trying to keep your thoughts from spiraling. “Yeah. Feels like the days are getting longer.”

Hotch smiled softly, a rare but welcome sight. “I’d say you handled it well.”

Your heart skipped a beat. Compliments from Aaron Hotchner were few and far between, and when they came, they always seemed to hit harder than you expected. You swallowed nervously, feeling the familiar heat rising to your cheeks.

“T-Thanks,” you stammered, looking down at your tea and willing yourself not to blush. But it was no use. You were hyper-aware of how close he was, the faint scent of his cologne lingering in the air. Every word you could have said stuck in your throat, as if your mind had gone blank.

There was a brief silence, the kind that felt charged with something unspoken. Hotch leaned back in his chair slightly, his gaze steady on you. You could feel it—his calm presence, his quiet strength—and it only made your nerves worse. How did he manage to make small talk feel so intense?

“You don’t have to push yourself so hard, you know,” he said, his voice softer now, almost gentle. “You’re already doing more than enough. There’s nothing you need to prove--you deserve to be here.”

Your breath caught again. Was he worried about you? The thought made your heart race even faster. You tried to find the right words, but they felt stuck. All you could manage was a small, awkward laugh. “I guess I’m just trying to keep up with you.”

Hotch’s expression softened further, and for a moment, you swore there was something in his eyes—something warmer, more personal. He didn’t respond right away, just held your gaze for a beat longer than necessary.

Your cheeks felt like they were on fire now, and you quickly took a sip of your tea, hoping it would calm your racing heart. But the silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable. If anything, it felt like a quiet understanding had passed between the two of you, something unspoken but undeniably there.

Maybe he put together all of the pieces and realized you were hopelessly crushing on him, so he had pity and let you be. Maybe he thought men made you nervous--but then again, he’d seen you all buddy-buddy with Reid or even Morgan.

As the minutes passed, the tension slowly ebbed away, but the closeness remained. Hotch’s presence beside you felt reassuring, yet it kept your pulse thrumming in a way that made you wish you could stay like this just a little longer. Even if it meant fumbling over your words, you wouldn’t mind.

five.

The overhead lights buzzed softly, and the air was thick with the smell of coffee. You were sitting at the round table in the conference room, papers spread out in front of you, piecing together a presentation for the case debrief tomorrow. Your focus was sharp, and for once, you weren’t thinking about how close Hotch was sitting. Well, almost.

Aaron Hotchner was seated at the head of the table, reviewing files and notes from his section of the case, his brow furrowed in concentration. The silence between you felt comfortable—until it wasn’t.

Out of nowhere, Hotch spoke up, breaking the quiet. “Your organizational skills are impressive,” he said, his tone casual but sincere. “I don’t know how you keep all of this together so efficiently.”

You froze, your pen hovering above the notebook in front of you. He complimented you--again. The words sunk in slowly, and you could feel your face start to burn. Why did he always catch you off guard like this?

“I—uh, thanks,” you stammered, suddenly feeling the need to escape. Your heart raced as you realized how flustered you must look, your cheeks burning under his calm gaze. You barely managed to glance up at him, but his expression wasn’t teasing. It was soft, warm even.

“I just try to stay on top of things,” you mumbled, pushing your chair back too quickly. The sound echoed through the room, making you cringe. You could feel your face turning crimson as you gathered up your papers in a rush, trying to hide your embarrassment.

Why did he have to say something so nice? Why did you have to react like this every time?

You gave him a brief, awkward smile and practically bolted for the door. “I-I need to get this to JJ,” you blurted out, even though you had no intention of doing so.

As you reached the doorway, your hand on the handle, you heard him call your name—soft but unmistakable. You froze in place, half-turned, not daring to look back fully.

“By the way,” he said, his voice still calm but a touch more serious. “You don’t need to rush out every time I give you a compliment.”

Your breath caught, and for a split second, you weren’t sure if you could move. There was no teasing in his tone, no sharpness—just a quiet, sincere warmth. And for the first time, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, Hotch noticed more than you thought.

You finally turned slightly toward him, meeting his gaze briefly. “I… I’ll try not to,” you whispered, your voice shaky but honest. Without waiting for a response, you slipped out of the room, your heart pounding in your chest.

And as you left the room, you heard Hotch chuckle softly to himself. It wasn’t cruel; it was amused, affectionate even. That only made things worse.

As you walked down the hall, the sound of his words still echoed in your mind, replaying over and over. You didn’t need to rush out every time he complimented you. And for the first time, you wondered what might happen if you didn’t.

+one

It had been weeks since the last case that left you fleeing the conference room after Aaron Hotchner’s casual compliment about your organizational skills. You’d spent every day since trying to keep your interactions with him as short and as professional as possible, but avoiding him entirely wasn’t exactly an option. You were part of the team, and your role often required working closely with him. That only made your constant nervousness more exhausting.

Every time he passed by your desk, every time he said your name in that calm, authoritative tone, your heart would skip a beat. The nerves were always there, simmering just under the surface. You weren’t sure if he noticed how flustered you got around him or if he simply chalked it up to work stress. Either way, it made every interaction with him feel like walking on a tightrope.

And today was no different after another intense case had finally been closed. You were finishing paperwork at your desk when you saw Hotch step out of his office, his eyes scanning the bullpen. The moment his gaze landed on you, your stomach twisted.

He started walking over, his strides purposeful. You tried to keep your face neutral, even as the heat rushed to your cheeks. Stay calm. It’s just work.

You looked up at him when he stopped before your desk, forcing a smile. “Do you need something?”

Hotch’s expression was unreadable, but something in his eyes seemed different today. Less intense, more… hesitant? “Can I see you in my office for a moment?”

Your heart thudded in your chest, and you quickly nodded, not trusting your voice. You grabbed your notepad, assuming it was something case-related, and followed him back into his office.

As you stepped inside, he closed the door behind you. The click of the latch made the room feel suddenly smaller--more intimate. You turned to face him, clutching your notepad like a shield.

“Is everything okay?” you asked, trying to keep the nervousness out of your voice.

Hotch didn’t immediately respond. Instead, he walked over to his desk, leaning against it, his arms crossed. His posture was relaxed, but there was something in the way he looked at you—something that made your pulse quicken.

“I’ve noticed,” he began, his voice measured but quieter than usual, “that you’ve been avoiding me.”

Your stomach dropped. He noticed. You hadn’t thought it was that obvious, but of course, this was Aaron Hotchner. He noticed everything.

“I… I h-haven’t been avoiding you,” you stammered, though you knew it was a lie. “I’ve just been busy. Lots of cases lately, you know.”

Hotch’s gaze didn’t waver. “That’s not what it feels like.”

You swallowed hard, your nerves threatening to overwhelm you. He wasn’t angry; his tone wasn’t harsh or accusatory, but there was a weight to his words that made your throat go dry. He uncrossed his arms and took a small step toward you, closing the gap between you just enough to make your breath hitch.

“I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he continued, his voice softer now. “But I’ve noticed how you’ve been acting around me. And I have to admit, it’s been difficult to ignore.”

Your heart was pounding in your chest, your mind racing. Was he going to reprimand you for being unprofessional? Did he think you couldn’t handle your job because of the way you acted around him? Would he send you off to report to someone different? You felt the familiar heat rising in your cheeks and wished you could disappear.

“I’m sorry if I’ve been… awkward,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. At this moment, you felt like a small child, “It’s just—”

Before you could finish, Hotch interrupted, his expression softening in a way you hadn’t seen before. “You don’t have to explain. I think I know why.”

His words hung in the air between you, and suddenly, everything felt different. You blinked, your breath catching in your throat. “You do?”

Hotch took another small step forward, his gaze never leaving yours. He was so close now that you could feel the warmth radiating from him. For the first time, you noticed the way his usually composed features seemed more vulnerable—like he was grappling with something inside himself.

“I’ve noticed because I’ve been feeling the same way,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart stopped. He feels the same way? Your mind struggled to process what he was saying. Aaron Hotchner, your boss—the man who was always in control, always so composed—was confessing that he had feelings for you?

You opened your mouth to say something, but the words wouldn’t come. Your thoughts were a tangled mess, and all you could do was stare at him in stunned silence.

Hotch ran a hand through his hair, an uncharacteristically nervous gesture that sent a ripple of shock through you. He seemed just as uneasy as you were, as though he wasn’t used to being in this position—being vulnerable. “I’ve been trying to ignore it for a while,” he continued, his eyes searching yours for some kind of reaction. “But…but I can’t anymore.”

The silence between you felt thick with unspoken words, with all the tension and longing that had been building for weeks, maybe even months. And now it was all out in the open.

“I don’t know what to say,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Hotch smiled—just a small, almost shy smile that you’d never seen from him before. He let out a soft chuckle, “Neither do I. This is… new for me.”

Your mind was still racing, but somewhere amidst the chaos, you realized that he wasn’t just confessing to you. He was just as nervous, just as unsure. For the first time, Aaron Hotchner—the man who always seemed unshakable—was standing in front of you, vulnerable and open.

You felt a surge of courage then, maybe fueled by the realization that this wasn’t one-sided. He was just as affected by you as you were by him. Slowly, you took a step closer, closing the remaining distance between you.

“I didn’t think you’d ever notice,” you admitted, your voice trembling slightly, though steadier than before. You took a breath, forcing yourself to keep eye contact, despite the fluttering nerves in your stomach. “I thought I was just… making a fool of myself. That you’d think I was unprofessional.”

Hotch’s expression softened, his gaze never leaving yours. He shook his head gently, his eyes filled with something you couldn’t quite name, something more tender than you’d ever seen from him before. “You haven’t,” he said softly. “Believe me… I’ve noticed everything.”

The weight of his words hit you, and for the first time, you realized how closely he’d been watching, how much attention he’d been paying to all the little moments you thought were only one-sided. A warmth spread through you, melting away some of the nervous tension that had been building for months.

The silence between you wasn’t awkward anymore—it was charged, yes, but it was also full of something else. Understanding. Relief. The unspoken truth you’d both been dancing around finally laid bare.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke, just stood there, the distance between you feeling impossibly small. You took a deep breath, your heart still pounding but lighter now, and offered him a small, hesitant smile. “So… what happens now?” you asked, your voice quieter, as if you weren’t sure you wanted the spell to break.

Hotch’s smile was subtle, but it reached his eyes this time, easing some of the tension in his shoulders. “I’m not sure,” he admitted, his tone uncharacteristically gentle. “But I do know this… whatever we decide, we don’t need to rush.”

His words were steady and reassuring, and for the first time in a long while, you felt like you could breathe. The uncertainty was still there, yes, but so was the certainty that you weren’t alone in this anymore. That the feelings you’d been so afraid of had been mirrored all along.

You nodded slowly, a smile tugging at your lips. “Together, then?”

“Together,” he echoed, his voice quiet but firm.

And just as you turned to leave, feeling the tension melt away, Hotch called your name again. This time, his tone was softer, almost hesitant. You turned back to face him, your breath catching in your throat.

“One more thing,” he said, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. “I’ve spent a lot of time noticing you. Maybe now… we don’t have to hide it anymore?”

His words lingered in the air between you, heavy with meaning. You swallowed hard, your heart racing again, but it wasn’t from nerves this time. It was from the hope that maybe, just maybe, this was the start of something real.

You smiled a genuine smile this time. “I’d like that.”

With that, you left his office feeling lighter than you had in months. And for the first time, the uncertainty ahead didn’t feel so daunting.

tag list:

@zaddyhotchzaddyhotch

@estragos

@todorokishoe24

@looking1016

[brailsthesmolgurl]

"What's my hidden perk?"

Preview: The LADS boys and their hidden perks. (lemme know if you guys want a part 2 hehe)

SYLUS - horseriding

Quirking his silver brow, his crimson orbs tailed your gaze. A gaze that went from bottom to top, a view you could not believe witnessing in front of your eyes. The giant figure of your boyfriend on top of a Dutch Draft. "Are you planning to just stand there and watch me in awe or do you plan to ride with me?" His voice thick, specifically laced with proud mockery as he was enjoying the look of shock you had been wearing ever since he had told you that he is good at horse riding. He extended his palm to you and took your hand, providing balance to you as you walked up the steps and took a seat in front of him, on top of the horse. This is afterall, your first time riding a horse.

It all started out as a harmless joke while the both of you were watching some National Geographic show about horses. Till he nonchalantly mentioned that he has been riding horses from a very young age and hence the surprise date for today. Featuring your boyfriend, with a horse--that you had no idea where he got from. You tensed up when you felt his chest pressed against your back, his breaths fanned over the top of your head. You hate to admit it—but you still do anyways— how he always manages to get a reaction out of you, be it stemming from a simple gesture. "Now that you have found out about my secret talent, does this mean we get to ride horses more often?" He leaned down, whispering seductively against the shell of your ear. "Or perhaps you would just prefer riding me, sweetie?"

RAFAYEL - good with kids

“Careful.” Rafayel grabs ahold of your forearm, guiding you past the puddle in the vast garden. The date came about to be a surprise, with the charming boyfriend of yours appearing at your doorstep in the mid evening, seeking you out from the stuffiness of your house to embrace Mother Nature in all of its glory after a whole day of heavy rain. Blushing slightly, you continued walking with him down the cobblestoned pathways, enjoying the coolness of the rain till sounds of laughters filled the air. A couple of kids were perched over a drain cover, staring into the waters with their beady eyes.

Rafayel drops his hold from your forearm and held onto your hand, the casual yet romantic gesture still greatly affects you. “Come on, let’s see what they are looking at.” At a certain extent, when you stared at your boyfriend from a distance, interacting with the children, laughing and chuckling as he was playing catch with them made your stomach feel warm. For someone like him, who spends most of his days locked away in that mansion of his, interacting with only a fish and canvases, you had never thought of him to be good with children. However, Rafayel had yet again managed to surprise you. Seeing him waltzing over to you, with a huge grin stapled on his face, you can’t help but mimicked his expression. “You seemed bored. Do you want to join us cutie?”

XAVIER - has an annual pass to amusement parks

It took forever for the both of you to plan a date due to the recent influx of wanderers. Captain Jenna had gotten the both of you to be split up into two different shifts; with you being the leader for the day shift while your boyfriend, Xavier is incharge of the night shift. Hence, when the wanderers' amount had finally decreased, Xavier did not hesitated to ask you out on a date. "I had always wanted to bring you here. It was on my list." He spoke, hands holding tightly onto your smaller palms as he led you past the huge archways of the theme park. Colours of all spectrums welcomed you, revealing the colourful fanfare of a theme park and you could feel your inner giddiness peeking through your smile.

As the both of you stood in line for the tickets, you were surprised when Xavier muttered to you. "Since it is your first time here, I will buy the ticket for you." When it came to your turn for the ticket purchase, your boyfriend only requested for one and you tapped onto his shoulder nervously, immediately asking him if he was only going to get one and watch you from outside or perhaps he may need some aid for funds. The man however beamed shyly, ear tips turning a shade of rubicund when he tried to explain himself. "I...uhm...have an annual pass?" The hidden question mark at the end of his sentence made you chuckled in return, mind already imagining how funny it would be to see him riding the theme park rides all by himself. "But, I got you an annual pass too." He held up the golden ticket in his hand. "From now on, we can both come together as much as we want."

ZAYNE - good at snowboarding

Zayne had appeared at your doorstep a little too early than his usual timing, which is usually going by your timing as you do like taking your time to sleep in and he do not find the need to disturb your beauty sleep. But today seems to be different when he appeared in front of your door with a coat in his hand. When you asked him about the purpose of him coming so early, the man only kept it short and simple, replying accurately to what you had asked. "I had taken a few days off of work and I had booked us a spot at a ski lodge." When you had an eyebrow raised, he continued to explain himself. "You had been watching the snowboarding event for the Olympics recently. I assumed you would like to try it yourself." You weren't exactly surprised at how conscious he tends to be, but you are more concerned of yourself as you had never done any snowboarding in your life.

"You had never snowboarded before haven't you?" Zayne questioned, those forest green orbs of his meeting yours with amusement. As you nodded, you could feel your cheeks heating up, warming you from the harsh cold winds. You hesitated though, asking him in return if he were to know anything about snowboarding given that during the safety briefing he did asked a couple of questions here and there. "Me? I would not say I am good at it, but I did tried it before, ever since I was a kid." He patted your head, a small smile tugging onto the end of his lips. "Don't worry, I will hold onto you the whole time and make sure you do not hurt your knees or fall into the snow." His arm snaked around your waist, pulling you close against his side and he planted a kiss onto your forehead. "But you can definitely fall into my arms if you slip."

[spencerrreiddd]

Three, Two, One. - Chapter 2

Summary: After telling Spencer that you’re pregnant with his baby- how is he going to react? what’s going to happen now?

Pairing: UnitChief!Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

Warnings: Pregnancy, Mention of abortion, Angst, Fluff?

WC: 3.0k

A/N: - chapter 2 has finally made its ARRIVAL! enjoy ! 🔪🤍

UPDATE: chapter 2 is under an editing process !

Three, Two, One. - Chapter 1.

"Spencer, I'm pregnant - You are the last person I slept with. I am pregnant with your baby" You said it before you even had time to think about what you had said, it wasn't lies but telling him now?

You could visibly see all of the color leave Spencer's face, you wondered what was going through his big genius brain, if anything at all.

"W-what? We were careful, we were very careful." -

Before you could even produce words, you were cut off again by Spencer and the panic coursing through his entire being.

"How could this of even happened, Y/N?" He asked quickly, making his panic more and more obvious by the second.

"Spencer, you are fully aware of how this happens and careful isn't always guaranteed to be 100% effective" After the words came out of your mouth, you realized it was a bit snippy but- c’mon, Spencer is a genius. He of all people should know that being careful and using protection is always 100%.

All he could do was stare, like he wanted to say something but had no idea how to start moving his lips to speak the words. He was frozen in place.

"I- I know we are not in a relationship, Penelope told me that you were talking to someone and that's fine- if you don't want any part in this, I will keep my lips sealed" You continued, it broke more of your heart saying that.

You knew Spencer, you know Spencer and you know that he isn't the type of person to abandon someone with his child- You would be 100% fine being a single parent and healthily co-parenting with him, if that is what it came down to but you would be lying to yourself, if you said you didn’t want a relationship with him. You’ve wanted a relationship with him for years, you just never spoke on your feelings so a beautiful friendship wasn’t ruined because of it.

"Y/N, I'm just in shock, I mean, I wasn't expecting this- I was expecting something after the conversation I walked up on with Alvez and Garcia but not this" You honestly could understand what he was saying but did it hurt? Of course, it did but you are also taking his feelings into consideration.

And what conversation did he walk in on with Alvez and Garcia anyways?

Spencer could barely look you in the eye, he was starting to pace around like a dog that needed to go out for the potty.

"If you need time to let this all sink in, that's okay with me and I understand, honestly. This is a lot to take in, in a short amount of time" You could sympathize with him, for godsakes it's still hard for you to accept whats happening but you know you have to accept it.

"I just need some time to- to bring this all in, It's just a lot" He says, finally looking you in the eyes.

"I will contact you, Y/N. I won't leave you in the dark, please trust my word on that" His eyes pleading with you to trust him, to trust what he is saying to you.

And to be entirely honest, you do trust him. You trust him with your entire life but it doesn't stop the pain that you feel in your chest and how suffocating the pain is.

"Take your time, please. I understand that it's a lot, Spence- just don’t leave me in the dark” You surprisingly manage to choke out with the hot tears pricking your eyes.

Watching him walk out of your apartment tore you apart, you wanted to chase after him, beg him to come back, wrap his arms around you and tell you that it's all going to be okay but it was all wishful dreaming.

Right now, all you wanted to do was curl up in a ball and cry and maybe stuff your face with sweet treats, sweet treats that you didn't even have but you knew who would have them.

to: ‘Penelope Garcia 🖥️💖🍩’

'are you busy? - I need someone and I need sweet treats, please come through for me, my sweet crazy lady'

You could at least giggle at yourself with the little random nickname you through in there at the end of your text message. Ever since you joined the BAU and met Pen, y’all were best friends, she was there for the worst times of your live and for the best times of it.

You always thought, if she can produce weird and funny nicknames for people then you can to- outside of Spencer, she was the one you grew very close to.

You were close with everyone and you loved them dearly- Rossi, Tara, JJ, all of them but it just seemed so much easier with Penelope.

from: ‘Penelope Garcia 🖥️💖🍩’

'I am on my speedy way, my sweet sugar plum'

All you could manage to do after reading her text was zone out and stare at a random wall in your apartment, other than feeling like your heart was absolutely shattered, you wren't sure if you were even happy about all of this- maybe, just maybe if the situation would've been different, you could probably be happier.

Have you always wanted children? Of course! but before getting pregnant did you at least want to be in a stable relationship or marriage? Also, yes.

Before you even realized how much time had passed, Penelope was running through your front door and holding all of your favorite sweet treats- Honey Buns, Oatmeal Cream Pies and your ultimate favorite, Fudge Rounds.

As soon as she was fully in the door and sat everything down, you collapsed in her arms crying your heart out. Everything, the tears and the sobs had been waiting to spill out until this moment.

"Okay, okay, what's going on" Worry coating her voice - "Nobody could reach you after you ran out of work, even Spencer was worried about you!- Did you get any of my texts or voicemails"

"I told him- I told him about the baby. It all came out before I could even process my thoughts" You had a small amount of hope in your soul that she would be able to understand that through your sobs.

Looking at Pen after you said that, you could see the wheels turning in her head. Realization setting in.

"Reid came by here? By your apartment?" She questioned.

"Yeah, I was just relaxing and came out to the kitchen and I nearly ran right smack into him. He nearly gave me a heart attack in my own house" You were still unappreciative of that scare to say the least.

"Ho-how did he take the news"

"Not horrible but not how a woman would hope her-"

"Person would react" Penelope cuts you off seeing as you couldn't even figure out you own words.

"Exactly but as hard as it is, he isn't even my person. He's my boss, Pen. My boss. Our boss got me pregnant because we stupidly decided to have sex a few times to release the stress of work and life because evidently, we couldn't just sit down over coffee and vent to each other" You don't feel shame admitting that, should you? Maybe but you and Spencer are both adults.

Now that you're thinking about it, he never did confirm or deny, if he was talking to someone or not- It probably wasn't your business but at the same time, you felt like it was. I mean, you are carrying his child and you don't want to be responsible for tearing apart a relationship or a relationship that is forming.

Spencer has been through enough hurt with JJ and with Maeve. You couldn't bear the hurt and the guilt of causing him more pain like that or even similar to it.

Remembering and witnessing his pain first hand after Maeve was gut-wrenching, it made you want to lay and sob right there with him.

from: Spencer 'The Genius' Reid

'I'm sorry for how I left, how I was unable to sit down and talk with you. Can we meet tomorrow?

'It would be good to sit and talk about all of this and there are things that I need to tell you, still.'

You couldn't even look at the message, so you had Penelope read it and just simply asked her to tell you if it was good or if it was bad.

"He wants to sit and talk to you, says he is sorry for how he left- I would say that's a good message" Handing you your phone back, so you could message him back. If you could even bring yourself to do that. In reality, you knew that it was the right thing to do.

to: Spencer 'The Genius' Reid

'Sure, I would feel comfortable speaking here, at my apartment. Is that okay with you? You can come over at any time tomorrow- If not, let me know and we can figure out another place to meet'

"I asked him if we could just meet and talk here. Do you think that's okay to even ask? Asking him to come here? I should've asked where he felt comfortable meeting" You are beginning to overthink everything and rambling on- you care about Reid's feelings but right now, you're caring for yourself more as selfish as that sounds.

"Y/N, that's a perfectly fine thing to ask- what's gonna happen? He's going to knock you up.. again? Y'all are talking, not getting under the sheets" How she said it made you laugh a bit considering the situation.

from: Spencer 'The Genius' Reid

'That's fine with me, Y/N- I will be there at 10:30.'

You surprisingly feel relief washing over you reading his message-

'Let's just hope tomorrow goes better' You think to yourself.

“Oh. Pen. What conversation did Spencer walk in on you and Alvez having, anyways?”

“I saw you run out of work and I knew at that point, Alvez opened his mouth about something I shouldn’t have even spoken to him about and I’m sorry, for telling him- we didn’t tell Reid anything, though” She admits, you weren’t mad at her- you just had confusion after hearing Spencer say he overheard their conversation.

After a few hours of eating sweets and watching Modern Family with Penny, you started getting tired -

"I'm getting tired, Pen- I'm gonna go to bed, you're welcome to crash on the couch, if you're too tired to drive" Partially hinting at her that you wanted to be alone but you still didn't want her falling asleep behind the wheel and hurting herself or someone else.

"Don't be silly, I'm never too tired and plus, I enjoy sleeping on my own couch, if i'm sleeping on any couch, ma'am" She deadpans as she stands to leave.

Hugging her good-bye and giving her the biggest thank you for coming over to calm you and well, the sweets too.

"I love you, Penny- I'm also keeping these sweets. I know my pregnancy cravings will appreciate them soon and you for bringing them"

"You better be happy that I love and adore you, I wanted to take the Honey Buns with me- oh, and yes, I love my next god-child too" She says in a jokingly way while walking out the door.

After Penelope left, you decided that you did need sleep even though you would probably be struggling to even close your eyes because of your wonderful habit to and overthink every tiny thing about anything and everything in you life- all of this going on with Spencer is just fueling your ability to overthink. Lovely.

'What if he asks me to get rid of it' 'What if he ends up being a deadbeat and i'm stuck raising this baby alone' 'What if we can't co-parent in a healthy way and it causes the child trauma' - Any and every 'what if' flew through your mind. It felt like hours before your eyes finally closed and you were able to get sleep.

After waking up to the sun shining directly into your eyes, you roll over just to see 10:27 A.M on your alarm clock. - You don't remember ever having to fly out of bed that quickly, except maybe when you were in school and running late or even yesterday with work.

Walking out of your room and into the living room to sit in peace for about a minute or two before Spencer shows up. The nausea you began to feel was becoming over powering. Was it from pregnancy? Was it from the nerves? You didn't know but you were accepting your fate that you may or may not upchuck everywhere.

10:30 A.M - KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

"Right on time" You mumble to yourself, you weren't expecting him to be a minute early or late.

"Come in" You yell, not having any energy to stand up and not wanting to move because it was making your nausea 10x worse.

"Hey" He greets coming through your door, he doesn't appear to have gotten any sleep- his hair messy, he has dark bags under his eyes.

"Hey, glad to see you showed- I'm sorry, I didn't mean that in a horrible way, I know what you said yesterd- I'm rambling. I'm glad you're here, Spencer" Another bad habit of yours, rambling on and on when you were nervous.

"Me too. Where do you want to start- I mean, I've never had to have this conversation with anyone else before" You could clearly hear the nerves in his voice.

You know you want to keep the baby. Regardless of what happens between you and Spencer. Tell him that.

"I'm keeping the baby, Spencer. That's my plan. I know we aren't in a relationship and we don't have to be to healthily co-parent and if you don't want to be involved, I understand because you're working on building a relationship with someone else but-" Spencer cuts you off before you can continue on with your rambling.

"Okay, pause for just a minute. I'm not in a relationship, I'm not working towards a relationship with anyone else. Where are you getting that information?" He asks with slight irritation in his voice.

"Penelope did, I went into work yesterday and I told her about me being pregnant, blah blah blah- she told me that you had a girlfriend, as far as she knew at least because the contact name for her 'wasn't a name you gave a friend"

"Y/N, getting back to the point then I will come back and touch on that- I wanted you to keep this baby, I want you to keep our baby. I've always wanted to be a dad, you know that about me. I want to be here every step of the way with you, with our child" Spencer is looking into your eyes with every word coming from his lips.

"And to touch on this topic because the names in my contacts are evidently Penelope's business, the name she is referring to is 'Pretty Girl', which is you, Y/N- Since we're on the honesty road, Y/N, I love you and I mean that, I've loved you for years, this isn't coming out of nowhere for me and it's not because of our current situation, either" You're blown away by everything Spencer has just said to you to say the absolute least.

Honestly, now that your mind isn't running a marathon, you could pinpoint certain changing things between you and Spencer- the longing looks between one another, bringing each other breakfast and coffee in the mornings, which never happened beforehand, the private meetings after work to just talk, nothing sexual ever involved but last but not least, the sex between the two of you.

'He loves me, he loves our child, he's been in love with me for years- I am the weird? contact name in his phone that Pen had spotted.' You think to yourself, seemingly not able to produce words after Spencer's confessions.

"Spence, I don't even know what to say or how to begin saying it. - I love you, I loved you since the first time I saw you walk into the bullpen and Gideon introduced his newest prodigy to all of us. - I'm happy, so happy that you want to be apart of our babies life and be here for us."

Neither of you have words after you both say your peace, you've both just poured your hearts out but your eyes are still saying so many things to each other.

"Y/N, I love you and I want a future with you. I want to have a family with you, if you'll allow it" Spencer confesses further moving closer to you.

"I would love that, Spencer" It came out as a whisper but with how close he was to you, to your face- you know that he heard you.

Moving even closer, Spencer takes your face in his hands and kisses you gently- It's a kiss that you can tell is filled with love, comfort and pure gentleness. Nothing like the kisses y'all shared in bed when y'all were just trying to reach an orgasm after a rough case.

Finally, you both break apart, breathing heavily, foreheads resting against each others.

"Not to ruin such a beautiful moment that I have been waiting years for, what's going on with all the 'Little Debbie' boxes" Spencer jokingly asks you, finally realizing the boxes you forgot to put away last night.

"Penelope was here last night, I asked her to come over with sweets after you had left- I needed honey buns to cope" Shrugging your shoulders saying it, you had no shame in your sweet tooth game and you certainly wouldn't when your pregnancy cravings really started attacking you.

"So, another quick thing- of all people, why would you tell Alvez and Garcia this news?" Spencer looking at you, confused as ever as to why you would tell two of the biggest blabbers.

"I didn't tell Alvez, I told Garcia and she "let it slip" to Alvez- Alvez is why I left the other day. He came up to me talking about it loud enough for anyone else to hear him, if they were paying any attention at all- It got to me, frustrated me. I should've communicated better but, I wasn't exactly coping well yesterday" There was nothing to hold back now and frankly, at this point, you had zero shame about any of that and any of what was currently happening.

"I'm not upset- I was worried, I should've came myself after I heard that you left, I should've at the very least sent someone to come and check on -"

"Spencer, it's okay. I would've probably ignored the knocking of anyone and my phone was on do not disturb anyways, I wanted to be alone. Don't beat yourself up about this. We're okay. I love you." You couldn't stop yourself from cutting him off, you couldn't stand to watch him beat himself up, you couldn't stand watching anyone beat themselves up.

"Y/N, I love you and I want you to be mine, I want this family."

"And I love you, Spencer and I want to be yours and I want you to be apart of this family. I loved you then and I love you now."

not going to lie, i thought this was going to be a 3 part story- not including the epilogue that i do plan to make for this mini-series.

i, personally am happy with how this turned out with this being my first writing in so long and being rusty to say the least.

i hope you, my dearies, enjoyed reading it and i hope you look forward to more stories coming your way.

PLEASE MAKE SURE TO LEAVE FEEDBACK

TAGLIST: @donttrustlove @sebastiansstanswhore @eddiesdrummergf @hayleythecannibal @fanfic-viewer @kyrathekiller @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @diffidentphantom @ivet4

IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE TAGGED IN FUTURE STORIES or FOR THE EPILOGUE- slide into my inbox and let me know so that i can get you on my list !

[bakugoushotwife]

in my opinion, gojo’s storyline has been handled so so poorly i can’t help but think it’s intentional. it is not bad writing to kill a character—even a beloved character. i know most people will dismiss my criticisms because gojo is so beloved to me and so many others. i’ve said before that i don’t mind if he died. does it hurt? of course, and i would still cry and be sad about it. but there is a beautiful way to do it. with respect and honor for his legacy—for what he has done for your manga, the characters in it, and audiences worldwide. but no…gege chose the path of horror and disrespect. at certain points i’d say to myself, well. this is a dark manga. but essentially gojo is the only character that receives this treatment. since the beginning—since suguru left him, he’s been wondering if he mattered because he was a person, or if he only mattered because he was powerful and useable. we certainly fucking answered that question. he is a weapon and nobody ever cared about him at all!!!

and we knew he was being used—he knew he was being used, but he is selfless. so he did it for his kids. for megumi and yuuji and yuuta—he wanted them to be safe. in these flashbacks it’s exceedingly clear that he knew he would die. again—that’s not my issue. gojo dying to sukuna makes plenty of sense and it would hurt to leave it there. but to give us an afterlife scene where he’s presented a choice—north and south—that concept lead nowhere, that’s truly fucked up. to leave all the subtle clues and hints for no reason but to keep people reading and theorizing his return is fucked up. to continue to use his imagery to promote your manga when you know he’s not even honored in your manga is fucked up. we don’t get a funeral or a grave for him. no one’s spoken about him in chapters despite him fighting for hours against sukuna and damaging him so much that yuuji could win, nothing. yuuta wearing him like a costume and no one is horrified about it. i thought his students WERE different. they weren’t jujutsu society yet. that’s why gojo was their teacher—shaping them into better human beings. how am i supposed to trust in their future when it seems they’re just as cold and heartless as everyone before them? no one has honored gojo in any way since the moment he died. and they’ve forgotten about him. he spent his entire life fighting and no one can even say thank you. gege intentionally used gojo to promote the end of his manga because he knows that gojo fans make up at least half of his fanbase so had we stopped reading when he died, he would have lost a lot of traction. he baited us intentionally, cruelly, and something that transcends storytelling. i’ve truly never seen a mangaka have this sort of vitriol for one of their characters and the people that love him.

we spent the entire last chapter talking about some random fucking mission when we have several unanswered questions and concerns. i thought gege said he wanted this ending to be shocking and something you didn’t see in shonen? tying everything up neatly where no one has any trauma or grief for what they’ve experienced, everyone comes back to life except the one character you hate specifically and choso, defying your own power structures and having everyone laughing into the sunset is exactly how shonen ends so what in the fuck is he talking about??

let me disclaim, this is not megumi hate at all. i love him very much and i am so happy he’s back with the group but like. he shouldn’t be able to even walk. he tanked unlimited void for over 6 minutes whenever that length caused irreversible damage to sukuna himself. not to mention the countless black flashes. so what the fuck? he doesn’t mention gojo at all?? the first time he laughs in this manga is after he reads a note written by his dead fucking caretaker about his dead fucking father? like i don’t believe. random open ended kenjaku/suguru mention just to piss me off, an absolutely no mention of gojos sacrifice or how they’ll miss him. i’m sick to my stomach. gege defiled his memory both in the story and outside of it. wow.

P.S. SUKUNA CARED MORE ABOUT GOJO THAN ANYONE ELSE (SUGURU IS NOT INCLUDED IN THIS I MEAN HIS STUDENTS AND SOCIETY)

[n0tamused]

Hello! I wanna send a req if u don't mind! Separate hcs/headcanons for Blade & Jing Yuan with gn!reader where the reader is being dense when another man tries to flirt with them. That's all & thx!

Contents: fluff, gn reader, hope you enjoy! Sorry for the long wait

Jing Yuan:

-The General of the Luofu and his lover are what people see as an example of a stable relationship, considering just how long you’ve been together, and not just as romantic partners either. Jing Yuan trusts you without a doubt, and you trust him all the same in equal measure, if not even more.

-Trust is not something either of you debate, and you are both happy to know of one another’s ability to trust and rely on the other, but that same trust can, in no way, be applied to the people outside of the relationship - strangers especially. 

-From this, there were a few instances where a stranger might have tried to approach the General, even if you were nearby, sputtering flowery words or playing with the locks of their hair. Jing Yuan never entertained such actions, brushing them aside and making clear mention how he “had to return to his beloved” before leaving the person aside. He knows how many people swoon over him and makes it a point to give you even more love to reassure you that he’d never look at any of them as fondly as he looks at you. You’re the only one that has a place in his heart. 

-But what Jing Yuan is not exactly fond of experiencing is you going through the same thing. Even from afar he can see how your lips press into a thin uncomfortable line, your eyes gazing at this stranger in caution, unblinking with unease. He sees you try, and vaguely hears as he approaches, how you try and get out of the conversation without making much of a fuss, and although you are firm too - the other is way too stubborn to back off

-The large hands of Jing Yuan find their way onto your sides, and he’s now peering at the person over your shoulder with that coy smile on his face. He doesn’t look threatening per se, but one would have to be a fool to not understand the mistake of their doings now

-He greets the person just as amiably, asking you what is going on, a curious little cat he is, he wants to know. But he doesn’t linger, he knows you want to get away, just as much as he wants to remove you from this situation. He tells the person something rather cryptic, rather poisoned honey for words, and the person understands - that much he makes sure off before he politely excuses you both away

-The General isn’t someone people fear and he doesn’t ever feel the need to present himself as a figure that needs to herald any unease of fear. He only dislikes his partner being put in such an unfavorable position and he will use his vast vocabulary to hide little threats for such behavior skillfully. His partner’s comfort is up on his priority list and he doesn’t play around with that

Blade:

-Blade is not one to beat around the bush or pray for forgiveness from anyone he might offend with his bluntness, and he certainly keeps this demeanor even after forgetting certain things due to Mara or Kafka’s Spirit Whisper

-As a lover he is rather distant and although he cares somewhere deep down in his old, scarred heart, a stranger wouldn’t be able to guess you’re even friends out in the open world. He doesn’t like standing in one place for too long, and if there’s intel that needs to be gathered or something that needs to be done, he puts a reasonable distance between the two of you as well, safety reasons mainly come to mind, but a part of him doesn’t want you to be involved in this business anyway so subconsciously he is trying to distance you from the operations as a whole. He tries and he fails, but he tries again next time and fails again.

-He always has an eye out for you, like a sixth sense ingrained into his mind.

-Along the lines of his work he vaguely does remember a few bold individuals that have tried to “hit on him”, but they were either not completely sober or were easily ignored. He wasn’t the person to entertain any flirtatious remarks and he isn’t the easiest person to approach. He scares people easily, so he doesn’t have much of a problem with people getting in his way just to say his eyes are pretty or something else.

-You, on the other hand, are not nearly as blunt or scary as he is, everyone’s aware of that. 

-He doesn’t waste time either. Once he senses you may be uncomfortable by another person’s approach to you, he’s already stepping in and making the person scurry off with a few rash choice of words that definitely sting at best. 

-Similarly to Jing Yuan, he values the peace your own peace of mind brings, and he doesn’t play around when it comes to your comfort. If someone disturbs you, he will make sure they stop and never do so again.

-He’s rather protective of you, even in those moments where he seems to forget the connection you two share.

-Just imagine: You’re talking to this unpleasant stranger, alcohol is clinging to them like perfume and they’re talking about how they’d love to invite you over for dinner, but suddenly they look over your shoulder where Blade is now taking a step towards you. He seemingly appeared out of thin air, merged from the crowd and he’s wearing the darkest of expressions, but he is unbothered truly. You don’t have to look behind you to know it is him either, he radiates that certain atmosphere that is hard to mistake. “Is there something wrong here?” he asks plainly, stiffly even, the question more pointed to you as he glares the stranger down. The stranger, unsure if this was alcohol's doing or reality is quick to scurry away with plenty of excuses bubbling up to their lips and farewells. 

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

[rabbidbunwy]

A drunk Sukuna in love with you 🫧🍸🥂🫧✧˖°

Contents: Best friend!Sukuna x Best friend!reader,mention of alchol[duh],OOC Sukuna[out of character],reader doesn't recognise Sukuna feelings and takes jokes too far,confession went wrong,angst,mention of throwing up

i'm no english native so sorry for some mistakes

please reblog 🔁 and like❤️

P.s:sorry for the changing in the aesthetic i'm trying to find the right one ;P and please don't harass me for writing a non canon Sukuna,thank you

@muzansslxt @candy69gurl @kiwicopia @satorkive @ponderingmoonlight

"You're so clingy when you're drunk" you remark, barely suppressing a smirk as you look at your best friend. He's practically plastered, his body slumped against you like a drunken pile of limbs. You can't help but wonder how he managed to get this wasted.

"You really need to learn how to handle your alcohol, King of Curses" you tease, gently poking at his cheek.

Sukuna, unsurprisingly, scowls, his features twisting into a displeased pout. He lifts his scarlet gaze to meet your amused one, his grip on your waist not budging an inch. "Tch, shut up" he grumbles, his words slurring slightly. "I can handle my alcohol just fine."

The air between you is thick with familiarity and shared history, your banter as natural as breathing. Despite his current state, you can see the hint of a smirk playing on his lips, a rare softness in his usually cold eyes.

"Oh really?" You challenge, your smirk widening into a full-blown grin. "Then why are you clinging to me like a koala right now, hm?" You gently nudge his cheek again, clearly enjoying yourself.

Sukuna lets out a low, almost petulant growl, clearly not appreciating being called out on his current needy behavior. "I'm not clinging" he denies, though his actions belie his words as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, drawing in a deep breath.

You can't help but chuckle at his denial. "Right, because burying your face into my neck and wrapping your arms around me like an octopus is totally not clinging" you tease, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "What,are you in love with your best friend or something?" you laughed. Sukuna immediately snaps his head up at your words, a mixture of surprise and irritation flashing in his scarlet eyes. "W-What!?" he splutters, clearly caught off guard. "In love with you? Don't make me laugh" he huffs, though his face is noticeably more flushed than before.

"Yeah,because if you really loved me that would be disgusting" you joked a bit bitterly giggling waving your hand.

Sukuna stiffens, his grip on your waist tightening involuntarily. Your words cut surprisingly deep, causing his face to tighten and his eyes to darken momentarily. He looks away, a flicker of… something crossing his features. Disbelief? Hurt? Anger? He couldn't put a name to it.

When he speaks, his usual tone is edged, trying to mask the emotions brewing beneath the surface. "Love you? Don't flatter yourself" he sneers. "thats what i'm saying,we will never love eachother,and i don't love your nor i will ever will" you said unconsciously has you sat on the sofa turning on the tv.

Sukuna's heart clenches painfully at your words, an unexpected ache spreading through him. Deep down, a small part of him had hoped… had thought maybe you loved him, even a bit. But no, you just confirmed that it wasn't possible.

He grits his teeth, swallowing down the lump in his throat. "Good" he grumbles, refusing to look at you. "I don't want your love… or anyone's, for that matter. It's useless."

Despite his words, you notice the slight tremor in his voice, a hint of vulnerability that he tries to hide. Sukuna may appear aloof and uncaring most of the time, but behind that rough exterior, he's more sensitive than he'd ever admit.

Leaning back against the sofa, you watch him through the corner of your eye. He's tense, his shoulders tight, and his gaze is fixed on the TV, though you're not sure if he's actually watching or just avoiding looking at you.

The silence between you feels heavy, the air thick with unspoken words. Neither of you speak, the tension palpable. Sukuna's mind is a whirlwind of thoughts and conflicting emotions, his heart warring with his pride. He wants to say so much, to confess the true depths of his feelings, but fear and denial hold him back.

He steals a glance at you from the corner of his eye, taking in your profile. You look peaceful, your attention on the TV, completely oblivious to the turmoil inside him. He grits his teeth, torn between the desire to blurt out the words on the tip of his tongue and the ingrained habit of hiding his true feelings behind a facade of indifference.

"Hey" he mutters, his voice gruff and low, almost inaudible over the sound of the TV. "I, uh… need to use the bathroom."

Sukuna stands, swaying a little, and heads towards the bathroom, leaving you alone. As soon as the door closes, he leans heavily against it, his chest heaving as he tries to regain control of his tumultuous emotions.

The silence of the bathroom is deafening. He runs the cold water, splashing some on his face, hoping it'll sober him up and calm his racing heart. But it doesn't work. The image of you, sitting on the sofa, not looking at him, is etched in his mind, fueling the storm inside him.

He grips the edge of the sink, his knuckles turning white. Why does it hurt so much? Why does it sting to hear you say you could never love him?

Sukuna clenches his teeth, anger bubbling up beneath his pain. "It's just the alcohol" he mutters to himself, trying to convince himself that his emotions are just a byproduct of the inebriation. "It's just the alcohol making me think nonsense… feel stupid things."

He looks at himself in the mirror, his reflection blurry through his intoxicated haze. He scowls, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. "Foolish. You're being foolishly sentimental, King of Curses" he chides himself.

Sukuna clenches his teeth, anger bubbling up beneath his pain. "It's just the alcohol" he mutters to himself, trying to convince himself that his emotions are just a byproduct of the inebriation. "It's just the alcohol making me think nonsense… feel stupid things."

He looks at himself in the mirror, his reflection blurry through his intoxicated haze. He scowls, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. "Foolish. You're being foolishly sentimental, King of Curses" he chides himself. But no matter how much he berates himself, no matter how much he tries to will the feelings away, the ache in his chest persists. He splashes more water on his face, the coldness doing nothing to soothe the fire inside him.

And then, the sound of a knock on the bathroom door jolts him out of his thoughts.

"Oi, are you okay in there?" Your voice filters through the door, laced with concern. Sukuna freezes, his mind racing. He can't let you see him like this—weak, vulnerable.

"I'm fine" he barks, his tone gruff and defensive. "Just… give me a minute."

There's a moment of silence on the other side of the door before you speak again. "You don't sound fine" you say, your voice softer now. "Let me in."

Sukuna's breath hitches slightly at your words. He's torn—part of him wants you to come in, to see him in his vulnerable state, to know what he's really feeling. But the other, more prideful half, wants to protect himself, to maintain his cool, indifferent facade.

"No" he says firmly, though the word lacks its usual authority. "I don't need your damn help."

"You're being stubborn" you reply, your voice filled with both annoyance and concern. "Just open the door." There's a note of finality in your tone, like you won't take no for an answer.

Sukuna glares at the door, weighing his options. Part of him admires your stubbornness, the other resents it. But he knows he can't keep you at bay forever.

With a frustrated huff, he wrenches the door open, standing there in all his disheveled, drunken glory. He's a mess, but he tries to maintain his usual intimidating glare. "Happy now?" he sneers, crossing his arms across his chest.

You step forward, your eyes roaming over him, taking in his disheveled appearance. There's a flicker of something in your expression—sympathy, maybe?—but it's gone before he can be certain.

"You look like a toddler who hasn't napped all day" you remark dryly, reaching out to gently push some of his unruly hair back into place.

Sukuna flinches at the unexpected touch, his body betraying him by responding to your gentle caress. He glares at you, trying to mask the way his heart skipped a beat. "Don't touch me" he growls, but his voice lacks its usual conviction.

You ignore his protest, continuing to fix his hair. Your fingers are gentle but firm, deftly untangling the knots and setting his locks back in order.

"You need to sober up" you tell him, your tone matter-of-fact. "Sit" you order, pointing at the edge of the bathtub.

Sukuna scowls, but he obeys, albeit reluctantly. He perches on the edge of the bathtub, his arms crossed over his chest. He tries to appear nonchalant, but the effect is somewhat ruined by his obvious lack of balance, the way he sways slightly even sitting down.

"I don't need to sober up" he mutters, more as a matter of principle than anything else.

"You can't even sit straight" you note, your tone a mix of amusement and exasperation. You grab a glass from the sink and fill it with water from the tap.

"Here" you say, holding the glass out to him. "Drink."

Sukuna takes the glass, his fingers brushing against yours briefly, sending a small shiver up his spine. He brings the glass to his lips, taking a few sips, the cool water running down his throat.

He avoids your gaze, his face still set in a scowl, but he can't deny the fact that he does feel a little calmer now.

Then you sighed walking out of the bathroom sitting on the sofa "if you need to throw up hit the toilet"

Sukuna trailed after you, his steps slightly shaky but managing to maintain his trademark swagger. "I don't need you to tell me that" he grumbles, collapsing onto the sofa beside you. He takes a cushion, placing it strategically in his lap.

"I'm not gonna throw up" he insists, though there's a hint of doubt in his voice.

You raise an eyebrow skeptically. "You sure about that?" you say, a hint of amusement in your tone. "You've never been good at holding your alcohol."

You look at him, noticing the way he clenches the cushion in his lap, the tension in his shoulders.

"really,i never saw you acting like this,it's makes you look so stupid-"You were interrupted when Sukuna suddenly threw the pillow,raging, "It's because I fucking love you! don't you understand that?!"

The pillow sails past your face, hitting the wall behind you with a soft thump. Sukuna's shouting startles you, his sudden outburst surprising.

"L-Love…me?" you stutter, unable to hide the shock in your voice. You get up, turning to face him, your mind reeling from his confession.

Sukuna stands, his face flushed, his eyes locked on yours. He looks like a man on the edge, all his usual composure gone, replaced by raw, unfiltered emotion.

"Yes, I… dammit, I love you!" he repeats, his words filled with a desperate ache. "I've loved you for ages, but I… I didn't know how to tell you, how to make you understand…" He steps forward, closing the distance between you, his hands reaching out to grip your shoulders, his fingers digging into your skin.

"And tonight, hearing you say that you could never love me… it hurt. It hurt badly. I can't stand it, I can't stand the thought of you never loving me back, of losing you…" He lets out a shaky breath, his eyes pleading.

The room is filled with silence. You look at him, your heart racing, your mind swirling with a million thoughts. Sukuna, your best friend, the powerful Curse, is confessing his love to you. It's a lot to process.

You reach up a hand, gently cupping his cheek, feeling the heat radiating from his skin. He leans into your touch, a needy sound rumbling deep in his chest.

"I…I don't understand" you murmur, your thumb rubbing soothing circles into his cheek. "I thought… we were just best friends."

Sukuna huffs a bitter laugh, his eyes never leaving yours. "That's what I told myself, too" he admits. "I thought I could keep my feelings hidden, that I could just be your friend, that it would be enough… but it's not. It never was."

He steps even closer, his body now mere inches from yours. He towers over you, his presence overwhelming, but there's a vulnerability in his eyes that you've never seen before.

"You mean everything to me" he whispers, his voice hoarse. "I can't imagine my life without you in it. I don't care if I'm supposed to be a Curse, a fearsome lord… you make me feel human, something I haven't felt in centuries. I want to be with you, no matter what it takes."

Your heart pounds in your chest, your thoughts a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. On one hand, fear, uncertainty, the risk of losing the friendship you'd nurtured for so long. But on the other, there's a flutter of something… hope, happiness, love?

You look at him, taking in his confession, his raw, desperate emotions. A thousand words dance on the tip of your tongue, but what comes out is an uncharacteristic stutter. "I… I don't know what to say…"

"Say you'll give me a chance" he says, his voice low and gravelly. "Say you'll let me prove my love for you. I know I'm not perfect, far from it… but I'll try my damned hardest to make you happy if you just let me."

His grip tightens on your shoulders, his thumbs tracing aimless patterns on your skin.

You chew on your lower lip, the enormity of his words sinking in. It's a lot to take in, a lot to consider.

"And if it doesn't work?" you ask quietly, your voice wavering slightly. "If… if it doesn't work out, what then?"

Sukuna's eyes narrow slightly, a flicker of determination in their depths. "It will work" he says, his tone leaving no room for argument. "I won't accept any alternative. I'll make it work, even if it kills me."

He leans in closer, his face inches from yours. You can feel his warm breath on your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

"Trust me" he murmurs, his voice a soft, velvety whisper. "Please, just trust me."

He cups your face in his hands, his touch surprisingly tender considering the rough, calloused nature of his palms. His thumbs gently stroke your cheeks, an almost reverent gesture.

His eyes search yours, looking for any hint of refusal, any sign that you're about to push him away. But he finds none. Instead, there's a mixture of emotions there—uncertainty, fear, and yes, there it is, a spark of hope.

Sukuna leans down, slowly, his lips hovering just above yours. "Can I… can I kiss you?" he breathes, the question carrying a world of meaning.

You hold your breath, your mind racing. His lips are so close, mere millimeters from yours. You can almost taste the whiskey on his breath.

In that moment, you make your decision. You nod once, a tiny, almost imperceptible movement.

The permission is all Sukuna needs. He closes the final gap between you, capturing your lips in a kiss.

His lips are surprisingly soft, a stark contrast to his usually hard, callous demeanor. The kiss is deep, hungry, a mix of desperation and yearning. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close, his body molding to yours as though you're meant to fit together like two puzzle pieces.

His hands roam over your back, his fingers tracing invisible patterns on your skin, leaving trails of fire in his wake.

The kiss is intense, consuming, and despite the alcohol clouding both of your judgments, neither of you pull away. His tongue demands entry into your mouth, which you willingly allow, the sensation sending shivers down your spine.

His hands tighten on your waist, almost possessively, as though he's afraid you might slip away if he doesn't hold on tight.

He breaks the kiss, coming up for air, his chest heaving against yours. His eyes are darkened, almost feral, as he gazes down at you.

"You taste even better than I imagined" he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin. "How long have I been waiting to do that…"

[casuallyanidiot]

Author author!! More of deer yandere please😞🙏🙏

Yandere deer hybrid who's so eager to start breeding you. It doesn't matter if you can even get pregnant or not because by god he's going to try his hardest.

Continuation to this

Tw. Noncon, dead dove do not eat, kidnapping, yandere, captivity, breeding kink, overstimulation, bone breaking (mentioned), gn pronouns used for reader, MDNI

Ciervus waits until your leg heals to start the whole ordeal. Never mind the fact that he was the one who broke it, he lavishes you with praise and sympathy. He strokes your hair and whispers about how good you're being by staying nice and pliant in the cave he's prepared for you. You're his good little doe, all snuggled and sweet in his nest.

It almost gives him a sort of rush knowing that you were this big bad thing prowling around the woods with death at their heels. Who would guess that you were so fragile and so fuckable? He chuckles to himself as he pushes your face down into a soft bundle of fur and grabs your ankle. He rolls it gently, and he listens with a contemplative hum as you squeak in slight protest and pain.

"Well, it doesn't seem like it hurts much as before," He comments and lets your foot go limp. Despite the progress, he knows that you're never going to be able to walk the same ever again. He hopes you'll heal enough eventually, but it won't get to the point where you can outrun him. That's all he really cares about anyways.

His antlers have grown a fair amount since he last shed them and presented them to you like a prize. He feels them idly while smoothing his other hand down your nude back. He likes the feeling of your shuddering spine beneath his fingers, and he marvels at how quickly the time has passed. Already a couple months spent cuddling with his little doe... it's honestly impressive how he hasn't lost his composure yet.

But there's no more putting it off, little doe.

He hums and wordlessly grabs your thighs before spreading them apart. Your breath hitches, and his grin widens as he sees your twitching little ass and your leaking privates. His chest rises and fall more rapidly, and he'd forgive you if you mistook him for a snarling, drooling predator in that moment.

"Oh look at you..." He breathes out, kneading the sensitive flesh. You try and drag yourself away, but he gently tsks at the pathetic effort. "Now now, no need to be all shy," He teases lightly, and he positions himself right between your shaking legs. He's not totally oblivious despite the fact that he's never been with anyone before. The right of mating is deeply ingrained in his brain: a gift from generations before to ensure that whatever doe he was trying to pump full of babies would be pliant and sweet with pleasure.

His hands find his cock (impossibly long for a human, even impressive by hybrid standards), and his spits in his palm before he begins to pump and tug on the sensitive skin. He smacks your ass, enjoying the way the flesh jiggles, and he hisses in pleasure. You're everything he's ever wanted. Not these insipid little things that run about the woods and waste his time. You're the real thing. He snakes his hand around and coats it in your tears, shuddering at how you sob despite your pride.

Heat coils in his belly with each movement of his wrist, and he throws his head back with a hearty groan. His release is unceremonious, but he knows the main event is yet to begin. Ropes of his cum coat your lower back and entrance, and he relished the sight, the smell of him on you.

" There, hah, now we can get you all nice and ready," He huffs out and doubled over you so his forehead is pressed between your shoulder blades. His antlers graze against your skin, and if you move too much you'd surely be pricked by them. His shuddering, quiet laughs ghost over your skin. His fingers scoop his cum off your warm skin and dips them down to your twitching, dry entrance. He presses kisses to your neck, and he shushes you when he feels you tense.

"No no no, you're fine, you're fine shhhh. Just give me a moment to make you feel good," He murmurs and leans forward to nibble on your earlobe. Fuck, you're clamping down on his fingers. He hears you hiss out a bit in discomfort, and he coos. He gets knuckle deep, his cum acting like a lubricant to help the process as he stretches you out. You whimper and whine, but eventually he curls his digits in just the right spot to get you all loose and gaping.

He teases you with a little bite to your shoulder, and he rears back enough to line himself up and sink his length in inch by agonizing inch.

You were so tight, the fear making you clamp around him in all the right, delicious ways. All these months of watching, waiting salivating over you, and now he's where he's wanted to be. You twitched, rolling your hips underneath him. He wasn't sure about if it was because you were enjoying this or if it was just another pathetic, stupid attempt to leave him. He grips you by the back of your neck, his other hand gripping your hip as he thrusts roughly into you.

The cave was filled with his grunting, your squeals and moans, and the sounds of your bodies slapping together. He pressed kisses all over you, grabbing your face to turn you into an awkward, arched position where he could bully his cock further into your spongy walls and give you sloppy, smiling kisses.

Soon, he groans and dumps a hot load in you, and he feels you relax. You pant and tremble from your own forced orgasm, and he grins through the darkness. He pets your head, and he feels his cock soften in you. There's a sense of relief from the both of you, you for it being over and Ciervus for it happening at all.

He does feel a bit bad, though, as he member twitches back to life. Your eyes widen, and he pins you down before you can struggle. He's far from done with you, little doe.

[mxtxfanatic]

The reoccurring theme of antagonistic characters using the deaths of their loved ones to legitimize their hate for people they already hated and are wholly unrelated to their loved ones' deaths is really an under-discussed one. Moments that stick out to me are how this happens with Madam Mo at the very beginning of the novel, but then we see it repeated almost bar for bar when Jiang Cheng is called in to the emergency conference to answer for Wei Wuxian's liberation of the Qiongqi labor camp, until finally we get a deep-dive into the entitlement behind this idea in the climax that is Guanyin Temple:

On the other hand, Lady Mo, both heartbroken and resentful to the extreme, thought only of the word “death.” Not of her own death, of course. She had no desire to accompany her son. Rather, she thought of the death of every other human being on earth, especially the people in front of her.

—Chapt. 4: Feral III, fanyiyi

Nie MingJue, “You owe them gratitude? Isn’t the QishanWen Sect the ones who caused the YunmengJiang Sect’s annihilation?” Within these few years, Jiang Cheng insisted on working late into the night every day. That day, just as he decided to rest early, he had to rush to Koi Tower overnight because of the thundering news. He’d been suppressing some anger under his fatigue since the beginning. With his natural competitiveness, he was already quite agitated since he had to apologize to other people. When he heard Nie MingJue mention the incident of his sect again, hatred sprouted within him. The hatred was directed at not only everyone who was seated in this room, but also Wei WuXian.

—Chapt. 73: Recklessness, exr

Jiang Cheng replied, “How much has my family given for you? I’m his son. I’m the heir of the Yunmeng Jiang Sect. But all those years, I was never enough next to you. Their love, their dedication, even their life! The lives of my father, mother, older sister, and even Jin ZiXuan! Because of you, all that’s left now is an orphaned Jin Ling!” ... “How much do you owe my family? Shouldn’t I hate you?! Couldn’t I hate you?! What gives you the right to suddenly make me feel like I should be the one that’s sorry?! What gives you the right to make me feel like some fucking clown after all these years?! What the hell am I?! Do I only deserve to be blinded by your glory, by your light?! Shouldn’t I hate you?!”

—Chapter 102: A Hatred for Life Part 5, boat-full-of-lotus-pods

"I don't actually want my death. I don't actually want to be with my loved ones. This isn't about remorse for the dead or honoring their memory. This is about my hatred and being able to hate at anyone I feel like because of it. This is about me and what I feel like the world owes me as compensation for my loved ones' deaths."

[totowlff]

many fade, but i'm still here

➝ you kept your side of the street clean. they will never know what it means.

➝ word count: 2,2k

➝ warnings: mentions of health issues.

➝ author’s note: you can read the part one here.

The young man sitting in front of the reporters looked uncomfortable. Watching him from a corner of the Mercedes motorhome common area, you could tell he wasn’t at ease in that position. However, he needed to get used to the flashes, the clicks, and especially the attention directed at him.

After all, Andrea Kimi Antonelli was now a Formula 1 driver.

— Kimi, how do you feel being officially a Mercedes driver? — a journalist asked.

— It’s an incredible feeling to be announced as a Mercedes driver alongside George in 2025 — the young man replied in a measured tone — It’s a dream I’ve had since I was little, and even though I’m still learning a lot, I feel ready for this opportunity.

“Of course you do”, you thought to yourself, crossing your arms over your chest. The tests with Kimi had been numerous, with various types of single-seaters, all to make sure of what you had known since the day you first saw him in Lonato del Garda, back in 2018.

— I want to thank the team for the support they've given me in my career so far and for the faith they’ve shown in me — the young man added, scanning the crowd of people present. His eyes finally landed on you — If it wasn’t for the trust Y/N and Toto placed in me, I wouldn’t be here, living this dream.

Your lips curled into a smile as you nodded in acknowledgment of the new driver’s words. Handing him over to Mercedes had been a desperate move on your part, made in the face of Ferrari’s stunning refusal to bring Kimi onboard, contradicting everything discussed in the previous meetings before his visit to Maranello.

However, you couldn’t live with yourself knowing you had crushed the dreams of such a talented boy like Kimi. He deserved that chance, and if you couldn’t give it to him, let Mercedes be the team to do so.

— Toto, what are your impressions of this new duo, which we could say is the first composed of athletes from the Mercedes academy? — a blonde woman asked.

— Our new pairing is perfect to open the next chapter of our history. It’s also proof of the strength of our junior driver program and our belief in homegrown talent — the team principal replied, turning to the young man next to him with a smile — Kimi has consistently demonstrated the talent and speed necessary to compete at a high level in our sport.

Placing a hand on the driver’s shoulder, you noticed there was a certain pride in Toto’s voice, as well as in his expression. And, in a way, it was justified, considering all the energy and resources invested in Kimi’s development. Toto was seeing, right there in that room, that he had made the right choice once again.

— George, could you share your thoughts on your new teammate? — an older journalist asked, hand raised — What can we expect from this partnership?

— I’m excited to have him as my teammate. His results in junior competitions are impressive, and his promotion is completely deserved — the Brit responded — He’s a fantastic young talent and has also been part of our driver academy. I hope I can use my own experience to help him in this step into Formula 1.

“I have no doubt you will”, you thought, searching for Kimi with your eyes. It was impossible not to notice how anxious he seemed. His attention shifted between the two men beside him and the beaded bracelet on his wrist, almost tiny compared to the team watch. It was easy to forget that he was just an 18-year-old boy — newly turned 18, in fact — taking his first steps into adulthood.

The press conference continued smoothly, with the occasional light-hearted comment from Toto, clearly trying to help Kimi relax in front of all those people. But you knew it wasn’t easy, even for someone older and more seasoned in these environments, like yourself.

When Bradley wrapped up the press conference, you noticed Kimi exhale in relief, as if trying to release all the tension. As the journalists left the motorhome, you approached the young man, who was listening attentively to Toto.

— Nice answers, kid — you said, placing a hand on his shoulder. When he realized it was you, he smiled.

— Did I do well?

— Really well. A true Mercedes driver.

A little chuckle escaped his lips.

— I’m glad you liked it, Mrs. Wolff — Kimi replied, making your cheeks warm up.

— For you, it’s Y/N, okay? No ‘Mrs. Wolff’.

— Is there something wrong with my last name, Mrs. Wolff? — Toto asked, raising an eyebrow.

— No, I just think he should call me the same as always.

— Kimi’s just being respectful to my wife — he retorted, moving closer to you and slipping a hand around your waist.

It was still surreal to you. The night after the unexpected meeting you’d had at the hotel bar, you two had gone out for dinner. But, unlike what you had expected, Toto had turned the supposed negotiation for a position in the driver academy management into something more intimate and personal. The exchanged glances and suggestive comments had eventually turned into a kiss at the end of the night, as well as an invitation for another dinner, this time in Monaco.

It didn’t take long before you ended up in his bed, as well as on the Mercedes payroll. Maurizio had tried, but Toto had already convinced you to leave Ferrari behind and dive headfirst into his project, both for the young drivers and for your lives together.

The marriage was a natural step, taking place in an intimate ceremony in Sardinia two years later. Before Toto and a dozen guests, you became Y/N Wolff to the world. But that didn’t mean you had stopped being responsible for the boys and girls in the junior categories.

— Before that, I’m the development advisor for this team’s young drivers.

— Well, it was more or less at the same time — Toto muttered, making you shake your head.

— You’re not helping, Torger.

— Damn — he replied, causing everyone around to burst into laughter.

The conversation went on for a few more minutes before Bradley invited the four of you to head up to the terrace of the motorhome to take some more pictures and record a few interviews for the company’s official channels. However, while Toto was being photographed talking to Kimi, you felt your phone vibrate.

"Your results are available," read the subject of the email you had just received.

Pressing your lips together, you unlocked your phone and clicked on the envelope icon on the screen. There was a strange tension building in your shoulders, a sense of anticipation you knew you shouldn’t have, especially considering what the tests you’d taken were about.

The discomfort you had been feeling over the last few weeks had led you to schedule an appointment with your general practitioner before leaving for Monza. It seemed to be just a severe cold, likely due to the sudden temperature changes during your travels. However, he had you take some basic blood tests to ensure there was nothing wrong.

As you read through the sequence of complicated names, "normal levels" and "negative," one title made you roll your eyes. "Why a pregnancy test?", you wondered as you scrolled down. It was obvious that would never happen — the malformation in your uterus, discovered when you were a teenager, had ended any possibility of you having your own family.

Until a single underlined word made your heart skip.

You felt the blood drain from your head, leaving only the echo of your pulse pounding in your ears. Air seemed not to reach your lungs, no matter how hard you tried to breathe. Your legs felt weak, as did the rest of your body.

— Y/N! — you heard someone shout before everything went dark.

When you opened your eyes again, there was no sun or clouds above you, only a gray ceiling and a fluorescent light. On your left side, a man in a white coat, apparently a circuit doctor, was checking your blood pressure with a serious expression, while someone outside your line of sight was stroking your head.

— Where... I — you mumbled, trying to get your bearings.

— I’m here, my love, I’m here — Toto said, leaning in to look at you. His eyes were filled with concern.

You blinked a few times as your husband murmured something you didn’t pay attention to. The words you had read on your phone’s screen were burned into your mind, echoing back and forth in your head.

The doctor removed the blood pressure cuff and slung it around his neck.

— It seems to be due to the heat — he said, looking first at the team principal and then at you — It’s important to stay hydrated and avoid being outside during the hottest hours.

You opened your mouth to respond, but Toto was quicker.

— Yes, we’ll be more careful about that, won’t we, my love?

You couldn’t speak. You just nodded, still a bit dazed. The doctor also recommended getting you something to eat to help you recover, which Toto assured would be done right away.

After the doctor left the room, you stared at the ceiling for several long seconds in silence, trying to process everything that had just happened. Sitting beside you, your husband brushed a strand of hair away from your face, his worry still evident.

— Are you feeling better? — Toto asked softly.

— Yes — you replied — Did I faint?

He nodded.

— Everyone was scared. No one realized you weren’t feeling well before — the team principal said — If it hadn’t been for Rosa, you might’ve hit your head on the ground, and it could’ve been much worse, but the doctor said it was the heat...

Toto’s words were lost in the whirlwind of thoughts swirling in your head. Seeing him talk about what had happened, the care he was taking with the situation, filled your chest with something warm and familiar.

— It wasn’t the heat — you murmured.

— What? But the doctor said...

— Toto, I got the results from those tests I took on Monday.

He blinked, processing the information for a few seconds.

— Is it serious?

You smiled gently.

— We’ll find out in nine months.

The concern on Toto’s face turned to shock. His mouth dropped open, and he hesitated for a few moments before asking the question you had been waiting so long to answer.

— Are you... Pregnant?

— Yes — you finally said, with tears streaming down your temples.

A disbelieving laugh escaped his lips, his brown eyes shining with emotion.

— But how? You told me about your malformation, the nearly zero chance of conceiving naturally, the whole issue with treatment and risk...

— I know, I know, but I did the test and... Oh my God — you paused, trying to take in the enormity of the moment. After years of dreaming about something you could never have, trying to heal that pain with your work in junior categories, you were going to fulfill the desire that had so often brought you to tears before sleep.

— We’re going to have a baby, Y/N — Toto said, as if he knew the affirmation that was repeating itself in your mind.

Nodding, you placed your hands on your husband’s face and pulled him into a sweet kiss, just like everything that was about to come into your lives. A life of diapers, toys, and a love you had never stopped wishing for, not even for a second.

You were still hugging when you heard a knock on the door. After being invited in, a pair of familiar brown eyes peeked through the gap.

— Toto — Kimi said quietly. When the team principal looked at him, the young man hesitated — Are you crying? Did something happen? Is Y/N okay?

You smiled, sitting up slowly on the sofa.

— Yes, I’m fine — you replied, wiping your nose, sniffling.

— You’re both crying — he noted.

— It’s just that we got some news — Toto began, sitting beside you.

You noticed Kimi’s expression shift to something resembling concern, his lips pressed into a thin line.

— And what is it?

You and Toto exchanged glances with a shadow of a smile on your lips.

— Well, we weren’t supposed to say anything just yet, but I guess it’s okay if it’s you...

Kimi moved closer and crouched in front of you, resting an arm on the side of the sofa.

— Is it bad?

— No, dear, it’s not — you replied, looking to the team principal, giving him a cue to continue.

— It’s just that Y/N is expecting a baby.

His eyes widened.

— Sei serio? — he asked in Italian.

Nodding, you confirmed the news.

— Cazzo, that’s amazing! — Kimi exclaimed, breaking into a wide grin before pulling you into a tight hug.

— No swearing, Kimi — you said, pulling away from him — You know you can’t say things like that, especially now.

— Sorry, mamma — he replied playfully. Your nurturing attitude toward the junior drivers had never gone unnoticed by them. Your care and attention, even off the track, had made you a safe harbor, not to mention a maternal figure. It wasn’t unusual for one of them to be at your house, whether for a quick visit or a weekend before competing at a nearby track.

— She’s right, Kimi, you need to watch your language. You have to be a good example for the younger ones — Toto said, placing a hand on your belly — Especially now.

— I will, you can count on it — the young man replied, with the enthusiasm of someone who had just found out he was going to have a younger sibling.

And you couldn’t wait to see him embrace that role.

[aparticularbandit]

CALLED IT.

...and by it I mean the assumption that Agatha sacrificed Nicholas for the Darkhold.

I still don't think that's necessarily true - I think it's a rumor and assumption and still think she gained the Darkhold at the end of her first journey along the Road - but I feel validated by that.

Not surprised that Sharon is dead.

SUPER LOVED Agatha's look in that house. So gorgeous.

Kathryn's facial expression shift in that shot when she heard the baby cry was a MASTER CLASS in acting, goodness.

I think they're setting groundwork for Teen to be Nicholas - he's got a sigil on him to keep witches from finding him (which Agatha could have put on Nicholas before whatever happened to him) and Jennifer mentioned that Agatha might not even know what he looks like - but I still think he's Billy. I think it's a red herring.

However.

If he ends up being Nicholas, I won't be disappointed, and I hope no one else is either!

Also LOVED the moment where Agatha immediately kept him from drinking. She IS protecting him and she IS channeling/projecting her feelings about Nicholas to him (I'm so happy about this) and like. I'm excited to see that relationship develop!

Also loving the confirmation of what Agatha said in WandaVision - she takes power from the undeserving, and she repeats that here in a roundabout way: she never went after Jennifer's power because Jennifer was doing something important with it. She was deserving of her power. Which lines up with the Agatha we already know.

Excited to see Rio show up again next week (probably)!

[justme315]

New family 1/?

! Warning !

swearing, angst, fear, step-family, g/t family, abuse, mention of abusive giants, gigantophobia, mention of the character being religious, sickness

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

I was fucked.

I'm sorry for using that kinda language but I really was. You see, my whole life has been destroyed by thoese damn giants.

Sorry, I don't think I introduced myself yet, I'm Zack.

Me and my mom were always a team. After my dad has passed away when i was 6 she was the only person important to me. It was basically us two against the whole world.

Something that might also be important for you to understand my story is the fact that we live in a world full of humans (like my and my mom) and giants. Giants are.. humanoid 60-ish feet tall creatures. Easily to say - their dangerous. The government rightfully understood the danger and the fear of us humans and created 'human-only' zones, cities, countries even. There were also a few 'giant-only' zones, but I'm not really sure why. It's not like the giants would fear us. Most of the places thoese enourmous beasts live are simply 'mixed-zones', places where both humans and giants can live. Thank God that me and my mom always lived in a 'human-only' zone. I was always skeptical and yeah, terrified of giants.

My mom was different though. Maybe she was just dumb (sorry for saying that mama) but she just couldn't sense danger. She worked in a company that required her to sometimes travel to 'mixed-zones' or 'mixed-cities'. I was always opposed to that but she.. enjoyed it. She even said that she made some giant "friends". I never believed in their honesty though.

But what changed my life once and for all, had happened when I was just 16. Well, going on 17 already, but yeah, still 16.

I never ever once questioned my mom's romantic life after my dad has passed away. She just.. never acted like she wanted to start a new relationship. And I was very okay with that.

But one unfortunate day, just after she came home from one of her business trips she told me that she has got a boyfriend.

That was weried to know, I mean c'mon, picturing your mom having a crush, dating, falling in love etc. is just.. weried and kinda disgusting if you ask me.

Of course, I questioned her and soon I reaveled her secret.

"Zack, I have been dating him for a little over a year. I was just scared of how you might react. But now, I must tell you since.. he proposed."

That felt like I was stabbed straight into the heart. How could she have kept having a boyfriend a secret from me for so long? Why would she? Being lied to by her felt horrible. I thought we were a team - we always told echother everything. But I guess I was wrong.

Really soon I found out that my mom's boyfriends (and now fiances) name is Andrew, that he was just slightly older than her and had two sons about my age, he was also a widower, and according to my mom, we had much in common.

I really couldn't understand why my mom would keep her boyfriend a secret. Untill she revealed she wanted for us to move in with him and his sons. I mean, she had a lot of planing to do, as she was soon to get married again, so that was kinda understandable. I wasn't opposed to moving into a new home, but changed my mind really quickly when my mom reaveled that our new home would be in a mixed-city. I mean, I was never even in that kind of a city, never even seen a giant in real life and was hella terrified of them! She should've understood me. Before she 'fell in love' she always has.

I asked her a milion times if Andrew and his sons can't just move in with us but she always found some excuse. Once, our house was too small, then his older son didn't want to switch universities, another time Andrew was scared of loosing the job. It was always a stupid excuse. Untill she finally reaveled the truth.

You see, Andrew, my mom's husband-to-be was a giant. And so were his sons.

To say that I was mad and scared was an understatement. I felt lied to. I felt like I was being dragged into something I didn't want to be a part of. I, understandably, questioned the honesty of my moms relationship, which angered her the most. I was angry with my mom for over two weeks after finding out about the size of my soon to be step-family and barely spoke with her. I couldn't be away from her for long though and forgave her, but in my heart I still had plenty of doubts.

My friends didn't help ease my fear. I told my best buddies at school and the stories they have told me only made me more afraid and suspicious of the said Andrew and all giants at that point.

"Don't y'all remember Joseph from middle school? He moved to a mixed-city with his parents. He was stepped on by a giant and died!"

"That's nothing compered to what happened to Amy. A quick death is better than being tortured. She is my cousin. She moved to a mixed-zone because she wanted to go to a better collage. One of her giant male classmates kidnaped her and done horrifying things to her. Once she was found she had missing limbs, many scars.. She was mentally, physically and sexually abused by him for months, untill they found the giant. And he barely got any jail time for that! She's still in mental health hospital!"

"My dads best friend Thomas was freaking eaten alive!"

Yeah, I think 3 stories is enough to give you the idea of how freaking terrified I was of the said 'step-family'. Some might say I am a specist (a person that discriminates based on the species (giant and human)) but I wouldn't agree. I don't really think that a human can be a specist becouse we are in the more vaunurable position. Also, I don't hate giants becouse of their size. I hate and fear them because of how brutal and cruel they are towards humans. Maybe a giantophobe would be a more appropriate term for me.

That day was the worst day in my entire life. And it's really hard to beat the day my dad had passed away.

We sold the house. We were at the airport. All ready to go to a mixed-city, over the wall that the government made.

Mom was all smiley and happy, her nose never leaving her phone.

"Andrew texted me that he and his boys are at their side of the barrier already, waiting for us. They can't wait to meet you!"

Right, didn't I mention that they all knew echother, but me?

"I just can't wait to show you the city and our new home!"

I was standing there quiet. No matter how many times I told my mom that i don't agree with her choice of dating a giant or for the fact that I didn't want to move away into a mixed-city she would always say that I will change my mind once I overcome my fear. Hell, I would.

I held my bag closely, trying to hold onto whatever I have not to lose my composure. I was terrified and angry, sure, but showing thoese giants from the start that they have some power over me, even though it was obvious, wasn't something I would do. At last, if I could hide my emotions.

Just a few minutes before our flight, a flight in the opposite direction landed. I saw all those humans, coming back from the mixed-city, most of them seem, okay. That made me confused and curious. Would it really be all that bad?

Untill I saw a girl, probably my age, on a wheelchair. I mean, there is nothing wrong with disabled people, don't get me wrong, but she was crying so she easily got everyone's attention. A woman run up to her.

"Mom!" The girl sobbed, opening her arms to hug her mother. The woman tried calming the girl down but she just kept crying and screaming "It was just supposed to be a student exchange program!! This scary giant crushed my legs!"

The girls voice echoed in my head. It was different to hear stories of distant people, but to see someone hurt by thoese monsters in front of my own eyes was completely different.

Even my mom lowered her phone and looked at the girl with pity in her eyes. I prayed to the Lord to open her eyes and return home safely with me.

"Poor girl" she signed "That must have been a.. horrible accident".

I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

"Accident?" I looked at my mom angrily, finally letting my emotions out "A giant crushed her legs".

"Honey, I'm sure they didn't mean to.." she looked at me, somewhat shocked at my defensiveness. I shouldn't have expected her to understand. She just simply couldn't sense danger. And that could get both of us killed.

"Her legs were crushed by a giant, mom!" I raised my voice, even so slightly as I couldn't believe how blinded she was by her feelings.

"Zack, calm yourself down" she looked at me more strictly now, as I was getting other peoples attention. I couldn't bare the thought of how stupid this all was. I just wanted to be home. Or anywhere at that point. Anywhere but in a spece where giants were allowed.

"You-" I began to speak.

"The flight 16-399Bhc** is preparing to take off. We ask all the passengers to board the plane within 5 minutes. Thank you and have a good flight" said a voice from the speaker.

"That's our flight!" My mom cheered up and grabbed my arm, pulling me as she ran to the plane.

She was so excited it made me feel like I was gonna puke.

Don't get me wrong, I always loved planes but this time I felt uneasy. My whole body was shaking ever so slightly, I felt like I was about to puke, I swear I heard my heart pumping blood, my head was spinning..

That can easily be called my worst ever flight.

After we landed I need a good 15 minutes in the bathroom to regain my composure.

"Honey, are you alright?" I heard my mom knocking "Are you sick?"

"I'm fine mama, I'll be okay" I mumbled, though I didn't feel like I was going to be okay for at last next few hours. I was also convinced my life was about to end so why bother worrying my mom. But before I cross the barrier of the airport, I didn't have to see or interact with any giants. Maybe me feeling sick was actually a gift from God to give me more time to get ready for what was about to come? As I was almost ready to go I hear my mom speaking:

"Honey, are you sure? I texted Andrew and he and Ethan are worried sick. They can drive us to a hospital"

And then I got sick again at the mention of the giants.

Oh, you might not know who is who. Andrew is my moms 45 year old husband-to-be, but I'm sure I have spoke about him already. Ethan is his older son, he was 21 back then. His younger son - Ryan - was 17.

After, what appeared to me as a minute and to my mom as an hour I finally could exit the bathroom.

My mom rushed me, saying that the boys have been waiting for us long enough. I was feeling less and less okay. I couldn't keep my emotionless demeanor. My eyes felt heavy, my heartbeat fasten as well as my breathing, my legs were shaky and I was not able to say even one word.

As I saw the enourmous glass wall behind which were a ton of giants, I felt like I was going to faint.

Or simply turn around and run.

My mom stopped in her trucks and looked at her phone. After maybe three seconds of reading what I supposed was a message form Andrew she looked into the direction of 3 giant men waiting and her eyes started to freaking sparkle and her smile grew.

She then looked at me and pointed in the direction of thoese giants, who weren't looking at us, thank God.

"That's Andrew! And Ethan and Ryan!" She said with an excited expression.

Andrew was surprisingly the shortest of the group. He had brown hair that were turning grey, a short beard, thick glasses, a blue sweater and more elegant pants. He was overall a handsome middle-aged dude, if it wasn't for the fact he was freaking enormous.

Ethan was talking with him. He had fluffy brown hair and was slightly taller than his dad. He had a few freckles and dimples on his cheeks, his smile was truthfully welcoming. His white hoodie also looked very comfy.

The tallest one was the youngest - Ryan. He had black, short hair, a pierced ear and stylist clothes. If he would have been a human, he looked like one of the popular kids that you always look up to. I really liked the belt he had, same with the rings on his fingers.

All three giants had the same eye color - hazel.

My mom grabbed me again and pulled me into the direction of the glass wall that was the last thing keeping me outside of the reach of giants. She looked so happy to see them that it was hard to recognize her. She only ever smiled at me like that before.

Soon enough, we were close to the exit of my comfort zone. My fear only grew as we were closer to the giants. It was still probably about 20 feet between us and the door when Andrews eyes rested on us. I felt the enourmous gaze and felt like I was stung. Soon both his sons eyes locked on me and my mom. She realized quickly and slowed down with the running. She then waved at them. Andrew and Ethan waved back. Ryan stood there, looking maybe a little conflicted but surely also kinda annoyed.

At that point I could feel the blood boiling in my veins. My heart ached. As well did my head. My legs were shaky. I felt like I couldn't catch my breath correctly.

If you think you're not socially awkward, three giants looking down at you with their enourmous eyes, almost scanning you as if you were an insect would change your mind right away. And if you are socially awkward like me? Well, you would feel as if you were just about to die.

My mom rushed me again, ready to exit the safe space, that only allowed humans. I walked behind her, but I wasn't as excited or as fast. Partly, becouse I wanted to be out of the giants reach for as long as I could and partly becouse I was feeling worse and worse.

To be honest, I don't know what was making me feel bad. Maybe it was all the emotion, fear, anger and all, maybe it was my mental health killing me and shouting at me that danger was close, maybe it was the horrible flight, maybe it was my body being sick. I don't know.

What I do know is, each step I took, the more powerless I felt. My legs felt to weak to hold my bodyweight.

My mom was already by the exit door when she turned around to rush me again. I was maybe 7 feet behind her, still surrounded by the enourmous gazes of those three giants, two of which were smiling. Their smiles made me sick in my stomache, but Ryan who was the only one not smiling made me feel ever worse somehow.

I totally expected my mom to yell at me to hurry up, based on how excited she seem but she just stared at me for a secound with wide worried eyes and then returned to me.

"Are you okay honey? You don't seem too good"

I wanted to answer her but it came out as a soft yelp. I thought I was going to puke again.

Faces of the giants became more serious and worried. I didn't like that expression either, to be honest.

I looked back at mom as she reached out to me and raised her hand to my shoulder for comfort probably.

"Are you scared Zack? Is that it? Because if it is, I assure you, they won't hurt us. Ever." She spoke in a soft, quiet voice. Her expression didn't show anger but she looked more understanding than any other moment of the past few weeks. She spoke with such confidence I could have believed her.

Well, I maybe even would have if I didn't faint.

Because just a moment after she spoke my vision went black and my body felt weak. The last think I remember before fainting were thoese scary gazes and my mom yelling:

"Zack!"

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

Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed the 1st part!

[daydreamerwoah]

Love Through It All (Alternate Ending - Different Character Death)

tw: mentions of cheating, mentions of divorce; hurt; angst; anger; sadness; arguing; crying; mentions of therapy/counseling; violence; guns; injury; main character death; a violent Ghost

Please read Part 1 for my author notes for the beginning of this story if this is your first time here.

Had someone ask for a different alternate ending where another character dies so here it is :)

*This picks up from part 13 in italics*

The moment the video stopped, you locked eyes with Simon. Your puffy eyes made him internally broken, but his facial expression hadn't changed, and you didn't know if he was upset that you had gotten revenge for cheating on you... or if it was something else. You wanted to say that it meant nothing. That you were drunk and fucking mad at him... but you couldn't say shit with the tape still over your mouth.

"I have to say, she sounds.. so damn good. Doesn't she?" Jax teased as he asked everyone in the room. Even with Andrei not responding, since he was the one who had his tongue on you, Jax smiled at Simon like he had won or something, "How does it feel?" He walked and stood behind Simon as he leaned down so his face was almost next to his, looking at you, "Tell her." He demanded.

Simon's eyes never strayed away from yours as you continued to cry. The look on his face hadn't really changed, but his eyes told you exactly how he felt. The regret that ran through his soul.... he wished he could been a better man; a better husband. You didn't deserve any of this.. yet you stayed. You had wanted to work on your marriage even after the ugly truth came out. It was his fault, and he would forever kill himself over it. He would be grateful if you ever forgave him, promising to give you the entire world and more after he so much tore yours apart by cheating.

"I love you," he lowly said, making you cry even more. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart... for everythin'."

"Satisfying, isn't it?.. Finally realizing your mistakes?"

Simon finally tore his eyes away from you and looked at Jax, "Let her go."

He paused, acting as if he was thinking about something, "I thought about it," he teased, "but see... I can't do that. She's knows far too much... much more than our girl Williams," he joked - a terrible one that made both you and Simon shoot him the deadliest glare.

Jax stood up straight and walked over to you, cutting the ropes that freed you from the chair and snatching off the duct tape on your mouth. For a slight second, you almost thought he was going to let you go before he yanked you up by your hair to stand. A whimper left your mouth as the pain ran through you.

"Let her go," Simon told him again.

He chuckled deeply, "We're just getting started."

Suddenly, loud popping noises sounded from the other side of the door, making you jump. Jax - in a panic - swiftly snaked his arm around your neck in a headlock position, pulling you close to him as Andrei and the other guards rushed out of the door to go see what had happened. More gunshots rang out, almost deafening your ears. Simon continued to look at you, the chaos not even phasing him. At least on the outside... on the inside, he was worried. Half secretly thanking whatever god there was that Johnny saw the damn text, but half nervous about whose shots were going off.

Then there was an eerie silence that loomed over the room before heavy footsteps walked closer to the open door. There was more than one set, and you almost began to panic at who was going to walk in there until you saw Simon's friends.

"Let her go," Price commanded, his weapon pointed to Jax.

A menacing chuckle left Jax's mouth, "I will shoot her," he said, pushing the barrel of the gun against your temple, making you whimper.

"Let my wife go Jax," Simon said, making the man narrow his eyes at him.

"No," he growled, "You're going to suffer just like we did! All of you! I will kill every single one of you!"

"Then let's talk 'bout it," Johnny chimed in.

Jax threw his head back a little as he laughed, "Talk about it?.. we're done talking. Your nation should have talked about it four years ago! But now..... now you will pay," he quickly glanced at you, holding that evil smirk as always. He then pointed the gun at his own temple, throwing off the team.

It was hard for any of them to take a shot at him as he swayed you and his body in sporadic moments. Now, 141 were excellent soldiers; the best of the best, but they weren't going to risk taking a shot only for it to hit you instead of the target.

"Don't have a shot Cap," Kyle whispered.

"If you shoot me, she will die," Jax said as he leaned his head to be side by side with yours, "Your choice.... Cap'n."

Another beat went by as he continued to sway you so a shot couldn't be made. Simon and you looked at each other the entire time as he tried to free himself over and over again. But it was no use. He wanted to hold you; to take you away from there. Instead he felt his eyes water slightly and nervousness.

They all continued to try and get the man to lower his weapon, but the more they talked, the more aggravated he got. And the more he spoke, the more they realized who was behind all of it.

Makarov.

That alone made them even more worried.

You even begged him to let you go, but he shouted for you to shut the fuck up, making the men tighten their grips on their guns. He was getting tired of talking.

"Say goodbye to your wife..... Lieutenant" he teased as his arm wrapped harder around your neck.

Time slowed down. It was like you could feel Jax’s energy as his finger started to pull the trigger, and you suddenly felt……… free.

"I love you," you said to your husband before closing your eyes.

"No no no-" Simon barked before a single shot rang out in the room.

It was the last thing you heard. The last thing Simon said before all you saw was darkness. Jax had pulled the trigger, making the gun go off, piercing his temple. Because his head was aligned beside yours, the bullet wasted no time going straight through your head as well, instantly killing you both.

"NO!" Simon shouted as Price and Johnny rushed over to the fallen bodies of you and Jax while Kyle cut away at the ropes that freed Simon from the restraints.

The second he was able to stand up, he leaped out of the chair and all but pushed the other two men out of the way to kneel on the ground, hovering over your limp body.

"Wake up, sweetheart. Wake up. Wake up," he said as he checked for a pulse. Even though Johnny had already done that, he did it again. When he didn't find one, he should have stopped there; should have let you go. But no, he began pressing on your chest with his hands in an attempt to do CPR as if it was going to revive you somehow.

"Ghost," Johnny tried stopping him, but he wouldn't listen.

John tried pulling him away, "Simon-"

"No! She's not dead," he continued to do CPR on you. The lone tears that began to fall as he looked down at your lifeless body caused the men to look at each other in true sadness. They wanted to stop him, but even they felt the pain flow through their hearts at seeing you lay there on the cold floor.

“Please, god no. No,” Simon whispered when he finally gave up, pulling your body into his chest as he hugged you tightly, “I’m sorry. I’m so fuckin sorry, love.” He continued to hug you, thinking for some reason that hugging you would keep your body warm and safe, even in death.

Eventually, when the medics and police came, it was a whirlwind of chaos that engulfed everything from the prostitution ring upstairs to the crime scene in the basement. As your body was placed in the black bag and wheeled outside, Simon followed the coroners all the way until they loaded it into the back of the van. It was then that Simon felt like he could take a long and painful deep breath that still struggled to come out. It was like he had been punched in the lung with an iron fist.

"L.T.," Johnny said as he walked up to him, making him finally tear his eyes away from the van, "M'sorry."

He didn't say anything back as he looked at his comrade. He didn't even know if he could talk at that point. The only thing he could do was stare at the sergeant for a moment before giving a quick nod and walking off, leaving his friend behind looking at him with sorrowful eyes.

******************************************************

"How's your week going, Lieutenant?" the chaplain asked Simon.

He softly nodded as he rubbed his hands on his jeans, "Fine."

Fine.

It was the same word he used in almost every session he attended since your death. He knew it was going to be a requirement that he had to attend before he could go on any mission... especially one that involved finding Andrei - who escaped during the incident -, Makarov, or whoever else was involved. But it still didn't make it any easier. He was nothing of fine.

The night after the incident, he went home... home to the apartment, and he drank half a bottle of bourbon before he couldn't take it anymore; he trashed the entire fucking place. He was lucky the neighbors hadn't called the police on him. He was so amped up yet so exhausted that he passed out on the couch, only to wake up and see the damn mess he had made the next morning.

When Kyle came over to check on him that evening, he was beyond embarrassed at the state the place was in, but Kyle - just like the rest of 141 - knew he needed time to heal. So he helped him clean up everything before deciding he'd stay the night just to keep his friend company. The same cycle continued as Price, Johnny, and even Ava and her husband checked on him during the next month or so.

But when he eventually got cleared to head back to work after a few more months, Simon was out for pure blood. Blood that was meant for Andrei.

"Ready?" Price yelled, asking the team as they geared up to land in the drop zone of their next mission.

While Kyle and Johnny responded, Simon only nodded, focused on everything around him. They had been tracking intel for a couple of weeks before Laswell informed them they had a location on Andrei. And it was finally time to capture him.

The skilled soldiers descended onto the ground, their guns drawn as they made their way carefully into the building. One by one, guards were taken down silently, a few getting stabbed in their throats as Simon used his knives for more intimate kills.

But when they busted through the door, finding Andrei shocked and off guard, Simon couldn't help but feel a rush flow through him. His fingers tingled slightly, his heartbeat somewhat calmed down but sped up at the same time, and his feet moved faster than his mind could comprehend before he yanked Andrei up to his feet.

An evil smirk settled on his lips behind his hard-shell skull mask as his eyes narrowed at the shaken man, "Remember me?"

The look on Andrei's face was the complete opposite of what he had just half a year prior. That nonchalant look, the confidence like he won a prize cause he had been with you sexually, was all replaced with fear. Simon couldn't help but remember the video - that was now destroyed because he didn't want anyone to see his wife that way - and he felt a deep chuckle escape his throat.

"Tell me again.. how good did my wife sound?" he said in the most menacing tone that even 141 had never heard him sound like.

Andrei gulped, his eyes widening before Simon sent a forceful punch to his face, instantly knocking him out. The loud crunch of his jaw snapping was heard in the quiet room as his body went limp and fell to the ground.

************************************************************************

"Where's Makarov?" Price asked Andrei for the second time.

141 had taken Andrei to an unknown location - a building that was used to keep prisoners before they were taken by the CIA or other agencies. Andrei had been tied up the same way Simon was the night you died, and fuck was he enjoying it more than he should. The amount of punches that landed on Andrei's face from his fists would have had anyone else squirming at the sight. But none of the guys flinched when another cracking sound echoed in the room.

Simon sometimes wished he didn't have to be this way; violent. No doubt he had killed many men in his career, but it was always work. A quick shot from his sniper, a knife to the chest of an enemy. But this?.... this was different. Every time he punched him, he would see your dead body, the night he asked you to marry him, the tearful eyes from when you told him you wanted a divorce, the moment you told him you loved him before Jax pulled the trigger... all of it.

"He asked you a question," his deep voice grumbled as he leaned over to be face-to-face with Andrei.

His face was bloodied and bruised to the point that his eyes barely could open, and his lips were beyond swollen. But even then, he tried to smirk up at the men, "You might as well kill me. Nothing I say will get you closer to Makarov," he coughed, a little blood spilling from his mouth. Simon growled before hitting him once again in the nose. It had broken after the first punch, but he didn't give a shit.

After they all knew Andrei probably wouldn't say anything else, Simon left out of the room, pulling his bloodied skeleton gloves off his hands as he walked outside. He pulled out a box of cigarettes, taking one of them out, along with the lighter. He swore he would stop smoking a long time ago, and for a while, he did. For five years of your marriage, he hadn't smoked once. But he couldn't help but pick the habit back up after your death.

As he smoked, he glanced at the wedding ring on his finger. He refused to ever take it off. It was one of the many things that he kept to remind himself of you; of your love. He knew he would never love anyone again the way he did with you, and in that moment the only thing he cared about was avenging your death.

I thought I teared up on Simon's death in that other alternate ending but I think this one hurt a little bit more. Let me know what you all think about this ending :)

Taglist: @kalypsoox @fruitymoonbeams-blogz @kylies-love-letter @xrosegoldwolfx @linaaaaa654 @jessicab1991 @darkravenqueen98 @yazyazali @thychuvaluswife @chloeforde @cownini @ssc7514

[flutterbyoz]

It's 2024 and still the Rick/Jessie discourse is still making an appearance 🙄

It's something that seems to pop up every now and again and just becomes another excuse for people to voice their dislike for Michonne and Richonne. I get everyone has their own opinion, though many of these opinions have little to no evidence to back them up, but let's just make one thing clear, Rick loves Michonne. He loved her when he met Jessie, he loved her when Jessie cut his hair, he loved her when he and Jessie shared that awkward garage kiss and when he chopped off Jessie's hand. He loved Michonne then and he loves her now, more than life itself. Had Jessie lived he still would have fallen in love and married Michonne.

Some people like to invalidate Richonne anyway they can, even grasping onto crumbs like Jessie, but in the end none of it matters because Jessie was never supposed to be anything more than a plot device, all she did was delay the inevitable. The believability of Rick having feelings for her was dashed pretty quickly given the heart eyes he gave Michonne every time he saw her and I'm sorry but no one can compete against Andy and Danai in the chemistry department.

If you can't see the electric chemistry between Rick and Michonne/Andy and Danai then I do feel a little for you because you're missing out on experiencing what I believe is the best love story to have ever graced the screen.

I do sometimes wonder if I'm watching the same show because the way some people interpret storylines and character interactions can be so polar opposite that it makes me think that they must just be purposefully ignoring the facts just to make it fit their opinion. I'm all for differing opinions but when the facts go completely against those opinions and clearly prove them wrong then it's not so much someone giving an opinion as them just saying whatever just to arouse a response. And yes I know I'm feeding into that with this post but I just needed to say it and sadly I think we all know the reason for most of this dislike and hate towards Michonne and Richonne.

Michonne is not Rick's second choice, she's not his third choice, she's not someone he got with just for the physical side of a relationship or because Jessie and Lori died. Michonne is his first, last and forever choice, the love of his life, the mother of his children, the woman he'd kill and die for, she is his entire world. This has been confirmed multiple times throughout TWD and TOWL, there are no ifs or buts about it, all of this is canon and fact and ignoring it doesn't make it any less true. I always have this thought that if you mentioned Jessie to Rick now it would take him a moment to remember who she was.

This ended up being longer than I thought but when I began writing I just kept going! People will always find a way to disrespect and invalidate Rick and Michonne's relationship, no matter what canon tells them but their negativity changes nothing. They can have as many opinions as they wish but Rick and Michonne will still be married, living happily with their children and being more in love than ever and if we are lucky enough to see them again then that will be shown over and over again.

Forever and always it will be Rick and Michonne

[inkdrinkerworld]

Cw: brief mention of past childhood abuse/trauma, talk of not being good parents. This is representation for the girlies (gn) that are unsure about being parents/know they don’t want kids! You’re perfect and valid

Sirius Black x fem!reader (one use of girl at the end there)

“I don’t think I’d want to have kids.” You say to Sirius as you lay beside him, your head on his shoulder as he tickles your back.

It’s an abrupt confession seeing as neither of you had been talking about that, but Sirius just hums.

“Any reason why, poppet?” His voice is even. To be truthful, Sirius goes back and forth with the idea too.

You take a while to elaborate; “I think having to help raise my siblings, and then dealing with all of that stress and having to correct my brother’s actions and all of that,” you take a breath. “I think it took it out of me. I also really don’t want to screw up a kid.”

Sirius nods, a kiss to your cheek. He feels you inhale against his hand and waits for you to speak again, “Would that make our relationship harder? Would it be a deal breaker?”

He pulls back to get a good look at you. “Because you don’t want babies?” When you nod, Sirius shakes his head. “No, doll. I don’t think I want kids either, but especially so if you don’t want them.”

“Don’t say that just to agree with me, Siri.” You sigh and Sirius copies you.

“I’m not. I go back and forth with it just as you do. Most days I’m leaning towards it just being me and you.” His voice is too raw and earnest for you to doubt him.

You breathe out long, “I just,” you pause, picking your words. “We’ve both had shitty childhoods, I don’t know if we’d be good parents. No one can be perfect and I don’t want to fuck up a kid that didn’t have the choice of being here; I know that much for certain.”

“I think that’s a good thing to know, babe. We aren’t what happened to us and while we’re better now, we can’t predict how we’ll be despite our best efforts with our own kids, you’re right. I wouldn’t want to fuck them up either.”

They fall when you say, “Does that make me a bad person? That I wouldn’t risk it because raising my siblings was like me having kids already and really don’t want to fuck them up like we were?”

He doesn’t like that this has been troubling you. Sirius knows you better than anyone else on planet earth and he knows for you to cry like this means you’ve thought about this a lot.

He hates that you’ve been tormenting yourself over not wanting kids for so long.

Sirius pulls you closer when your tears turn to sobs, his arms firm weight around your back as he kisses your eyes. Salty tears pass through the seam of his lips.

“That doesn’t make you a bad person, poppet. That makes you a good person actually. We can keep our family just like this. Me, you, the birds you feed in the yard and maybe a dog later down the road.”

“And a cat,” you say all sniffly and Sirius wrinkles his nose.

“If you really want a cat, I’ll get you a cat. Just no more thinking it’s wrong to not want kids.” You nod, content to let Sirius pet you as your cries slow.

“You’ll still love me the most right?” He laughs, tilting your chin up and kissing your lips.

“I love you best, silly girl. Always will, even if we had kids.” You slap his chest and Sirius shrugs. “Maybe that’s how I know I’m not cut out, I don’t think I could put someone over you.” He laughs suddenly. “Fuck that’s sounds horrid.”

You wiggle onto his chest, kissing the constellation he got for you. “Doesn’t sound horrid. Dunno if I could handle not being top of your love list.” You say teasingly and Sirius smiles, all pleased that even with your red nose and slightly puffy eyes you’re okay.

Pride blooms in his chest as it does every time he assuages your worries. “Well, you never have to worry, poppet. Now gimme a kiss and let’s finish this episode of Bake Off.”

[pandapetals]

You'll Get Used To It

logan howlett x afab!reader - mission, x-men team, slight angst, no y/n used, no reader description, inspired by x1 film where logan complains about the leather suits

Logan complains about the X-Men suits being too tight so you help him.

read on Ao3

The group had gathered in Xavier’s office, the tension almost tangible as Charles laid out the plans to rescue a group of captured mutant children. You stood alongside Scott and Storm, your eyes fixed on Xavier as he spoke, but the weight of Logan’s presence near the doorway was impossible to ignore. Even without looking, you could feel him—his silent, brooding energy radiating from the corner of the room, drawing your attention no matter how much you tried to focus.

Your heart tightened at the thought of him, but you forced yourself to stay focused, eyes ahead. There was too much at stake, too many lives on the line for you to let personal feelings cloud your judgment. Still, the awareness of Logan lingered in the back of your mind, pulling at your attention like a constant, steady pulse.

As Charles continued speaking, outlining the rescue strategy, you felt Logan’s gaze flicker across the room. Instinctively, you glanced over, catching his eyes for just a brief second before you quickly looked away. His eyes held something unreadable—something you had seen so many times but could never fully decipher.

You weren’t sure what had changed between the two of you over the past few months. It wasn’t like you had spent much time together, and yet, the air between you always seemed charged with an unspoken tension, something unacknowledged but undeniably real. You hated that it lingered now, distracting you when you needed to be focused.

“Logan,” Charles said suddenly, pulling your attention back to the present. “Your tracking skills will be essential for locating the children once we’re in the field.”

Logan straightened slightly at the mention of his name, his jaw tightening as he gave a short nod. “Yeah, I got it,” he muttered, though there was a gruffness in his voice like he wasn’t entirely sure where he fit in this plan.

Scott, ever the leader, turned toward Logan with his usual no-nonsense demeanor. “We don’t have time for personal conflicts. We work together on this—everyone’s lives depend on it.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed slightly at Scott, but he gave no response. The tension between the two was palpable, but Logan wasn’t about to pick a fight, not now. He just gave a curt nod, his focus turning back to Charles.

You couldn’t help but steal another glance in Logan’s direction, watching the way he squared his shoulders as if he was trying to brush off the weight of everyone’s eyes on him. You could see the tension there, the way his fists clenched at his sides, the way he seemed just a little more isolated than the rest of the group.

There was always something about Logan that felt... distant like he carried the world on his shoulders but never let anyone close enough to share the burden. He didn’t let people in. Not really. Except—except with you, there were those moments. Fleeting, unspoken, but moments where the wall between you seemed thinner, more fragile.

Charles’s voice brought your focus back again. “Trust is earned, Logan,” he said gently, his tone calm but firm. “But this mission is about more than trust. It’s about doing what’s right. We need you.”

Logan’s eyes flicked briefly to Charles before settling back on the ground. He was quiet for a moment, as if considering his options, weighing his place in all of this. Finally, he gave a sharp nod. “Fine. Let’s get it done.”

The group dispersed after that, heading toward the jet. You followed along in silence, your thoughts heavy with the weight of what was coming. It wasn’t until you were aboard the jet, sitting quietly in one of the seats near the back, that you noticed Logan fidgeting across from you, tugging at the collar of his black leather suit.

He grumbled under his breath, pulling at the stiff fabric as it pressed uncomfortably against his neck. The tension in his body hadn’t eased, and his frustration was palpable. You watched him for a moment, biting your lip to hold back a smile. Even Logan, with all his bravado and unshakable attitude, could be undone by something as simple as an uncomfortable suit.

“Having trouble?” you asked, your voice soft but teasing.

Logan shot you a sideways glance, his brow furrowing. “This damn suit’s choking me,” he muttered, still pulling at the collar like it was a noose around his neck. “How do you wear this thing?”

You chuckled softly, the sound surprising even you. In the midst of the tension and the stakes of the mission, here was Logan, fighting his uniform like it was his worst enemy. “You get used to it,” you replied, leaning back in your seat. “Just part of the job.”

Logan huffed, clearly unconvinced. “Yeah, well, not sure I’ll be wearing this long enough to get used to it.”

A smile tugged at your lips, and before you could stop yourself, you leaned forward slightly. “Here, let me fix it.”

You reached over, your fingers brushing against his neck as you gently tugged at the collar of his suit, loosening the tight material. Logan tensed at the contact, his muscles tightening under your touch, but he didn’t pull away. He just watched you, his eyes softening ever so slightly as you worked to make him more comfortable.

“There,” you said after a moment, your fingers lingering a bit longer than necessary before you pulled back. “That should be better.”

Logan blinked, reaching up to touch the collar, his expression caught somewhere between surprise and... something else. “Thanks,” he muttered, his voice a little quieter now, almost unsure.

You smiled, settling back into your seat. “Don’t mention it. Can’t have you grumbling through the entire mission.”

Logan grunted in response, but there was something lighter in his tone now, a shift in the atmosphere between you. You could still feel the tension—the uncertainty of the mission, the weight of everything unsaid between you—but for a moment, it felt manageable.

The jet engines hummed as the team prepared for takeoff, and you glanced over at Logan one last time. He was still fidgeting with the suit, but now his movements were slower, less agitated. His eyes met yours, and for a second, you thought you saw something soften in his expression. Something unguarded, if only for a fleeting moment.

“You’re going to make a good teammate, you know that?” you said, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

Logan raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a smirk. “Is that so?”

“Yeah,” you replied, your tone light but sincere. “For a guy who’s constantly acting like he doesn’t need anyone... you’re not so bad.”

He chuckled, the sound low and rough but not unkind. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

You smiled, leaning back in your seat as the jet lifted into the sky. “You should.”

For the first time in a long while, the silence that followed didn’t feel so heavy. It felt... easy. Comfortable. Like maybe there was room for something more between the two of you. Something real. Something unspoken but understood.

Logan leaned back, his hand resting idly against the loosened collar, and let out a long breath, his eyes closing briefly as he settled into the quiet feeling lighter.