#Her: ‘Oh. I think that’s quite useless.’

[vbecker10]

Loads of Fun

Laundry Day (Loki x female reader Y/N)

How Could This Not Fit?! (Loki x fem reader Y/N)

Pairing: Bucky x female reader (Y/N)

Summary: Bucky doesn't want to admit that he hasn't quite gotten used to all the new technology since he was freed from the Winter Soldier and his latest issue is with the dryer. Y/N catches him mid-struggle with the machine and comes to his rescue.

Warnings: some light swearing, feeling a tad useless and old, Bucky struggling hard with the laundry, Y/N being super awkward

A/N: So in Laundry Day (linked above) I wrote an off hand little comment about how much laundry Bucky needed to do and @alexakeyloveloki comment inspired me to write a short fic about it so... enjoy 💚

This is not the same Y/N from Laundry Day & How Could This Not Fit?!, this is a different one. Apparently a bunch of women in the Tower have the same name as you (haha sorry that's dumb but I wanted them both to be Y/N fics so here we are)

"Oh.... I messed up," you close your book and get up from the couch quickly as you suddenly realize it's almost midnight. You had meant to only read one more chapter but you had gotten lost in your book as always.

You grab your detergent from the closet, drag your overflowing laundry hamper to the door and slide on a pair of flip flops. "Every freaking time," you mumble to yourself as you open the door. Once again, you put off doing laundry until you completely ran out of clothes.

The elevator doors open and you step out into the basement. "At least no one should be down here," you think out loud thankfully.

You had tried to do your laundry this morning but you gave up on that idea as soon as you opened the door. Loki's girlfriend was sitting on top of one of the dryers with her legs around his waist. You put your hand on the door and shake the images of the two of them away, you don't need that to be stuck in your brain.

"Damnit," you whisper as you freeze completely, the door halfway open. Bucky has his back to you as he stares at the dryer, unaware of your presence. You had developed a crush on the super soldier and decided the best way to handle it was to avoid him at all cost like any other mature adult. You were terrified that you might say or do something embarrassing so you thought your best option was to never be alone with him.

You sigh, knowing you're out of underwear and options so you open the door the rest of the way. Before you can say anything to him, the dryer Bucky is focused on begins to beep loudly.

"I don't know what you want from me," he says to it, his voice full of frustration.

He opens the door and the sound stops, you are both completely still but as soon as he closes the door it begins again. He pushes the button on the panel to start the dryer but the beeping continues.

"Why are you so complicated?" he asks the machine, clearly unaware that he is no longer alone. He pushes another button that does nothing to quiet the sound then he groans loudly, nearly ripping the door off the hinges with his metal arm.

"Do you need help?" you ask quietly from behind him.

He closes the door quickly as he turns around to face you. You can see the frustration in his expression turn to embarrassment when he realizes you were watching him. As he opens his mouth to answer you, the dryer starts to beep again.

He pulls the door open and turns towards you again. With a look of utter defeat he says, "I think it hates me."

You cover your mouth to keep from giggling at the fact that a super soldier is losing a battle with an appliance. There is no need for you to add insult to injury, you think, but he does look like he is in desperate need of a hug.

You walk over to him and drag your hamper in front of an empty machine. "I'm sure it doesn't hate you," you reassure him with a smile and he shrugs, clearly not believing you.

"Can I take a look?" you ask pointing at the dryer and he nods, moving away from it as if it might explode at any second.

"You can try but I'm telling you, this one is evil," he laughs nervously.

"I think I can handle it," you try to sound sure of yourself. "Oh, I'm Y/N, by the way," you suddenly decide to introduce yourself as you close the door.

"I know," he answers and you turn your head to look at him over your shoulder, the beeping continuing. "You work for the IT department," he says and you feel yourself blushing. "I've seen you around the Tower a few times."

"Yep, that's me," you respond, trying not to sound as if your internally screaming. He remembers my name? When did we even talk? I definitely would remember if we talked. Focus, focus, you yell at yourself, you've been staring at him for too long.

"Well, they don't train us to handle haunted appliances but I think I can handle this one," you say then immediately cringe. Why do I talk? You think, this is why I avoid him.

Your thoughts are interrupted by Bucky laughing. You turn towards your new favorite sound and he smiles at you as he leans on a nearby washer.

Ok, you think to yourself, time to show off and fix this stupid thing. You check to see what settings he's used but they all look right. Well, there's that, you think a bit annoyed but you're determined to figure it out. Suddenly you get an idea.

"Sometimes these things get weird when they are unbalanced or too full," you explain as you open the door and bend down. You reach in to level things out. A second too late you realize your holding a pair of his damp boxers and throw them back inside.

"Yep, these look fine," you close the door quickly and stand up, hoping he didn't notice but you can tell he saw you pick them up. "No. I mean... not that the boxers look fine, just like the load is fine. I- I'm just gonna..." you say, as you turn to face the dryer again. "I'm gonna die," you whisper as you rub your face with your hands. Good job dummy, you managed to make this even more awkward.

"Damn dryer is going to beat both of us," he says after a moment of continuous beeping and you can't help but agree with him.

"I think you might be right-" you pause, your eyebrows scrunching as a blinking red light catches your attention. "Has this been blinking the whole time?"

"I think so," he guesses. "Is that important?"

You sigh and nod, "It means I'm an idiot."

He tilts his head, his arms folded across his chest as he watches you open the dryer door again. You pull open the small door at the bottom and groan. He walks closer to see what you are doing but you don't notice until he leans over your shoulder.

"What is that?" he asks and you jump at how close his voice is to your ear. "Sorry," he laughs. "Thought you knew I was in here."

"Yea I just thought you were over there," you wave you hand towards where he had been and almost hit him in the face with the back of your hand. He dodges it easily and laughs lightly as you cover your mouth. "I'm so sorry," you mumble from under your hand.

"Its fine, you missed," he says with a grin. "So what's wrong with it?"

You pull out the lint trap and show him, "This thing is full so it won't run until we empty it." His expression tells you he has no idea what it is so you explain how a lint trap works and that if you don't clean them out you could potentially start a fire.

"Oh," he responds. "Wouldn't it be helpful if the stupid thing said that's what was wrong with it instead of just beeping?"

"It did," you groan then point to the light that is no longer blinking. "That's what the little light was for."

You wait for him to be stunned by your stupidity. You work for the IT department at Stark Industries, the most technologically advanced company in the world and you barely fixed a not broken dryer. You turn it on for him then turn your attention to finally loading your clothes into the washer.

Instead of responding the way you think he will, he sighs and takes a seat. "I don't understand any of this new technology," he admits.

You turn over your shoulder to look at him and see that he seems defeated again. "Don't worry," you try to make him feel better. "Stark likes new toys. He gets all the fanciest tech, no one knows how to use this stuff."

"I don't know how to do anything," he rests his elbows on his knees and leans forward. You turn on the washers and walk towards him. "Nothing is simple anymore."

"What do you mean?" you ask as you sit in the empty chair next to him.

"Everything is a computer now and the whole building talks. The fridge has more technology in it than the last car I drove, the toaster is voice activated, hell even the sinks are motion sensors," he says, his eyes focused on his hands as he talks.

You cover your mouth quickly to hide your laugh but it slips out. He looks at you and you lower you hand to ask, "I'm sorry but... who told you the toaster was voice activated?"

"Sam," he says then his eyes widen, "It's not is it?"

"No," you shake your head and can't hold back your laughter.

He groans, lowering his head again, "I'm gonna kill him."

"You didn't really believe him did you?" you ask in disbelief.

"I spent five minutes yelling 'toast' at it this morning before he said it was probably updating," he admits, covering his face with his metal hand.

You smile and imagine him getting more and more annoyed at the poor little appliance.

He sits up, resting the back on his head on the wall behind you. "I just don't know why everything is so complicated," he says and you suddenly feel guilty for laughing.

"I'm sorry," you tell him, looking down at your feet. "Have you tried talking to Steve about getting you up to speed on some things?"

"I don't want to keep bothering him every time I can't turn on a light or get ice out of the fridge," he says. "Steve adjusted fine so I just have to keep trying to figure all of this out."

"Who told you Steve adjusted well?" you ask before you can stop yourself.

He looks at you but doesn't answer so you continue talking. "I was part of the team that helped wake him up. Trust me, he freaked out plenty of times and he was confused by pretty much everything in the beginning."

He shakes his head, "I didn't know that, it's one of the only things we've never really talked about."

"I'm sorry we didn't have a team prepped for you when you joined. I guess we just sort of figured you had been awake a lot more than Steve," you say. "As the uh... other guy," you add awkwardly, trying to avoid calling him the Winter Soldier.

"Technically I was but..." his voice trails off and his flesh hand covers his metal hand as he looks down.

"The other guy didn't do much cooking or laundry, did he?" you ask, finishing his thought.

"No," he answers.

After a short silence you say, "If you want, I can help get you up to speed. A lot of the tech around here is actually pretty easy to use, if you know what your doing."

"You don't have to waste your time," he shrugs. "I'll figure it all out."

"Helping you wouldn't be a waste of time," you tell him with a smile. "Besides, I have a lot of free time. I pretty much do nothing but read when I'm not working so I'm always around if you need me," you add and groan internally. Try to make it sound like you don't have a life at all, good job, you think.

He smiles and makes eye contact with you, "That would be really helpful, thanks."

You get lost in how his smile lights up his face but the long beep of the dryer finishing thankfully means you don't stare at him until it gets awkward. He gets up to empty the machine and you grab your book from the top of the washer before sitting back down. As you open the book he sits next to you again.

"Oh," you close the book and look up. "Sorry, I thought- you don't have to stay down here. I've got a while left until it'll be done."

He looks at the time left on the washer and says, "I just thought we could talk for a bit but... if you would rather read, I can leave you to it."

"I can read this later," you smile. You mean to gently toss the book on the table used to fold laundry but you over shoot and it hits the floor, sliding away from you. You cover your face with your hands and get up.

"I've got it," he laughs. He places the book on the table and sits next to you.

"I'm not usually a disaster," you tell him and he chuckles. "Actually, I kind of am. That's why I'm way better off with books and the tech stuff then with people," you admit. "I always do something stupid or say something weird," you feel yourself shrink back in your chair.

"I think it makes you interesting," he replies with a smile. "I'm never quite sure what you're going to say or do."

You laugh nervously, "Me neither." A second later your brain turns on, wait did he say I was interesting?

"There is actually one thing you could help me with now, if that's ok?" he asks, keeping you from focusing too much on what he had just said. He takes out his phone, "I think there's something wrong with it."

He hands it to you and you almost drop it when your fingers touch, "Ha, I've got it. Sorry." You open the settings and start looking for usual problems but things seem fine. You look up at him, "What's wrong with it?"

He smirks and says, "It doesn't have your number."

"Wow," you can't help but laugh. "That was really smooth."

He laughs and says, "I'm a bit out of practice but I thought that was good."

"It was," you blush and add your number before handing him back his phone.

He looks at it then back at you and says, "Okay, but seriously, how do I text you cause I'm not sure how exactly to do that."

I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did 💚💚

(I don't have a Bucky tag list yet so sorry my Loki list didn't get a choice lol)

@soubi001 @michelleleewise @harlequin-hangout @ace-of-gay @xorpsbane @mochie85 @sheris532 @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @lokiandbuckysdoll @winterfrostlovetriangle @cabingrlandrandomcrap @stupidthoughtsinwriting @mjsthrillernp @lulubelle814 @goblingirlsarah @janineb86 @alexakeyloveloki @siconetribal @jiyascepter

[canichangemyblogname]

Do y’all know anyone who doesn’t actually know how to have a conversation, all they know is how to interrupt or derail a conversation? Like they keep talking over you to tell you their opinion on something (often unrelated), even though the conversation doesn’t call for an opinion. There was no, “What do y’all think,” but they still gotta interrupt, speak very loudly over you and tell you some very wrong opinion. Or you’ll be talking and then they just start up a different topic. And when you call them out on that the response is, “I’m not interested in that.”

[aftermathing]

I'm like. actively being abused at home. What do I even do about that.

[okay-babe]

Imagine alastor thinks his wife is just the most perfect, angelic being he’s ever met, so he’s downright shocked to fight out she also ended up in hell going “yeah I killed a man once” (he falls even more in love)

A Good Thing, Indeed

tags: alastor x fem! reader, established relationship, alastor and reader are married, angelic reader, protective/possessive alastor, brief human alastor x human reader, fluff, very mild angst note: I went a little overboard with this one, but I hope you enjoy, anon <3 Find a sequel (of sorts) to this fic, here.

Alastor had never quite understood how someone like him had ended up with a woman like you.

You were soft and understanding, utterly ceaseless in your kindness and love of near anyone who crossed your path, a true saint to be sure.

Alastor on the other hand, had always been quite the opposite.

Where you were soft, your lover was unyielding, where you were understanding, he was impatient, and when it came to the capacity for kindness and love within his heart, many would have gone on record stating that there was much to be desired in that regard.

Yet, even still, you chose him, and he, you.

Every. Single. Time.

It was as if the two of you were meant to be.

The proud and charismatic up and coming host of a brand new radio show, and the modest and soft spoken kindergarten teacher that was ever present upon his arm.

To Alastor, you were everything and more, and whether he was willing to admit it aloud or not, he all but worshiped the very ground that you walked upon.

There was so very little worth caring for in a world like the one that he lived in, and yet there you were, a shining beacon of light and hope to keep him from losing his mind over it all (well, at least in part, though he knew deep down that a portion had been missing since long before you'd made your way into his life).

For all of this, Alastor praised you and your love ceaselessly, his appreciation for your union a vast and endless thing that filled him with a sense of pride stronger than any other he'd felt before.

And how could it not?

You were his wife.

You!

The beautiful kindergarten teacher who worked in the public school just down the street from his broadcasting station, the one with the smile that lit up a room and the laugh that could make a man blush.

The one with the students who sung her praises to their parents during pick up and the coworkers turned friends who would utterly gush about her at even the briefest mention of her name.

You.

The woman that no one believed had gotten New Orleans' most prominent radio host to settle down after only just a year of courting, and whose stunning church wedding had been the talk of the town.

You were perfect, you were lovely, and the sweetest part of it all was that you bore his last name.

And oh, what whiplash that must have caused for those who hadn't known of your courtship earlier on. It nearly sent Alastor into a tizzy just imagining it.

The sweet, adoring woman that your son calls his teacher is also the wife of the ever unreadable and notably cold radio host from just down the street that scarcely any could say they truly knew?

How scandalous! Whatever is a woman like her doing with a man like him?!

Well, the answer, quite honestly, was being doted upon nigh endlessly.

If you wanted for even the smallest of things, it would be yours in an instant, and if you desired even the most useless of luxuries, he would have spared no expense to have it in your hands by the end of the day.

And even beyond that, there was the persistent desire to stay by your side, his presence always guaranteed the very moment you mentioned want for it.

An ice cream social at the school where you'd be meeting your new students and their parents? Alastor was there, conversing politely with a few mothers on the difficulties of parenting (in spite of his notable lack of children), making nearly everyone wonder what the hell a famous radio host was doing at the local elementary school.

Visiting Mimzy at her slightly sleazy little lounge in the shadier side of the city? Alastor was there, dressed to the nines, looking immensely out of place as you danced the night away with your friends (and him of course) to your little heart's content.

His love for you was nearly as endless as yours was for the very world beneath your feet, and in spite of himself he couldn't help but fall deeper and deeper in love at every borderline naive action you took.

You want to buy that man a drink because he looks lonely? Certainly darling, your husband would be happy to scare him off all night as the fool tries to make unwanted advances at you that he thinks are warranted thanks to your kindness.

You want to pick a fight with the burly man whose house is on your walk to work because he's been shouting cruel things at his dog nearly every morning for the past several weeks? Oh of course, just let Alastor prepare to use his most unsettling smile while he reaches for the leather sheathed knife he keeps attached to his belt so he can wordlessly threaten the oaf without you ever even realizing.

And so, knowing all of that and having lived such a love-filled few years at your side, how could Alastor ever have believed he might one day see you again once he came to in Hell shortly after his demise?

The short answer was, he couldn't.

And though he would never have been willing to admit such a thing aloud, it utterly shattered a portion of his heart to know he would never see your sweet smile or hear your perfect laugh ever again.

And to imagine what your reaction may have been once the police had informed you of all that he had done?

Well, he tried his best not to.

Because while he couldn't bring himself to regret those he had killed and the things he had done, he did regret having been left with no choice but to keep such a thing from you and leave you with such a mess upon his death.

Certainly you had deserved better, that much he knew.

But there was absolutely nothing he could do about that now.

Or, at least, that's what he had led himself to believe.

Until one day, he'd been broken out of his typical morning routine of brewing his black coffee and digging into a freshly caught deer by the sound of knocking at his door.

There were very few people who knew of where Alastor lived at this point, with him being multiple years removed from life and having firmly cemented himself within society as a powerful and merciless overlord, so honestly it hadn't come as very much of a surprise when he opened the door and found an old friend waiting rather impatiently on the other side.

Mimzy.

Having arrived in Hell not very long after the radio host, the former flapper, (who he had actually met through you), had become a familiar face throughout the past few years as he'd tried to grow accustomed to life without his darling wife at his side.

It was nice, in a way, to have that reminder of you near when he wished for it to be, and so he allowed the sinner to call him something like a friend and offered her protection when it was convenient enough for him that it didn't prove to be a hassle.

Although, today of all days the overlord was certainly a little less than pleased to see Mimzy's familiar face at his doorstep, and he was reasonably certain that she knew why that was.

It was your former anniversary after all, and today would have been your tenth year of marriage had he only lived long enough to reach such a landmark achievement with you.

A smile, strained and thin, descended upon his lips, and, in spite of his feelings, Alastor remained as cordial as ever, albeit rather cold with his words.

"Mimzy, my dear! How wonderful to see you! Whatever could possibly be so important as to have you at my door on a day like today?"

There was a certain level of threat to his tone that no doubt left the woman standing before him floundering for a few seconds, before finally, she mustered up her reply, her smile ever so slightly less confident than before.

"Alastor, just the fella that I was lookin' for!"

The sinner began, placing her right hand upon her hip as she inspected the condition of the nails on her left,

"Now I know ya like to be left alone and all on days like this, but I've got a surprise for ya back at my place that I promise you're gonna wanna see a-s-a-p."

She said with her typical air of confidence, immediately causing the Radio Demon to roll his eyes in response, his facade of interest slipping ever so slightly before he seemed to catch himself once more, ever the gentleman.

"Oh do you now? Well, as utterly transfixed as I am over this little mystery of yours, I'm afraid that I just don't have the time to stop by today. Lot's of things to prepare for the upcoming broad-"

"Alastor."

Mimzy said sternly, cutting the overlord in question off rather uncharacteristically with a glare of her own.

"I know damn well that you don't got nothin' planned for the day, so don't you start fibbin', mista, I can see right through ya!"

She began, quickly changing the subject when she seemed to recall exactly who she was talking to at the increasing sound of static.

"Look, I didn't come here to argue with ya or nothin', so you do whatever it is that you wanna do. I just wanted to come over and warn ya that if you don't come by for a visit by the end of the day you're gonna feel like a real fool, okay?"

She emphasized her warning with a dramatized raise of her brow before she grinned rather wickedly and stepped down off of his doorstep, wiggling her fingers in a teasing little wave as she climbed into the back of the very same taxi she must have used to get to his dwellings in the first place.

"I'll see ya around dollface!"

She called out as the car pulled away, leaving Alastor with quite a few more questions than he'd had upon her already unplanned arrival.

What a fantastic start to one's day.

By the time that Alastor made the decision to actually stop by Mimzy's lounge, it was already dark outside, the subtle chirping of crickets reminding him briefly of home as he walked toward his destination, ever a fan of the more simplistic methods of transportation.

He thought of the sounds of crickets and all of the moments with you that their seemingly endless chirps had backed until their sounds faded away with the increasing sounds of the busier section of the city, wherein Mimzy's place was located.

Just as sleazy and sketchy as it had been above, so it was below, and Alastor felt a sudden sense of longing and familiarity as he stepped inside, the smell of cigarettes and the sound of ever so slightly out of tune jazz music reminding him of his days of swing dancing with you on the cracked dance floor of the place Mimzy had owned and operated in life.

The Radio Demon had only just begun to contemplate what you might have thought of a place like this one when suddenly, he heard a familiar voice call out his name, and he turned to find the lounge's owner walking quickly toward him, a wide grin that nearly rivaled his own splitting her cheeks.

"Well would you look who it is, Alastor the Radio Demon here in my lil' lounge, what a lucky lady I must be!"

Mimzy teased as she shouted over the obnoxiously loud music, immediately forcing the man in question to hold back another instinctual roll of his eyes.

"Oh, nonsense, I should think that luck has very little to do with it, my dear."

Alastor drawled, dragging his gaze downward to find his friend standing there, all but vibrating upon her feet, clearly excited by something, though he couldn't quite fathom what in Hell it could possibly be.

That is, until he heard another familiar voice pipe up from somewhere behind him, this one far less anticipated than the last, and by a rather significant margin at that.

"Mimzy?"

It called, an edge of stress to it that had the corners of the overlord's smile twitching downward ever so slightly for the briefest of moments.

Alastor watched as the ex flapper standing before him grinned widely in response to his barely noticeable reaction, her eyes shining as she allowed the person speaking to continue with their question.

"Who did you say the whiskey on the rocks was for?"

The lounge's owner hopped up onto a stool beside where she had been standing, gesturing to the space at the bar near where Alastor was still firmly planted, the ears atop his head twitching ever so slightly as they took in the sound of a voice he'd never thought he'd hear again for the very first time since he'd awoken with them camouflaged within his hair.

"Right here, doll. Speakin' of which, why dontcha c'mere and meet one of my regulars, huh?"

She asked as casually as she could manage, gesturing slightly for the still reeling sinner standing beside the bar to take a seat, which, to her surprise, he actually did, eyes seeking out the source of the voice he was hearing as if in utter disbelief.

And then, much to his shock, there you were.

Sure, you looked different as a sinner, but he would recognize you anywhere, and it certainly helped that your beautiful smile was the very same as he remembered it to be whenever he closed his eyes and found you there waiting for him.

Busy with what was likely a fairly large number of orders that your fellow bartender seemed to be doing very little to try and keep up with, you didn't seem to notice him at first, walking quickly toward your old friend with a glass of whiskey in hand, moving to place it down in front of the ever so prominent Radio Demon absentmindedly when suddenly, you froze, your hand still wrapped around the chilled cup.

The two of you stared at one another for several long moments, eyes widened and breaths halting entirely, until finally Mimzy spoke up from Alastor's right, her laughter obnoxious beside his ear, though he could scarcely bring himself to care with his gaze locked so heavily onto yours.

"Happy anniversary, ya lovebirds! Didn't expect that, didja?!"

She all but cackled, causing you to break eye contact with your husband to gawk at your friend.

"Wait a second, you knew he was here the whole time and didn't tell me?!"

You cried, hand flying to your mouth as Alastor began to regard the woman sitting beside him with a hugely threatening glare, the frightfulness of which was only increased by his unyielding grin, which was beginning to appear more and more malicious by the second.

"Woah woah woah, hold your horses!"

Mimzy shouted, waving her hands all about as if in surrender as she looked back and forth between the two of you nervously,

"She only just got down here this mornin' I swear!"

She explained hurriedly to the overlord beside her, causing the man's eye to twitch with effort as he struggled not to tear his old friend limb from limb while her entire bar watched on in horror.

Alastor tapped one clawed finger against the bar in front of him, his sharpened teeth appearing even more threatening than usual at his apparent anger over the situation at hand.

"And you didn't think, my dear,"

He began, his voice low,

"That I may have wanted to know sooner?"

The sound of static overtook the lounge as the sinner's anger increased with each word he said, causing everyone, including those hired to play the live music, to flee out the front door, leaving the trio to their own devices within the confines of the now empty space.

This fact worked extremely well for Alastor, who was only growing more enraged with each passing second as he considered the implication of Mimzy's actions further.

Not only had this woman, someone who had dared call him a friend for so many years, betrayed him by keeping your presence unknown, but she had also clearly employed you at her poor excuse for a lounge, and was now acting as if she had done him a favor by allowing him to be in the presence of the very woman he'd married.

The urge to rip the sinner to shreds with his very own claws was immense, and perhaps he even would have done so had it not been for a gentle hand coming to rest upon his forearm, the weight of it felt even through his shirt and coat.

Immediately, he stiffened, the familiarity of the touch so jarring that his previous thoughts of murder ceased within an instant as he turned his head to face you properly.

There, illuminated by the dim and yellowed lights of the bar, stood his wife, a woman who he had never expected to see again after all that he had done.

What good deed must he have committed in life to deserve such a blessing as this?

Surely there was some kind of mistake and someone would be descending from the heavens to collect you soon, an angel sent to Hell on accident by way of some great failure on Saint Peter's fault.

Your husband stared at you for a few moments, as if afraid you might disappear if he so much as blinked, before finally, you spoke up, your lips curving into a slightly nervous smile.

"Let her explain?"

You asked gently, taking up the very same tone you used to when asking your beloved to make an exception to one of his many strict internalized rules for your benefit.

'Stay home with me?'

'Give him a chance?'

'A slightly less violent solution, perhaps?'

(the latter of which he'd heard more often than he was willing to admit).

And this time, as always, he caved almost immediately, giving a rather stern nod of his head before looking toward Mimzy with an obviously strained smile on his lips.

She didn't have long, that was for sure.

If she wanted to explain, she'd better do so quickly.

And that much must have been clear, because the ex flapper started talking just about as fast as she could manage while still remaining intelligible.

And what a tale she spun, indeed.

With hurried words and a remarkably nervous expression the likes of which neither you nor your husband had ever seen Mimzy wear before, the sinner apologized profusely for not telling either of you sooner, promising that she had only been trying to make it a surprise in celebration of your anniversary.

Apparently, she had vastly overestimated how persuasive she could be, and had assumed (rather incorrectly) that Alastor would be much more urgent in his arrival to her lounge after she'd paid him a visit, meaning she hadn't exactly intended to have kept the two waiting so long for the "grand reveal" of her surprise.

And, slowly but surely, as Mimzy explained her thought process, your confusion and your husband's apparent anger all but melted away, both reactions coming to be replaced with something located somewhere between amusement and exasperation.

How very like your friend it was to meddle in such a manner, after all.

You'd missed this.

(Alastor wished dearly that he could say the same, but having been stuck alone with it for several years, he couldn't quite relate.)

Still, even he had to admit that Mimzy's actions were something far more similar to misguided kindness than intentional ill will.

Though, there was still one issue that was still bothering him...

"Mimzy."

Alastor interrupted the sinner in the middle of her ramble, watching as she immediately shut her mouth and looked up at him, a familiar bout of nervous laughter falling from her lips as she wrung her hands together.

Seeing that she was paying attention, the overlord continued,

"I understand what you were going for with your..." He trailed off for a moment before hearing you pipe up from where you stood on the other side of the bar,

"Efforts."

How amusing, it seemed that even after years of separation, not even death could sever the almost supernatural ability you had to understand what your husband was trying to say before even he truly did.

Alastor nodded,

"Exactly. But that being said, I struggle to understand one thing."

He leaned toward his old friend slightly, watching her eyes widen as he did so, clearly unsure of what was going to happen next.

"Why, pray tell, my dear, is my wife spending her precious time working at your lounge if you had every intention of returning her to me?"

The possessive tone to his voice made you blush, eyes moving to the ground as you awaited Mimzy's response.

She was quick to answer.

"Great question, dollface!"

She laughed nervously,

"I uh, I guess I kinda figured she'd know if she was down here then you would be too, so I wanted to give her a little bit of a distraction... and maybe get some extra help for a few hours in the meantime."

She admitted quietly, though by the time she was finished speaking, Alastor wasn't paying her much mind anymore, his mind now occupied with what he considered to be a far more pressing issue.

Because now that Mimzy mentioned it...

"Dearest,"

He began, immediately catching your attention as he turned to face you fully, allowing you to take in the sight of him and his new "look" for the first time since your arrival.

You would be lying if you said you weren't a fan, as different as it may have been.

"Speaking of 'down here',"

Alastor continued, amusement dancing within his eyes,

"What exactly are you doing in a place like Hell?"

Your gaze moved downward once more at that, and you cleared your throat awkwardly as you tried to find anything else to focus on.

Eventually though, you gave up, and forced yourself to meet your husband's gaze once more.

"I uh, I killed a parent..."

You muttered under your breath, immediately causing Alastor's eyes to widen slightly in surprise, one of his ears twitching slightly atop his head.

"Pardon?"

He asked in utter disbelief, unable to even begin to comprehend what he was hearing.

You, his beautiful and darling wife, had killed a parent of one of the children you taught?

Utterly unbelievable, perish the thought.

You sighed, crossing your arms in a mix of embarrassment and frustration,

"I killed a parent, Al. Lucy and Arnold's father. He was beating on them and their mama something fierce, and I saw the opportunity to put a stop to it one night when walking over to the station after work... He went down the alley between the grocers and the tailor to take a shortcut home or something like that, and I just followed him before I even knew what was really going on..."

You sounded hesitant as you spoke, eyes downcast once more until without a word, your husband pressed his gloved index finger to your chin, raising your gaze to his own once more so you could see the utter awe present there.

He was positively enamored.

"You killed Harry Wells?"

He asked, shock still coloring his tone as he watched you for your reaction.

Slowly, after a few seconds of contemplation, you nodded, cheeks still pink as you did your best to keep from trying to avoid Alastor's heavy gaze.

"I uh, yeah. I did."

The overlord sitting across from you chuckled softly, a sound that slowly grew in volume and exuberance until he was laughing outright, the familiar sound music to your ears even as he sighed and wiped a tear from his eye afterward, something he had done often in life.

He grinned even wider at you than before, the pride in his eyes obvious as he shook his head as if still in disbelief.

"And to think,"

He began, reaching across the counter to grab both of your hands so he could pull you closer, your forearms resting against the bar countertop.

"I hadn't thought it possible to love you any more than I already did."

You laughed at that, pressing your forehead against your husband's with a sigh,

"Well in that case, I suppose it's a good thing that I have all of eternity to prove you wrong, huh?"

Alastor chuckled softly, humming as he took in the sight of you, as if trying to commit each individual detail to memory.

"A good thing, indeed, dear heart."

[parameddic]

*tk making me happy sounds*

[churipu]

OK HEAR ME OUT

nerd!nanami x girly!reader pls pls pls

thankss 💗

NANAMI WITH A GIRLY GIRL ૮₍ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ₎ა

featuring. nanami kento x fem! reader

warnings. i'm gonna make this a college! au , and a little cursing

note. hi nonnie, sorry that i just got to your request now — but i hope you like this :< uni's already getting real hectic, so updates might be a lil on the slow side.

nanami didn't fall in love with you at first sight — in fact, he finds you quite the nuisance. the way everyone loves you just because of the way you talk, the way you dress, the way you smell, your body language. he thinks it was all a simple act to fool people.

"hi, nanami!" you greet him, your bright pink colored apron dress flowing against the wind as you walked towards him elegantly — a white cotton cardigan covering your shoulders.

the male arched his brow mutely at your cheery voice, wondering what could someone like you want from him, "do you need anything?" he asks.

initially he thought that you were one of those people who'd woo him and try to get him to do your assignments, but he was proven wrong when you shook your head. giving out the brightest smile, showing off your pearly whites, "no, i was just saying hi."

then you brushed by him, the smell of your sweet fragrance entering his nostrils. sandalwood. you smelt like sandalwood and a hint of vanilla.

though he could then make sure of one thing, what an odd girl.

nanami was a good student. he focuses on his studies, while you try to fit in a bit of everything in your schedule — playing, hanging out, studying. but at the end of the day, nanami finds it shocking that you could pass with flying colors.

from his peripheral vision, nanami could see people crowding around you. he tells himself he didn't care about you, yet here was wondering why they were all over you.

"you told us you didn't study, you liar!" a girl pointed out accusingly at you, a smile pressed onto her lips.

"i just got lucky, i swear."

"that's what you said last time, y/n."

nanami didn't mean to eavesdrop, he knew it was wrong to hear someone else's conversation. but he couldn't help it when these people were speaking loudly — the only thing he could focus on was the fact that you had a perfect score.

call him weird, but he's all in for the brains.

the first time he officially spoke to you — nanami was a mess. he had never been in a proper conversation with most of the people at campus. most he's been in one is when he had to tell his group members off for being useless, but that was about it. and with you, he's a little awkward.

"oh, hi nanami! do you need anything?" you noticed that the male was eyeing you from his seat.

upon realizing what he had done, nanami immediately averted his gaze to the front. ignoring your words, not putting a second thought to it — but you shrugged it off anyways.

and the second time he laid his eyes on you for quite some time, it was in the middle of a lecture. so you slipped a note asking if he needed anything, and he replied with his own handwriting, saying "no".

embarrassed he'd gotten caught again. nanami felt like he was being discreet about his staring when in reality, it wasn't. and it's funny.

nanami didn't really understand why he was feeling like this. and he had nobody to talk to or ask about his feelings — so he made an assumption, it was the flu. coming into the lecture hall with a scarf tucked into his neck, and a white mask covering the lower half of his face.

"nanami, are you sick?" you asked him, and he nodded mutely, "well, it is flu season after all. i hope you get well soon."

nanami felt his heart flutter, and he chewed on his lips in frustration — if the mask had not been on his face, he was sure you'd be able to notice the frustration lingering in his expression.

his fingers frantically typing on the search engine typing out his symptoms, and every one of the choices ended up telling him the same thing.

he's in love.

but the male denied that, talking to himself how the internet was just a waste of time. he's in denial for a bit.

he's in denial of his own feelings. and would constantly turn away whenever you're there, passing by you in a rush as you were greeting him, or moving away to another seat when you sat next to him. forgetting the fact that you were also affected by his actions, wondering what you did wrong to him.

"hi nanami—" you waved your hand as the two of you passed by each other in the hallway.

but the male brushes past you in a flash, not even letting you finish your sentence. and you shrugged thinking that he might be in a rush.

but when it happened, again and again. you could definitely conclude that he is indeed avoiding you — hell, he won't even spare you a glance. and you wondered what you did wrong to him.

"is this seat—" you approached the seat next to him, ready to claim it but he stood up packing his things and moving to a lone seat three rows behind, "taken..?"

ouch.

nanami didn't feel like he did anything wrong until he was met by one of your friends. who — well, said anything but nice things to him. threats. warnings. and questions. even nanami didn't know the answer to.

"what the fuck did you do to y/n?" the female said, eyeing nanami up and down judgmentally.

what did he do to you?

"what?"

"i said, what did you do to her you dipshit?" wow. nanami could only furrow his brows, thinking of a possible answer that he is sure of because of the looks of it — even he didn't know what was going on right now, "why did you make her sad?"

"sad?" nanami questions, "i didn't talk to her."

"exactly. why didn't you? you know she likes you, right?" nanami's breath hitched at the revelation, and he shook his head, "what? are you stupid? and here i thought she was being too fucking obvious, god . . ."

he was too caught up to hear what the angry female in front of him had to say, he just focused on the fact that you— y/n l/n— liked him.

he was stupid with all these new feelings. and nanami wasn't used to being stupid — so for the first time, he had to ask your friend's help. asking guidance for what he should do, what you like, what he needed to say to you.

"just say you're sorry and confess. you like her too don't you?" your friend exasperatedly explained, already feeling a little exhausted from having to tell such a smart but idiotic male about love.

"okay."

your friend was a bit skeptical, so she had to elaborate and make a script for him (which he ended up reading in front of you by the way), "just try to memorize this and go."

nanami in fact, could not memorize the script.

when he knocked on your door, reading off the script in front of you. you find it funny, because you didn't know what was going on or what you expected.

"what are you doing, nanami?" you chuckled, shutting the door behind you as the male stood on your porch, holding the small paper your friend gave to him in his hand.

"apologizing."

"for what?"

"your friend told me i made you sad by avoiding you," you choked on your own breath, a bit embarrassed by your friend — flailing your hands a bit.

"she did? oh my god. i'll tell her to say sorry . . ."

nanami shook his head, "it's alright. and i like you too."

nanami and you made it official that night. and he, oh my god, he spoils you. rotten. despite being a college student — nanami has money. buying you dresses, hair accessories, flowers, anything he thinks reminded him of you, he will buy it for you.

"ken, what's this?" you question him as the male handed you a pink colored plastic bag.

nanami didn't answer you, but beckoned you to open it and to see for yourself. when you did, the sight of two shiny hair accessories made your heart flutter, "you got this for me? thank you so much, kento."

nanami gets very happy when he sees you using the things he buys for you, and he gets pretty upset when you tell him that he shouldn't be spending so much on you.

despite your advice, nanami still buys everything for you. he doesn't regret anything if it's about you.

he's a little tweaky and awkward at first, but as time goes by. he gets the hang of dating and relationships. the most gentle male, holding your hand, he will never let you walk on the outside part of the sidewalk, he stands behind you during an escalator ride up because you love to wear dresses, he will exchange his shoes for you if your feet were paining because of your own shoes (and he will carry your shoes for you), will carry your shopping bags and even your normal bag for you.

"let me carry that," he grabs your bag and carries it before lacing his fingers with yours.

"ken, you don't have to—"

"i insist." he cuts you off, smiling down at you and his hand squeezes yours lightly as if telling you that it was completely okay to rely on him because he loves it when you rely on him.

he absolutely loves going shopping with you. he gets the first look at new outfits, and he absolutely loves when you bring him to shop for new dresses. telling you to do a little twirl before complimenting you and how beautiful you looked. he always, always, ends up buying them all for you.

"so? how do i look?" you opened the door to the fitting room cubicle, showing yourself.

nanami had to hold back a smile from forming on his face, "turn around," he softly said — and when you did as he was told, the hem of your dress fluttering around as your body turns.

he finally broke into the smile, "you look beautiful." nanami compliments, taking your hand in his, "take the dress."

you chuckled, "ken, i already have two others. and you spent a lot on me — i don't want you to spend more on me."

nonsense.

nanami gets it for you unknowingly anyways, giving it to you on the walk back home from the mall. he always does that. always.

© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

[baldursgate3tempobsessed]

Astarion teaching Tav embroidery/sewing. Preferably with him dragging them onto his lap for a close-up demonstration.

Why do I make everything so long? Do I have a problem? There is always so much introspective nonsense idk man. Anyway adorable idea actualized below!

Also mentions of sex but this is totally sfw. I went with the timeline of when your sleeping together but he hasn't quite admitted his feelings to himself, as a side!

~

Astarion had no idea how he became your camp's designated seamstress. How was it possible that a team of eight adults were all incapable of knowing the basics of such a fundamental skill?

Then again, Karlach seemed to be perfectly fine with wearing her clothes to tatters. Wyll was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. Lae'zel, for some gods forsaken reason, was only capable of fixing up heavy armor. Gale seemed to prefer eating magical clothing items versus being able to salvage them and the rest were mediocre at best.

The look of confusion on Shadowheart's, who was the second most skilled by far, face when Astarion tried to explain a ladder stitch was enough for him to give up entirely. It was quicker to fix the tears then to explain simple concepts to simpletons.

Brats. All of you. With one who was significantly more brazen than the rest when it came to using Astarion as their personal tailor.

Tav, the lovely thorn in his side. Who could handle wielding a glaive with startingly accuracy, but somehow managed to consistently stab themselves every time they picked up a sewing needle. It was impressive, how useless someone who was otherwise extremely competent could be.

Impressive as it was frustrating. Because somehow you managed to destroy your clothes more often than anyone else. Always bashfully handing him over torn trousers and ripped shirts every other night. Anyone else he would have told to fuck off by now. Even the rest of the camp knew better than to test their luck with anything more than once a fortnight. But you lacked the very basic level of self-control.

It was his own fault for giving you special treatment in the first place. But sleeping together did warrant a few extra benefits. He got your protection and you got to experience the pleasure of being with him. Simple. Or it would have been if you didn't insist on making things complicated.

Because Astarion was starting to feel things. Things that he hadn't anticipated. Because your company was... oddly pleasant. You were an interesting little thing, he had to give you that. Well-read and talkative, but not boringly so. No, Astarion sometimes found himself losing track of time when he was with you. A simple question could easily turn into a two-hour conversation about the silliest things. It was... nice. New. And oh so different from what he was used to.

Cazador didn't even allow him or his brethren to speak in his home, let alone speak to each other unless it was strictly necessary. But here he was free to do whatever he pleased. And he was finding that included being near you, despite how differently you both saw the world.

He couldn't quite blame you for your delusional optimistic views. As a Tymora worshipper you were basically doomed from the start to believe inane concepts like good fortune, luck, and gods, the good that could be found in "anyone".

You were as sweet as you were aggravating and Astarion truly, honestly, had no idea how your insane trusting nature hadn't managed to get you killed yet. But then again he... kind of liked that about you. He liked that you trusted him. It made his life more convienet and... it was nice to be seen as a person worth confiding in. Instead of the blood-sucking monster he really was.

He... liked that. He liked you. A fact that he didn't enjoy thinking about. He didn't really know what to do with it, and the implications of where his feelings could lead were starting to become unsettling. So he pushed it out of his mind. It was an easy thing to do when doom was always looming in the background. He had plenty of things to think about that didn't include his fondness for you.

Like the inner-rage you caused when you managed to somehow rip the same shirt twice in one day.

"That's it," Astarion announced when you bashfully asked for his help yet again, "Come here. I'm teaching you how to sew."

"But you always get mad when you try," You whined. But despite the hesitancy you still obediently sat next to him as he got out the sewing kit, "Do you promise not to snap this time?"

"That depends," Astarion said with a roll of the eyes, "Do you intend on not maiming yourself with a sewing needle?"

Astarion smirked at the way that made a blush crawl up your neck, "That was one time!"

"Actually darling it was closer to seven," Astarion corrected as he snatched the shirt from your hands, "Now pay attention. Look at where the tear starts. Notice how it's on the seam?"

You nodded along as Astarion explained the basics to you. He could tell that you were trying your damndest to pay attention, but when it was your turn to hold the needle your hands couldn't stop shaking. Astarion frowned as he tried to watch you work, his view obfuscated by the angle and the flow of your hair.

Well that wouldn't do.

Before he could think better of it he was hauling you into his lap, ignoring your surprised squeak as he situated you just right.

That was better. At least now he could see what you were doing. It was a sloppy stich, sloppy enough for him to undo it before putting the needle back in your hand.

"Now do it again," Astarion ordered, "Let me see what your doing wrong."

Astarion watched as you tried again, frowning when he realized your shaking was even worse than before. In fact, you seemed more nervous than ever, your face red as you kept your eyes down.

It made Astarion torn between watching your hands and looking at your face. You really were adorable, getting all worked up from simply being in his lap, all while trying to stay dutifully undistracted. He could almost hear your heart racing, obvious through the tension coursing through you.

Silly little thing, acting all shy like he hadn't already literally been inside of you. But at least you were doing better, your stitching straighter than Astarion had ever seen it. Maybe he'd have to make the lap-sitting mandatory from now on, for the good of your learning.

"See," Astarion said softly, his breath tickling your ear as he leaned in closer, "You're perfectly capable of learning this."

"So it looks good?" You asked, taking a chance to glance at him. Astarion hadn't realized just how close the two of you really were. He had never... seen you like this before. So closely. Even when you slept together, he had been a bit distracted by other parts of your body. He never noticed just how many light freckles were hiding across the bridge of your nose, how your eyes looked almost golden in candlelight. You smelled nice too, sweet. Like you had been rolling around in a field of lilies. Considering your personality, Astarion had to wonder if that's exactly what you did.

It would take almost nothing to press your lips together. Barely a turn on the head.

"Astarion, are you listening?"

The sound of his voice snapped him out of his revelry. He straightened, clearing his throat as he looked over your work again, embarrassed in a way that he couldn't quite describe.

Maybe you weren't the only one being affected after all.

"It looks better," Astarion said honestly, "But still needs work. You'll almost certainly be needing more lessons."

Preferably like this. Astarion wasn't quite ready to let you go yet, not when you felt so pleasantly warm in his lap. But luckily enough for him, you didn't seem quite so keen to leave.

Astarion tightened his hold on you laughing at the way it made you gasp, "But that's enough for today. I think you've earned a reward. Don't you?"

"I-yes?" You said back, your eyes flitting from Astarion's mouth and back, "Please?"

You really were too precious. How could he possibly say no to that?

Astarion grinned as he tilted your chin up, finally pressing your lips together. It was an odd feeling, kissing someone when he couldn't stop smiling, but he supposed you just had that effect on him.

Maybe being the camp seamstress wasn't so bad after all.

[badgerbl00d]

captain's girl

☆ characters: akagami no shanks

☆ up next: tbd

☆ summary: shanks has always had a soft spot for you but as he spends more time around you that feeling intensifies- he's fallen, and hard.. how will he confess?

☆ a/n: i lost the ask that originally submitted this but i loved this prompt! so so cute and always lovely to write for my favorite captain.. shanks nation rise!

Shanks hadn’t slept in days. 

Shanks- an emperor, had been a pirate for decades and he knew well what it meant to be selfish. To be faced with all the treasure and beauty in the World and it not be enough until one had it all to himself. But he’d only ever seen it. In allies and enemies alike he had seen that corrupting burning want- no, need for something that drives one nearly mad. He’d seen fellow seamen be consumed by this bubbling and boiling desire that had always sickened him to think about.

And then there was you. Beautiful, strong-willed, and unafraid of pirates and men and danger and swords and, all of the sudden, he began feeling the symptoms of that dangerous selfishness. He’d watch you laugh with Benn, or cook with Lucky, or play cards with Yasopp and his chest would tighten. His nerves would begin to ebb and flow in uncertainty and the terrifyingly unfamiliar feeling of jealousy began to sprout within the captain of the Red Haired Pirates. He’d spend hours poring over a potential solution– something to make it go away. But everything he tried was useless. Any slight progress immediately crumbled the moment you walked by him. He’d found a nice girl on an island and flirted with her, buying her drinks, treating her special as the rest of the crew began to pour into the bar. It was working! She liked the same music as him and thought he was funny. But then you’d walked in with Beckman, your perfume immediately recognizable to him and he folded. You were entirely captivating to him, and bless him, he tried to listen to the girl in front of him and feign interest in what she was saying but all he could focus on was the sound of you laughing and thanking the men who were sending drinks your way. On a separate occasion, he’d taken a different approach. You were in a particularly cheeky mood and not the most prone to taking orders, so he got frustrated. He leant into that frustration, barking at you for not listening. But you just rolled your eyes and begrudgingly got up to do what he was asking. As you walked past him, you raked a fingernail across his chest and offered assistance if he needed “any help de-stressing.” And with a wink you were off. After that little incident, he could hardly sleep and was quite literally plagued by (very inappropriate) thoughts of you and decided it would be best if he didn’t do anything for a while. This had been going on for months now.  A one sided game of cat and mouse that Shanks did not want to be playing, after all, he wasn't used to playing the role of mouse. Shanks was a man who always got what he wanted.

But he was realizing there was no escape. Constantly you teased him, tempted him, lured him, all to act like nothing the next moment. His head was spinning. Just this morning, you ran into him at breakfast and asked if he wanted to go into town with you. He came up with some half assed excuse and tried his hardest to keep his composure when you pouted at his and said, “Pretty please?” He went up and moped in his office, going over all those moments when he felt that now familiar ache in his chest– that throbbing pain that felt like his swollen heart was being mushed up against his ribcage and had been making his daily life on the ship, oh, so inconvenient. 

Like a few months ago when, in your typical fashion, you’d put together a small band out of the rag-tag musicians on the crew. An upright bass player out of your intel gatherer, a drummer out of one of Hongo’s assistants, some brass players that you put through a very selective audition, and, of course, you as the singer. He remembers walking out after having a few drinks with those of his men that he was closest with and hearing the sound of your voice singing a soft jazz tune. ‘I wish you bluebirds, in the spring…..’ his heart picking up a bit, and him leaning over to look at the band playing, ‘To give your heart a song to sing, and then a kiss…’ Him rushing down the stairs and urging the crew to dance, asking Lucky to get behind the bar and start making cocktails and drinks, ‘But more than this, I wish you love’ anything so that he could sit and listen to you. He remembers the boyish surge of energy that coursed through him when you shot him a playful wink. A thank you for entertaining your antics and encouraging your little band of criminal musicians. 

Or last week, when you stopped by his office (he’d begun spending more and more time locked in there attempting to find reprieve from your presence which was quickly becoming all too much for him to be around) and knocked on his door in the way you always knocked on any door. Three rhythmic little taps, always quiet and polite. “Come in!” he’d said, forcing his voice to steady itself like his heart wasn’t crawling up into his throat. “Hey Shanks– I have something for you.” You made your way to his desk, dropping a little parcel on it before going to lay down on the couch in his office, a seat he always kept open for you. It was just an old leather chair, but he knew how much you liked it. He opened up the parcel, watching you pull out a cigarette and bring it to your lips, holding it droopily between them as you dug around in your jacket for a lighter. He finished unwrapping the gift, a compass falling out. Gold and the initials R.H.S. engraved in the back. The glass had been carved out so that it was angular and there was a detailed inking of the ocean in the back, and the north arrow was dark red. He turned it over in his palm, “R.H.S.?” he asked. “It’s funny, huh! Red-Hair-Shanks,” you laughed, “It made Benny crack up so I snatched it. They wanted $15,000 for it! Like hell was I gonna pay that…. Hey, do you have a lighter?” You walked back over to him, leaning on his desk, looking down at his face, batting your eyes at him all doe-like. He felt like he might faint. 'Benny' he felt a pang of jealousy but smiled to himself at the nickname. Beckman hated nicknames but you'd started calling him Benny and for the first time ever there was no protest from the man's lips. You'd wiggled your way into all their hearts like that- helping Lucky with groceries and keeping Yasopp company when he drank more than he could stand.

“Sure do, sweetheart,” he maintained his typical flirty cadence but failed to sound as confident as he usually does. You shot him a look. He sheepishly handed you the lighter but instead of taking it you leant over further, beckoning for him to light the cigarette for you. He swallowed and brought the lighter up to the cigarette, the two of you making eye contact as he lit it. You blew a playful puff of smoke at him before making your way back over to the sofa. You laid across it, kicking your shoes off and pulling a magazine from his shelf. “Playboy? Really?” He gave you an embarrassed grin and shrugged. You made a mental note that this magazine had been left open on a photo of a bikini-clad girl that looked an awful like you. Pervert, you thought. You put the magazine away and sunk further into the chair, taking long drags of the cigarette, filling up the room with smoke. Shanks was trying not to stare a hole through you and limited himself from looking over in your general direction. You were so at peace, your legs draped over the arm of the chair and your hands above your head.  An hour passed like this, the two of you sharing a silence that was only peaceful on your end. Shanks sat at his desk pretending to be deeply interested in a blank piece of paper and mulled over possible topics of conversation. He was trying not to beat himself up over his newfound shyness- he was like a teenage boy talking to a girl for the first time. When he finally got the courage to ask you about your most recent errand he was cut off before he could even start.

“Y/n!!! Help me with dinner, eh?!”

Lucky. You groaned sitting up, remembering that you’d promised to help him out with tonight’s dinner last week. “Sorry, Captain,” you said, putting your shoes back on, “I’d love to stay and fog up your office a bit more but duty calls.” 

He nodded and got up, nearly running into you. “Ah, sorry princess,” he said, guiding you gently out of the room with a hand on your back. 

“Try not to miss me,” you’d said, taking the cigarette out of your mouth and placing it in his. He furrowed his brows in equal amounts of confusion and sexual frustration. “Lucky won’t let me smoke in the kitchen,” you explained. You shot him a wink and were off. 

He took a short puff of the cigarette before taking it out and staring at it between his fingers. Your red lipstick stained the end of it. He took a very self indulgent inhale before setting it down on an ashtray in his office. It was the first time he’d smoked in a while.

He hadn’t remembered it feeling so good.

He was late to dinner that night and even Benn had indicated some degree of worry about his captain, asking if he was alright. 

Shanks knew this couldn’t last forever– that he would have to do something before he lost his ability to lead his ship entirely. But then, of course, there was what happened yesterday.

Some rookie pirates had convinced themselves it would be a good idea to try and loot your ship. You’d been out on the deck helping Beckman with some chores when the first group of them climbed overboard. Neither of you had particularly expressive reactions– after all, you could tell within a few seconds that they were neither strong nor experienced. Still, it was the general attitude of the Red Hair Pirates to avoid conflict as much as possible. So when they wrapped rope around your wrists and held knives to your throats you and Benn didn’t flinch. Some newer recruits had sounded the alarm which eventually led to the rest of the crew making their way lazily out onto the deck. Shanks emerged from his office, reading glasses still on and laughed at the sight.

“Yasopp– take a pic, will ya!?” he laughed, slapping him on the back, “Benny we’re gonna hang this up in the dining hall!”

Benn rolled his eyes and you smiled. It took another several moments before you realized that your body was feeling more and more weakened by the moment, but when you finally felt a dullness creeping up your legs you noticed that the man holding you was a devil fruit user. The Neru Neru no Mi you believed it was called, Sleep Sleep Fruit. Fatigue started to wash over you and you stumbled forward slightly. The laughter on the ship immediately ceased and Benn called your name. You tried responding but instead fell back, landing against your assailant's chest. Yasopp and Lucky both brought their hands to their pistols, and Benn had taken a more offensive stance though it was clear the effect was starting to weigh on him as well. 

“We’ll kill them both,” one of the looters had yelled. Yasopp shot Shanks a look, waiting for some kind of command. “Yasopp–” Shanks started, but he hesitated a moment. If his sniper made any kind of mistake it would be your life taken instead. Before he could react, your captor had drawn the knife down your arm, smirking at the cry of pain you let out as your arm was coated in red. “Shoot him,” he said, gaze turning black. You passed out, though whether it was from the pain or the effect of Shanks’ emperor’s haki on your weakened body was unclear. But the last thing you saw before blacking out was the haunting anger on Shanks’ face.

You woke up a bit later, your head throbbing and your arm bandaged. “Holy shit,” you muttered, “What happened?” Hongo and Beckman were sitting by your bed talking to each other and Lucky, Yasopp, and a few others were playing cards. 

"You passed out from the effects of the devil fruit," Benn explained, "And you got a nasty cut on your arm. But Hongo says you'll be healed up by the weekend."

You blushed, somewhat embarrassed that you were the only one to have been injured. "What happened to the other crew?"

Benn shot you a half-smile. An expressive mixture of pride and shame. "The Captain took care of it. Honestly all we could do was watch, we all know better than to get in his way when he gets like that. Never seen this ship so bloody, that's for sure."

You grimaced, "Suppose they won't be messing with us again?"

Benn laughed, "Definitely not."

“Hey, Y/n!” Lucky called out, “Want anything to eat?”

You sat up, pushing yourself to the edge of the bed and grabbing the glass of water Benn offered you, “Yeah, Luck. I’ll take anything, honestly. Where is Shanks?” Benn sighed and looked over at Yasopp who was giggling like a twelve-year old. You got the message. 

“Maybe we should tell him it’s obvious? And it’ll fix things?” 

Benn shook his head and leant back in his chair, “Nah, it would crush the guy. Maybe if you say something to him, though?” You thought about it for a minute. You'd talked with each other before about the captain's feelings. How he acted every time he was around you. Benn added that he'd never seen him like that before, "Buggy's given us stories about how he used to be around girls. He'd run the other way when a pretty lady talked to him. He's obviously gotten over it since then but it's sort of nice to see him like this."

"Can't blame him," Yasopp added, winking at you, "You're about the prettiest thing on the sea."

Yasopp was still laughing about it, over a game of cards with Lucky and Hongo. You appreciated their company while you rested.

“I don’t know guys. You know I love him just as much but will it be weird? I mean– no offense, but this ship isn’t really the ideal romantic setting. And what if he plays favorites?”

They all laughed at this, “He already is, sweetheart!”

“Just tell him!”

“We’ll have a big ol’ wedding!”

You rolled your eyes and asked to be dealt into the card game they were playing. Lucky came back with a bowl of soup for you. Laughter was filling up the small medical room and it echoed down the hall...  

Shanks’ crush on you was astoundingly obvious and what was more surprising was how he had been moping about it for the past four months. He was now in his room, shrouded in embarrassment. Half of it stemmed from the generally well known fact that Shanks and his crew were untouchable- or at least, should be. And the other, perhaps greater, half from the fact that you'd ended up hurt because he’d hesitated. It also didn't help that he had doubted Yasopp at all- he knew he never missed. He’d spent the evening drinking a bottle of whiskey to himself and replaying other embarrassing faux pas he’d committed in front of you. The bottle of empty whiskey sat in front of him on the desk and the sun had long set. He got up, feeling miserable, and decided to head to bed. He grabbed the empty bottle, pausing before he grabbed it. Your cigarette from a week ago sat in the mauve ceramic ashtray on his desk (also a gift from you– you’d said it reminded you of his “ugly pants”). He stared at the lipstick still staining the white paper on the end of the cigarette. His chest tightened and he looked out the window of his office. You were out on deck, your arm bandaged up, hauling some rope into a metal bin. He smiled to himself- an injury like that was no excuse for chores. You looked gorgeous. A white glow surrounded you from the beaming moonlight up above. Your hair was messy and flowed freely around your face shifting the shadows that fell on it. He knew, suddenly, that he had to talk to you. That in all his embarrassment and emotion and confusion about his feelings, he’d neglected to check up on you. He set the bottle down and grabbed the half-smoked cigarette, slipping it into his pocket. He paused at the door, momentarily enjoying the nerves that were coursing through his body. How long had it been since he last felt excitement like this? There were moments at sea where he realized that, thanks to his age and experience, he no longer felt those pangs and throes of youthful worry and excitement. But this? This was new and he was reeling like never before. He was submerged in uncharted waters and all of a sudden that spark of adventure that follows every pirate flared up inside him. Shanks closed the door to his office behind him, taking a deep breath. 

You wrapped up the rest of the rope and threw it into the container, before taking a seat on it. Closing your eyes and taking a moment to yourself. It was rare to have a night so quiet. You could hear the faint sound of laughter and talking coming from below the deck. The ship was slowly rocking back and forth.

“Mind if I sit next to you?”

You blinked your eyes open to see Shanks standing in front of you. It still surprised you how a man of his size and power could sneak up on you so easily. It was a nice reminder of how in control he actually was of everything around him. It put you at ease to know you were in such responsible hands and guidance. 

“You feel ok? It’s my fault I should’ve–”

You smiled at him, “What? This? I’m fine, Captain– I’ve dealt with much worse, that I can promise you.” He frowned at that, “That’s not a good thing, Y/n. I don’t like thinking about you getting hurt.” You shrugged and ruffled his hair, “I’m a pirate. A Red-Hair Pirate. It’s bound to happen. And you’re not perfect either. Believe it or not. What’s going on with you lately? So sappy.” You knew very well what was going on with him.

Shanks smiled and looked down at the floor. This was it. Now or never. 

“Y/n… You know that, well, women love me and- and that I love women,” he started. Your smile dropped. 

“M-hm.”

“Uh,” he rubbed his neck sheepishly, like a child getting scolded, “Well, I guess what I’m trying to say is that you’re not like other women.”

You looked at him, “Are you sure about that?” You looked unamused. He steeled himself– he was an emperor of the sea, goddamnit, you were just a woman! Just a girl on his crew.

He knew that was a lie.

You were his girl on his crew. And he was being eaten alive by your existence, completely consumed by the thought of you. He couldn’t live another day without relieving himself of his constant torture and the emotional suffering you put him through. He couldn’t wake up another morning without you next to him, begging him to sleep in a bit longer and asking him to hold you tighter. He couldn’t spend another night watching you laugh and smile and be the most beautiful, enchanting thing in the world and not call you his. You were his, not through ownership but through love. 

“Alright! Damn it, woman, you’re so intimidating.” Your smile returned. 

“I love you,” he sighed. It wasn’t as dramatic as either of you had pictured. He said it like he was simply reminding you.

“I love you, Y/n. And I have for months. Since I first saw you– since you first started giving me random antique shop gifts and coming into my office at the most inconvenient times and filling it up with smoke. I can’t look at the color red and not think of you. That’s my color, damn it! And yet– I see red and think of the brand of cigarettes you like and the lipstick you wear and the way your laughter sounds and the color of your nail polish. I can’t listen to music and not think of you. I mean- you’ve come on board and turned everything upside down. My men, my violent men, are playing jazz on Thursday nights! Lucky’s new favorite thing to drink is Cosmopolitans and Yasopp is taking daily showers and, christ, Benn’s new nickname is Benny and he likes it! Everything I have reminds me of you. This is basically your ship now. And I love it. I love how you're everywhere. And I- I need you. I want you but it's more than that- I need you.”

He took a deep breath and looked at you for the first time in weeks. You laughed- at him, and grabbed his hand. His cheeks turned bright red and he felt like a teenager again. You squeezed his hand, “F-i-n-a-l-l-y.” He took a moment to sound out your spelling, and smiled somewhat defeatedly. He laid his head down on your shoulder and mumbled into you, “Was it obvious?”

 You wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned your head against his. It was refreshing to touch him without it being strange or feeling unnatural. To just hold one another and understand that that was all it was– a touch. That before either of you said anything and broke this mundane, normal silence everything was perfect. There was no room for mistake or anxiety or insecurity. There was just the mass of red hair on your shoulder ticking your neck and your arms wrapped around his. But you figured he’d suffered long enough. 

“Very,” you said, answering his question, “There’re a bunch of betting pools regarding when, and if, you’ll confess. Though you don’t make a great effort to hide it. Looks like Benny’s gonna make some cash tonight.”

He shot up, somewhat offended, “I do hide it! I’ve kept my distance from you and treated you like everyone else.”

You laughed and sat him down on the bin next to you, “No, you haven’t. I’m your favorite. And though you have been avoiding me, when you’re around me your face is pink and you lose all that playboy gusto you think the ladies like. Plus you have those magazines lying around. It flatters me how much I resemble some of those models.”

His mouth fell open at this, realizing he had left it wide out in the open. You smiled at this, but said nothing. It was quiet out again– everyone had gone to bed early, tired from the day’s commotion, an unexpected change of pace from the typical mundane life of a pirate at sea that normally consisted of chores upon chores upon chores. The sea was calm tonight, almost eerily so. You rested your head against Shank’s shoulder and closed your eyes, it was quiet again. You could tell he was itching for a response. You smiled, enjoying the effect you had on him.

“I love you, too.”

You felt Shanks tense and opened your eyes, turning to look at him. He had a stupidly large smile plastered on his face. He was so damn handsome. His hand slid up your back and came to rest on your neck. He gently pushed your face toward his, a smile creeping up your lips, and tested the waters. You closed the gap, closing your eyes as you kissed your captain, shifting forward and finding your way onto his lap. Your arms wrapped tightly around his neck and you could feel him smiling against your lips. Shanks broke the kiss, pulling away after giving you a few more pecks. 

His arm sank down to wrap around your waist and pull you in even tighter. He rested his forehead against yours and looked down at your lips, plump from the kissing.

“You’re mine,” he said. 

“Yours.”

He sighed, relief flooding his body. You rubbed his neck, "Guess I wasn't as obvious as you, hm?" He laughed and squeezed your hand, "No. God, I was terrified. What an awful feeling."

You smiled. You were getting tired, and your arm was throbbing. "Wanna come with me to see Hongo? I think my arm should get re-wrapped." He nodded, standing up. You walked toward the infirmary, while Shanks stood back for a moment. Waiting awkwardly.

"Shanks?"

His name had never sounded so lovely. He was worried, "Should we tell people yet? The crew- I mean."

You laughed, and kept walking, "I think they'll figure out on their own. After all, I suspect that I'll be greeting them tomorrow morning with your shirt on."

He watched you walk on ahead a bit more before following after you, scooping you up in his arm and pressing kisses to your face. Shanks dropped you off outside of Hongo's door, letting you go in on your own. 'I want tonight to be just us,' you'd explained. Word does travel quickly on a ship. He waited outside the door, listening to you and Hongo talk while he rebandaged your arm. His chest felt warm and full, not with the previous tightness he'd experienced but full with satisfaction.

A familiar ebbing flow of egoism spread through his body. It was nice to be reminded of who he was. An emperor of the sea with one of the highest bounties of all time. A man feared and respected across the world. Wanted by the world government and untouchable to anyone. Almost anyone. Your voice bubbled up over the sound of his thoughts for a moment. His confidence had quickly reinstated itself.

After all, Shanks was a man who always got what he wanted.

[monzabee]

the name game – cl16

masterlist

Summary: The one where you and Charles try to get through one of the first hardships of parenthood.

Pairing: charles leclerc x reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: pregnancy (and pregnancy symptoms), crying, angst but also tooth rotting fluff

Request: “Can I request Charles and his girlfriend or fiancé having a baby? And they are talking about names and she suggest her ex boyfriends name to piss him off and he gets really upset and mad. And they then tlak about last names and she tells him she wants their baby to have her name and he is not happy about that or hyphenating as he feels strongly about his family name” 

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! i’m so happy to be back after a month of exams, and what better way to kick it off with a charles fic?? the whole concept was extremely cute and i loved it so much, but i kind of wanted there to be a chaotic aspect to it?? thank you anon for your request, and i hope you guys enjoy this one! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

Some people keep saying that the hardest part of pregnancy is the first trimester, some say that the hardest part is actually giving birth because, well – it’s quite literally pushing a baby from right there. But to you, the hardest part is not the nausea, or the possible pain of giving birth, or the sleepless nights to come, no. To you, the hardest part is deciding on what to name your baby. Everyone around you seems to have an opinion on what to name the baby, of course, and with the increasing amount of (sometimes uncalled) suggestions coming from you from all around, you and Charles find yourselves in the middle of a never ending game of name the baby.

“Alfred?” Charles suggests, raising his head from his phone.

The suggestion gets a groan, you shake your head to let him know that it’s definitely not the name. “Excuse me, are we about to raise Batman’s butler?”

“Good point,” he nods his head, “we are Marvel people anyway.”

“You guys are useless at this, you know that right?” Arthur scoffs, raising an eyebrow at the two of you. “Why don’t you wait until the baby is actually born? Many people say that it’s easier to name a baby that way.”

“And how do you know these people?” Charles asks, eyes narrowing at the edges.

Arthur raises his hands on the either side of his face in mock surrender. “Touché.” He takes a moment to think, “Why do you only looking at boy’s names? I thought you didn’t want to learn the gender until the birth.”

“We don’t,” you affirm, slowly perching yourself on the barstool next to Charles, “Charles just thinks that it’s going to be a boy.”

Arthur watches as his older brother nods while smiling proudly, then shares a look with you which screams, He knows there’s a fifty-percent chance, right? You shake your head as you shrug, turning your attention back to your phone. “Oh, oh! What about Luka?”

“Luka,” Charles repeats, and tests the name coming out of his lips, “Luka Leclerc?” His watches as you give him a bright smile as you nod repeatedly.

“It does have a nice ring to it,” Arthur comments from his place on the couch as he abandons the book filled with baby names in his hands.

“Luka.” Charles repeats the name again, but as he looks into your expectant eyes, he can feel a nudging at the back of his mind. Luka, Luka, Luka – has he met someone with the same name before? Well, probably, he thinks. He does meet a lot of people during his day to day life, not to mention the race weekends. He decides to let go of the worry, establishing in his mind that he probably met a fan with the same name– “No, chérie! We can’t use Luka!”

“What?” You ask him with a small pout on your lips, “Why not?”

“You dated a guy named Luka, remember?” He reminds you, expecting you to catch onto what he’s saying. “Chérie, it was right before we dated!” You look at him in confusion as you try to piece what he’s saying together, but Charles just looks at you in disbelief, “I can’t believe you want to name our baby after a guy you dated!”

“But–” You start, eyebrows furrowing together as you try and make yourself remember. “That can’t be true.”

“I’m telling you,” Charles turns to Arthur, raises his eyebrows as he looks at his brother for support, “Arthur tell her that I’m correct.”

Arthur chooses to throw him the pillow he takes from behind him. “How should I know the guy she dated before you, you idiot?”

“Would it kill you to be on my side for a change?” Charles deadpans.

You tune out the rest of their argument, still trying to remember whether Charles is actually correct or not – the pregnancy hormones definitely not helping you on your case. “Wait!” You exclaim, making both of the brothers to turn towards you. “I never dated a guy named Luka,” you raise a finger towards Charles to shut him up before he even gets a chance to speak, “let me rephrase that. I never dated a guy named Luka, because the last guy I went on a date with before we got together was Lucas.”

Charles’ voice is tentative as he asks “Lucas?”

“Yes, you idiot.” You roll your eyes at him, “Why would I try to name our baby after a guy I went on one date with?”

Arthur nods in support of you, “You have to admit you overreacted, Charles.”

“Okay, you? You zip it.” Charles snaps at his brother and then turns to you. “I’m sorry, chérie, but I thought it was Luka.”

“Well it wasn’t,” you cross your arms over your chest, “and don’t tell your brother to zip it, he’s right!” You let out a chuckle as you share a look with Arthur as Charles watches the both of you let out chuckles at his expense.

He lets his eyes narrow and he silently watches as the two of you make fun of him for his outburst. He only talks when your laughter is dying down, “Are you guys done?”

“Oh come on, darling, it was cute.” You lean towards him to link your fingers between his.

He raises one of his eyebrows as he asks, “So you wouldn’t react the same way if I just did that?”

“Oh, Charles, don’t–” Arthur warns him, but you quickly stop him.

“No, no,” you bite back a smile, “continue, my love.”

“As I was saying,” Charles gives his brother a pointed look and then turns his attention back to you, “you wouldn’t react the same way if I wanted to name our future child ‘Charlotte’?”

“Excuse me?” You stutter, frowning as your expression turns into a pout. You wait for a moment for Charles to realise what he’s just said, but when he fails to do so, you prompt him by asking, “How is that similar to what just happened? And why would you bring her into this in the first place?”

Charles shakes his head in disbelief, “How is it not?”

Arthur gets up from his place on the couch and pretends to yawn as he stretches his arms over his head, “You know what, I’m feeling kinda tired maybe I should go home.”

“You sit right back down on that couch, Arthur Leclerc.” You point a finger at him despite having your attention solely focused on your fiancé sitting in front of you, and not on the poor boy who tried to get away from the inevitable fight you and Charles are going to get into.

He lets himself fall back on the couch as he groans and presses a pillow over his face as he mumbles, “Here we go again.”

“I hope you know that these two situations are not similar to each other – like at all.” You emphasise for Charles, “I can’t believe you would even say that!”

There is a clear look of bewilderment in Charles’ eyes as he asks, “You dated ‘Lucas’, I dated Charlotte, how is it not the same?”

“I went on one date with the guy, didn’t date him for three whole years, that’s not the same, you idiot!” You exclaim as you quickly press your hand against your chest as you glare at Charles. “I can’t believe you couldn’t see that, God, Charles! You do this, you always do this!”

Maybe under different circumstances, Charles would have acted a bit smarter. He is, after all, a smart man, he prides himself of being one, but being the absolutely stupid man he is, he asks, “Do what?”

Arthur turns back from the couch, almost breaking his back in the process as his eyes widen in shock as well as he gives his brother a look which screams, How more stupid can you be, you dumbass? In an attempt to diffuse the tension, which is building between the two of you, he recommends, “How about we focus something other than the baby’s name, like the theme of the nursery?”

 “Fairy tales,” you answer at the same time Charles chimes, “Racing cars.”

“Okay I take that back.” Arthur mumbles as he watches you and Charles throw glares at each other. “Let’s just stop talking about the baby? It’s clear that the two of you are set on having all the fights you didn’t have before deciding to have a baby.”

Charles lets out a supportive sound. “We clearly suck at discussion right now, this is starting to turn into the argument we had about you taking my surname.”

“Are- are you serious right now?” You stutter once again, eyes widened with surprise. “You are so obstinate, Charles! You refuse to see the right when you’re in the wrong and you refuse to compromise!” You voice is coming more of as a groan now that he’s opened that door. “We didn’t need to have that argument, because i’ve been telling you that I am hyphenating my surname.”

He lets out a similar groan, as he tries to reason, “I just don’t understand why–”

“So our children can have your name, but they can’t have mine?” You raise an eyebrow in warning, eyes narrowing on the edges as you look at your fiancé with suspicion.

“No,” he retorts, trying to defend himself, “I never said I didn’t want the baby, or our future children, to have your surname, I said I just wanted them to have mine.”

You let out a humourless laugh at his reasoning, “So I’m just supposed to lose a big part of myself when we get married, is that it?”

Charles immediately feels a wave of guilt wash over him as he realizes the impact of his words. He jumps up from his seat and rushes over to you, kneeling down in front of you as he gently takes your hands in his. “Well, no– I didn’t mean it like that–”

“I think I know what you’ve meant, Charles.” You voice is shaky as you mumble the next words, “Can you just help me get up, please?”

“What?” Charles asks, motioning his brother to stand back. “Why?”

“Because I can’t stand up on my own, I’m six-months pregnant!” You exclaim, the tears finally start falling down your cheeks. “And it’s all because of you!”

In hindsight, Charles should’ve foreseen the way his words would cause such a commotion in your relationship – given the fact that the two of you have talked about it before. As the weight of his insensitivity settles in, a new wave of panic washes over Charles – he just couldn't shake the thought that his thoughtless words might push you away. And he knows he should’ve listened to Arthur’s warnings before, and probably should have used better words to express his feelings instead of saying things he didn’t mean in the first place; but then again, he’s never been too good at it in the first place. After receiving a very lengthy lecture from Arthur what to say, or rather what not to say, to a hormonal pregnant woman, he left the apartment the two of you share in a hurry to find you. Despite the logical side of his brain constantly remind him of the fact that you know the city well enough to not get lost, the nagging voice at the back of his mind reminded him of the worst things that could have happened both to the love his life and his baby. So imagine his frustration when you don’t answer any of his calls as he frantically rides around the city in hopes of finding you and apologising like he should’ve before you got out of the door.

After dialling your number for the umpteenth time that night, he releases a relaxed breath when you finally answer his call. “Mon amour, I am so sorry, I didn’t mean–”

“Charles?” He hears your voice play through the car play speakers, “Oh, Charles, I did something bad.”

“Y/N.” Charles can swear his heart stops for a moment, he pulls the car over quickly to give you his undivided attention. “Talk to me, love, what’s wrong? Where are you?”

“I didn’t mean to do it, it was an accident–”

“Chérie, please tell me what happened.” He pleads, hands gripping the steering wheel tighter with anxiety. “Where are you? I’ll come to get you.”

He hears you take a shaky breath as you mumble your next words, “I accidentally ordered both raspberry and lemon ice cream, and I can’t finish both.”

“I- darling,” Charles lets out another relieved breath, “I’m coming to get you now, okay? Just wait for me.”

Your voice is sheepish as you mumble, but the small sniffle Charles hears through the speakers is enough to make his heart clench. “Okay, can you please bring me my blanket?”

“Of course I will, just stay there okay?” He mumbles as he starts up the car again, “I love you.”

“Thank you, darling, I love you too.”

Some of the anxiety he has been feeling about your brief disappearance ease with the enlightment as Charles begins to drive towards the small ice cream parlour near your apartment. Of course, you were right around the corner when he was looking for you throughout the entire city; and of course, he should have known you’d crave ice cream after eight o’clock. Thankfully, it doesn’t take him long to get to you, and he remembers to grab the blanked you keep in the car for when you get cold during night drive the two of you go on frequently.

He finds you sitting at one of the tables right near the door, sitting by yourself as you eye the cup in front of you with a small pout on your face. “Chérie.”

“Charles.” You mumble, meeting his eyes as you exhale a deep breath. “You found me.”

“Well to be fair, love, you’re right around the corner from our home.” He drapes the blanked across your shoulders before settling next to you. A small smile forms of his face when you push the small cup towards him. “You got lemon ice cream?”

You sigh sadly as you wrap the blanket around you tighter, “I couldn’t get far because the baby wouldn’t let me, and she wanted ice cream – and it’s habit, Leclerc.” You scowl at him, quickly adding, “I’m still mad at you.” You let out a frustrated groan when you find him smirking covertly, “What?”

“You called the baby a ‘she’.” He points out, grabbing the spoon and getting some of the ice cream on his spoon, “You think it’s going to be a girl.”

“I- I- no!” You gasp as you watch him bring the spoon to his mount and gives you a dimpled smile, “You stop that right now, Charles Marc Hervé Perceval Leclerc!” You reach over to hit his arm lightly, “I’m still very much mad at you.”

“I know,” he responds grimly, “we have to talk about what happened.” He laces his fingers against yours as he takes your hand on his arm in his, “I didn’t mean anything I said, I am so sorry.”

You let out a deep sigh, eyes softening around the edges, “I need you to understand that I don’t want to lose a part of myself just because we are getting married and starting a family, Charles.” You shake your head lightly as you give him a sad smile, “Do you know how it makes me feel when you say that you want our children to have only your surname?”

“I do.” Charles replies, but after receiving the look from you, he adds, “I mean – I do, now.”

“Charles,” you begin, “I love you, and I love that we get to go on this journey together, but I am not giving up my name. And I want our children to have both of our names.”

“I’m sorry, chérie, I don’t know why I said that.” Charles looks at you with a sad look.

“Your feelings are important to me,” you tell him, “I need you to know that.”

His eyes widen in surprise, “I know that, oh God. I do know that, Y/N.” He presses a small kiss to your conjoined hands, “And you have to admit, love, Y/N-Leclerc sounds great.”

“Thank you,” you let out breathily, eyes brimming with tears, “I love you.”

“I love you too, chérie.” Charles’ smile turns into a mischievous one, “So you think the baby is going to be a girl?”

“Shut up, Perceval.” You bite back a smile as you bring your hands on your belly, “I just hope she has your dimples and not your anger threshold.”

[norrizzandpia]

Hurt Me Once (OP81)

Summary: In which they just miss the childhood best friends to lovers trope.

Warnings: ANGSTTTT im so sorry ong this one’s REALLY rough so have fun!!!!

Note: i have a feeling i already know the answer but lmk if you want a part 2 lol

UPDATE: i made part 2

I’m sure it was nothing, but you never used to bring somebody else along. Used to be our thing, going to a movie then we’d wander home.

“We still on for tonight?” Y/n asked Oscar, the boy sitting on the couch as he furiously tapped away at his phone.

He threw a quick glance her way, nodding in a disregarded manner, “Yeah,”

Her response was hesitant. She knew he wasn’t listening to her, he hadn’t been for a considerable amount of time.

“Oscar,” She smiled, her voice slightly pleading.

With another useless glance, he asked, “Yes?”

“Are you hearing me?” She tried, fake smile struggling to stay put.

He nodded, annoyed, “Yes, I did. We’re still on for tonight at 8 PM. We’ll meet at the movie theater down at the corner. Do you need me to be any more specific?” He snapped, phone being tossed aggressively down onto the coffee table in front of him as his fiery eyes finally met hers.

She physically took a step back, surprised by his shift in demeanor, “No, it’s fine. I’ll see you.”

He didn’t respond as she turned on her heels and made a quick move for the door, mumbling some excuse about needing to go the grocery store.

They both knew she had gone the day before.

—

She could see her breath leaving her mouth as she walked toward the neon signs. London winters were always her favorite. With beautiful, straight-white snow, she felt a certain type of comfort when she could gaze out any window from anywhere in the city and be met with a picturesque view.

However, for once this season, her view was quite the opposite. As her feet brought her closer to the entrance of the theater, her eyes were able to make out Oscar, the man she was supposed to be meeting and the man she loved, standing next to a random woman she had never seen before.

Her stomach dropped when she heard the way he said her name and the way he laughed at her jokes, something he hadn’t done with Y/n in a long time.

It was as if she was invisible by the way she stood awkwardly beside them, “Hey,” She had to say in order to gain either one of their attention.

The woman was pulled from her ogling state, but Oscar stayed, longingly staring at someone Y/n had never met.

Her brown eyes bore into Y/n’s as she gave a tight-lipped smile, “Are you Y/n?”

Nodding slowly, Y/n’s eyes darted to Oscar’s, wishing for him to acknowledge her, “Yeah. I’m sorry if this is rude, but who are you?”

“This is Lily, Y/n.” Oscar mumbled, finally gracing his best friend with some sort of recognition.

Her mouth fell open in faux realization, “Oh, nice to meet you.”

The girl, Lily as she now knew, nodded before Oscar was ushering the two women in and pulling out their tickets.

“Were you going to tell me someone else was joining us?” Y/n asked a little later when Lily had gone to secure their seats in the old theater and the two best friends had agreed to gather snacks.

As he pulled out his wallet in preparation, almost as if he couldn’t wait to not be alone with her, Oscar shook his head in disbelief, “Didn’t know I needed to. Was this just supposed to be us?”

“It always has been.” She shot back, a little too pointededly to go unnoticed by Oscar.

His eyes whipped around to meet hers, “So? We never made a pact or anything that it always had to be. I thought it wouldn’t be a big deal, but apparently it is.” His annoyance only grew seemingly, making Y/n feel like she was never really wanted in the first place.

Nodding slowly, she pushed the disappointment down, “No, it’s okay. It’s fine. I get it.”

The words practically died in her throat as she didn’t want to know the answer, but she forced them out anyway, “Do you like her?”

“Why do you think I brought her?”

And just like that, Y/n’s spirit was killed.

—

All these little landmines, all these little things that one can read two ways. Like when you take every call outside, seems that I’ve forgotten how to read your face, but I know you too well to get it wrong. If you have to hurt me, hurt me once. If you have to end it, get it done. You have all these choices, I have none. You’re all that I have to lose. Couldn’t hurt you if I wanted to. I’ve decided on you.

“I thought that maybe we could do something soon. Just you and me, you know? I feel like we haven’t gotten to hangout just us lately.” She tried, finally getting up the nerve to bring it all to his attention.

“What do you mean?” He asked, mouth full with the leftovers from last night. A celebratory dinner she had made for him in order to commemorate his sprint race win, but had been squashed as she set the dish out when he called and told her he was going out with Lily instead.

She shrugged, “I just mean that I feel like we haven’t hung out without Lily lately and, as much as I love her,” She forced out, “I- I mean, Osc, I miss yo-”

“Hold on one second. I have to take this.” He rushed out, bringing a hand up as to stop Y/n in the middle of her heartfelt sentence.

“Lily!” He exclaimed as he left the room and went out onto the patio, a certain kind of excitement she hadn’t heard in a long time.

She watched, observed if you will, as his smile widened and his gestures got incredibly theatric. While, a year ago, Y/n would’ve been certain that those traits meant he was overjoyed by the moment taking place, but, now, it was almost as if she didn’t know him. Sure, she could be pretty confident that he was happy with talking to Lily, but there was a specific, deep feeling of uncertainty. A large hole in the middle of her stomach as she looked at the man she had grown to love years ago and felt conflicted. There was adoration and longing, but there was also an overwhelming sense of disappointment and loneliness. Disappointment because she didn’t know who this was, the Oscar who was her best friend and the Oscar she was so scarily in love with just wasn’t fully there anymore. Loneliness because, throughout it all, he had been there for her, but, as she sat on a stool with the empty one staring back at her, Y/n’s mind came to the understanding that this was how it would end.

All those times she would worry about Oscar and her growing apart were in vain as she realized that the way they would lose each other was because he lost interest in her.

The worst part, the most painful piece of the puzzle, was that there was nothing she could do. The day when he woke up and realized he had so many better people in his company than some random girl from his math class in boarding school was approaching.

The bowl of pasta sitting beside her, a symbol of the unrequited love, she hoped the day would come soon.

As hurtful as it was, she couldn’t sit by and watch as her best friend gradually found a replacement, a person who could better give him all the things she couldn’t.

—

If you keep it going then one by one the memories will start to blur. You’ll ruin the good ones, but I guess my photo album’s none of your concern. Don’t humor me with kindness. There’s nothing kind about a hundred small betrayals. If you love me at all, you’ll kill it now.

Y/n and Oscar had always been in love with each other. Everybody knew it. It was that cliche kind of story. Their moms were best friends, so, in turn, they were. Countless amounts of scrapbooks and photo albums of the two together with their mothers’ handwriting at the bottom saying how they’ll show this photo at their wedding. It was destined from the start, or so everyone thought.

“Your what?” His mother asked the night he had introduced Lily as his girlfriend.

Oscar smiled, slightly confused by the taken aback faces of his parents and siblings, “My girlfriend, mom.”

“Oh,” She resigned, her form falling back in her chair.

His father, Chris, slowly nodded, “Nice to meet you, Lily.”

The two shook hands, an awkward moment as his mother stayed frozen in her chair with the only girl on her mind being the one she had adored from the start, Y/n.

Silence mulled over for a moment before Nicole was getting out of seat and pulling herself together, hugging Lily and giving her son the traditional knowing look, although, this time, it was completely fake.

She didn’t understand what the boy was doing. She didn’t know anything at this point. She was confused and already heartbroken for the y/e/c eyed girl whom she knew was struggling.

“Wasn’t Y/n supposed to come tonight?” It hit her that her son’s best friend was planned to be with them, a seat for her at the table with serving sizes accommodated to fit the number of people coming for their dinner, her included.

Oscar’s face broke out into panic, “Oh my god, Y/n!”

Nicole’s eyes darkened as she watched it dawn on the couple they had forgotten to pick up the poor girl.

“Oscar,” She said sternly, giving him a knowing look and, this time, making sure everybody knew it was real.

Her arms went to her hips as she looked at her son in disappointment, “Do not tell me that you forgot to pick her up.”

His eyes searched for forgiveness, “I- I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. Really. I-”

She put her hand up, silencing his rambles as she grabbed her keys and made her way to the door, “I’ve got it.”

—

Pulling up to her house, the woman clocked the way all the lights were out. No porch light or window light on as the house seemed to be eerily empty. Her feet took her up the stairs by 2’s as she hurried to assess the state of the girl, already knowing it couldn’t be good.

Knocking on the door, she heard nothing, so she knocked again. She continued this cycle until the foyer light finally came on and the door was opening, “Oscar, it’s okay. I underst- Mrs. Piastri?”

The woman, finally being faced with the fact that she didn’t quite know what to say, looked at Y/n as if the whole world had shattered around them.

“I’m sorry about him.” She started, thinking they could ease into the topic, but that proved to be the wrong decision as Y/n’s tears started.

Trying desperately to hold them back, keep them at bay somehow, she responded, “It’s okay.”

It was small and quiet, completely defeated, something Nicole felt unraged by knowing this was all at the hands of her own child.

The girl’s head hung low, the tissue in her hand coming up to her face to dab at the tears beginning to fall.

“Oh, honey,” Nicole whispered, rushing to the girl’s aid as she wrapped her up in a hug that brought Y/n back to her childhood when she would get hurt playing with Oscar and Nicole would be there to patch her up everytime.

While this is a bigger wound, Y/n knew Nicole would still stay. She always had and she always would. That was how they worked. Y/n would call her “Mrs. Piastri” like she had just met her and Nicole would be in her back corner, ready to pick her back up again when she failed to do it herself.

Closing the door behind them, Nicole winced at the sight of Y/n’s purse and jean jacket sitting on the bench beside the door, like she had been waiting for Oscar when he was never even going to come.

“I’m happy for him.” Y/n said, tears contradicting the statement in the worst way.

“You don’t have to be.” Nicole whispered, her hands cradling the girl’s head to her chest.

Pulling back, Y/n tried, “But, I am. I’m happy he found somebody. Am I happy that person isn’t me? Of course not!” She laughed dryily, “But, when did we ever really think he would love me back?”

Nicole scoffed, “Your whole lives! Your mom and I knew ever since you two were toddlers and Oscar forced me to buy flowers on Valentine’s Day, so he could properly ask you to be his valentine that he was always going to love you, whether you did or not.”

Y/n left her embrace, arms flailing about as she walked further into the house, “Well, that’s not true though! He doesn’t. Maybe he did before, but, now? No way. I mean, for God’s sake! He literally forgot about me!”

Nicole followed her, “I know, but, Y/n, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you.”

Y/n turned around, a bewildered look on her face, “Are you crazy?! Of course it does! He’s dating someone. He’s happy with someone. Happy without me. I don’t do it for him anymore, so he’s forgotten about it all. I don’t mean the same things to him as I used to.”

Nicole sighed, her fingers pinching the bridge of her nose, “Y/n, I don’t know what he’s doing, but I do know that he loves you. Always has. The way he feels about you isn’t forgettable. It won’t ever be.”

“Don’t do that.” She said as she plopped down onto the kitchen stool, the look of defeat returning.

Nicole shook her head, “Do what?”

“Indulge it. It’s already hard knowing he loves somebody else. I can’t take the idea that I once had him, that he once loved me, and I was too stupid to see it.” She said quietly.

The mother nodded, “So, is that it for you then? Are you done trying with him?”

Y/n lifted her head, meeting the gaze of her second mother, “Do I really have a choice? He’s already made up his mind.”

—

Slipping back into the house, Nicole felt disgusted as she heard the sounds of laughter from around the table. As Y/n broke down from being abandoned by the one steady person in her life, her son joked and enjoyed his life as if he wasn’t destroying someone else in expense.

Her movements were heard as the chatter died down and Chris’s voice boomed from the other room, “Honey? Is that you? Y/n with you?”

Her lone presence answered the second question when she waltzed in and no one trailed behind her.

“Was she not there?” Oscar inquired, Lily cozied up beside him.

Nicole couldn’t even look at her son as she quietly said, “No, she was.”

An uncomfortable silence accompanied the table at the insinuation, something that went straight over Lily’s head because of her lack of knowledge when it came to the situation.

“Oh, she just didn’t want to come anymore?” Oscar jabbed, unknowingly testing his mother.

Her gaze darted to her husband, “No, Oscar, she didn’t want to come.”

The use of his first name in such a hostile tone shut him up, giving Lily a confused look as he sat back.

Clearing his throat, Chris tried to mask the uneasiness, “So, what were you saying about that Silverstone?”

—

His steps took him into the kitchen after he had come home from dropping Lily back off at her house after dinner. He knew his mom was in there, the sound of dishes aggressively clanking around clued him in. She seemed in her own head, so he came up behind her and put a hand on her shoulder, “Are you okay?”

She turned around and met him with such a disheartened look that Oscar’s heart dropped, “What are you doing?” She asked, completely distraught.

“I don’t understand,” He gave, his arms folding in front of his chest as he leaned back against the counter.

“You told me 2 months ago you were so in love with Y/n, so why are you with Lily?” Her hands resided on her hips as she tried to put together her son’s sequence of errors.

He groaned, “Mom, I told you not to bring that conversation up. When we talked about that, I was drunk. You know this. None of what I said was true. I wasn’t in the right mind after you had poured me too much wine at that family dinner.”

“None of what you said was true or none of what you said you wanted to be true?” She challenged, disregarding his other arguments.

He rolled his eyes, “I don’t want people thinking I love Y/n.”

“Why?!” She exclaimed, fed up with the way he was toying with her innocence.

He tilted his head, “Why?! Because if it got to her that I loved her, it would ruin the friendship we have. How can you not understand that?”

She let out a breath, “I do understand that, Osc, but you’re pushing her away just the same right now.”

Confusion flicked in his eyes as he mulled over her words for a split second, “No.”

She nodded, “Why do you think she didn’t want to come to dinner? Why do you think she stopped making an effort? Why do you think she’s stopped talking to this family? God, Oscar, why do you think she’s stopped trying to hangout with you and only you, without Lily?”

Her words struck a cord in his chest, an opening that caught him up with all his stupid mistakes, as she continued, “Forgetting to pick her up was the last straw, Osc. I sat with her for almost an hour as she cried about losing her best friend. She can’t do this with you anymore. You’ve torn her apart.”

He sat there, mouth agape, as the reality set in. He had been the worst person to her for too long and she had just taken it without a word. He had thrown her away because someone else had come along and distracted him from the pain of not being loved back only to find out that the distraction had set in motion his worst fear.

Finally, his body returned to the moment and he reached for his keys, muttering an apology to his mother as he ran out the door.

Getting in his car and speeding off, he hoped he hadn’t killed them yet.

—

If you have to hurt me, hurt me once. If you have to end it, get it done. You have all these choices, I have none. You’re all that I have to lose, couldn’t hurt you if I wanted to. I’ve decided on you. I’ve decided on you. And if I’m disappointed it’s cause you’re not the person I knew. If I had it my way I’d be kinder than you.

For the second time that night, pounding was heard on her front door. Groaning, Y/n looked in the mirror, wiping away at her tears and trying to make herself look presentable before reaching for the door handle.

“Mrs. Piastri, I think I just need to be alon-” She started, but drew blank when Oscar’s face stared back at her.

“Y/n, I’m so sorry.” His eyes pleaded with her to let him in, not literally, but figuratively.

Yet, she wasn’t ready for that as she began to shut the door, however her attempts failed when his foot wedged in the doorway.

“Just hear me out?” He begged, looking into her red eyes.

Sighing quietly, she let him in.

The two traveled to her couch, sitting on opposite sides so formally it could pass as a business agreement.

Transactional, emotionless.

He took a deep breath, buying time to try and figure out a way to explain away his mistakes, “I’ve neglected you and I’ve neglected our friendship. There’s no excuse for what I’ve done, how I’ve treated you. I’ve completely forgotten about you and how much you mean to me. I’m so sorry, Y/n. I don’t know how to make this up to you.”

Her dead stare made him fearful there was no coming back as she said, “Is that all you have to say?”

He nodded, “Yes,”

“Okay,” She got up and walked back to the door, “Then, there’s nothing more to say.”

He cocked his head, “What? No way, Y/n. That can’t just be it.”

“But, it is, Oscar. I can’t keep doing this with you. I won’t keep doing this with you.” She said, hand gripping the door knob as if it would ground her.

He shook his head, “I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

She groaned as tears began to spill from her eyes and the fighting in her head went on, “I can’t keep loving you and having it backfire in my face.”

His world went quiet at her confession. Years of missed opportunities and mixed signals slapping him in the face as he watched her break down, something that told him this had been waying on her for the longest time.

“I need this to be over. I don’t want to look at you, be with you, anymore. I can’t wait my whole life for you to just wake up one day and say that you love me like I love you. It hurts too much, it’s unnecessary pain that I’m putting myself through for someone who doesn’t even care anymore! I don’t even know why you’re here right now! You’ve forgotten about me, leave it that way. Please, just leave me alone. I’ve put myself out there for so long, put myself in a vulnerable position at such a young age. I never even got a chance to know a life that didn’t revolve around you. I have no one else except for you, my family, your family, and your friends. I was stripped of a typical childhood because I was so obsessed with making you love me and look at where we are! I’ve got no one!”

“I’m not leaving you! That’s the opposite of what I’m trying to do!” He got up from the couch, stalking toward her.

She fired back, “That’s the problem! I need you to leave! I need to be able to exist without you! This has been years in the making, Oscar. I need to be independent. I need to be fine with being alone. With you in my life, I can’t do that. If you’re still a factor, I’ll never be able to move on. I have to fall out of love with you, Osc. And if you love me in the way you always have said you do, you’ll understand and you’ll let me go. I thought that you would get caught up in Lily enough to do it without thinking, but you’re here and you’re fighting, and it’s not wanted.”

As he stood in front of her, their tears synced, finding the same rhythm of leaving the eyes and falling down each cheek onto the floor. Oscar couldn’t believe what was unfolding in front of him. He knew this was his fault. If he had told her earlier how he felt she wouldn’t have gotten this idea and they wouldn’t be here, loosening the tight grip they had on the other.

His hand reached up to her arm, “But, I love you.”

His words seemed like they physically hurt her as she closed her eyes and shrugged his hand off, “You have a girlfriend, Oscar.”

“But, I love you.” He repeated more assertively.

Her eyes opened and they peered into his soul, “That doesn’t matter anymore. It’s too late for that.”

Her small hands pushed him toward the door she had somehow opened during their argument. He tried to fight them, push against them, but his body wouldn’t budge as he stumbled outside. Her arm braced on the door as she said, “Don’t say anything else. It’ll make things worse. Just go back to Lily and forget about us.”

With that, she slammed the door on his face, the sound of the lock turning haunted him. A cold reminder that there was no persuading her.

She was going to fall out of love with him whilst he laid awake in bed at night continuously, traitorously falling in love with the idea of her and what they could’ve been.

I decided on you.

[theemporium]

i’m so happy you’re in a mauraders mood bc so am i and your content is fulfilling all of my needs ty ty!!!

with that, thoughts on james getting hurt at quidditch and reader comes in to check on him? drugged up jamie confesses love to reader?? something?! idk this is is why you’re the writer and not me lol

thank you for requesting!🖤

.

It was a nasty fall.

You knew quidditch could be quite a rough sport and you knew every player got hurt at some point. Thankfully, most of the injuries that came out of the games could be easily healed and the players would be back in class the next day, resting up before their next game. It was very rare for anything worse than some bedrest and easy days to be prescribed to an injured quidditch player. 

But that didn’t settle the pit of worry in your stomach when you watched James fall. Between the speed and angle he fell at, and the fact the game had to halt for thirty minutes before they could move him off the pitch, it didn’t help that none of you were allowed to see him until a whole two hours after his accident. 

However, the second you received permission from McGonagall, you had quickly joined the others in rushing down to the infirmary wing to see how James was doing. What you weren’t expecting was to find a very loopy James in place of the boy you knew. 

“HEY, IT’S MY FRIENDS!” 

A slightly irritated Madam Pomfrey tried hushing the boy but it was useless as he tried to sit up in his bed by himself—an act that was difficult with the sling confining his right arm—as you all surrounded the bed he was situated in. 

“How you feeling, mate? You took quite the tumble out there,” Sirius asked, watching with some amusement as the bespectacled boy grinned lazily at the group. 

“I feel fine—great, even!” James insisted, letting out a giggle. “I feel fucking fantastic, Pads! You should try some of this stuff!”

Sirius snorted. “Maybe next time.” 

“You too, Moony,” James continued as his eyes searched over the group. “And you, Evans. And don’t think you can hide from me, Mary! And—oh.”

His loud and eccentric movements came to a halt as his eyes fell on you, his lips parting. The only sign you had that he was still alive was the slow blinks as he stared at you, his cheeks flushed and your concern peaked at the idea of him suddenly gaining a fever.

“James?” you called out, your brows furrowed together when he didn’t answer. “Are you feeling okay? Do we need to get Madam Pomfrey again?” 

“Moony,” James finally whispered, still staring at you like he was lost in a daze. 

“Yeah, bud?” Remus was soon by his side, frowning a little in concern as the boy reached out to grip his arm. 

“I can see an angel,” James whispered and Sirius had to cover his mouth to muffle his laughs. “Can you see her?” 

“Uh, what?” Remus muttered in confusion.

“An angel!” he insisted as he pointed in your direction. “Look at her! She is gorgeous, Moony! One of the prettiest fucking girls I’ve ever seen!” 

Your cheeks burned as you pressed your lips together to try and contain your grin. 

“That’s not an angel, Prongs,” Remus told him, now quite amused as he gently patted his friend on the back. “She’s your friend.” 

James whirled his head around. “I’m friends with an angel?” 

“I—” Remus sighed, shaking his head. “Yeah, buddy, you are.” 

“Woah,” James murmured as he turned to look back at you. “You make my chest feel funny.” 

You frowned a little. “Funny? Maybe we should—” 

“Like my heart is going boom-da-boom really fast,” James continued, nodding his head. “I like that it does that for you.” 

“Oh,” was all you could say. 

“Who would have thought it would take a bunch of painkillers for Prongs to finally admit how he feels?” Sirius commented from the other side of his bed, grinning widely as his friend stared lovingly at you. 

“Shut up, Sirius,” you murmured, slightly shy.

“He’s in love with you, sweetheart,” Sirius told you in a know-it-all voice.

“No, he doesn’t, he just—”

“Yes, I am,” James interrupted, nodding his head in confirmation. “Like, love love. The good kinda love. The one where I get to kiss you and stuff.”

You tried to tamper down the butterflies in your stomach. “Kiss me and stuff?” 

“All the stuff,” James murmured, yawning slightly as the painkillers started to really kick in. 

“How about you tell me this when you’re not high and we will see where we go,” you muttered, smiling softly as you watched him try to fight the strong urge to sleep. 

“Promise you’ll be here when I wake up?” James murmured, reaching his hand out to you. 

You took his hand and intertwined your fingers. “Promise. Goodnight, James.” 

“Goodnight, Angel.”

.

[tarjapearce]

As My Own

Miguel O'Hara x Daughter'sRoomate!femreader .

Don't think I have forgotten about the requests 👀.

WARNING: Fluff. A tiny squeeze of angst, Rotting tooth fluff, daily snippets of life, anxious dad.

Summary: Gabi wants a mom. And who is Miguel to deny such wish?

Requested Here. Hope you like ❤️ Feedback is highly appreciated.

Sighing for the third time in a row, Miguel looked fondly at the pictures of his daughter through the years, until she grew out to be a lovely young lady, whose talents in soccer had earned her a scholarship in college.

Despite being terrified of the idea of Gabriela spreading her wings and soar into life itself, he knew the moment would come sooner or later, more like, right now. He was unpacking some boxes into the apartment Gabi would be staying, and if he was honest, the idea of her sharing a room with someone else didn't appeal that much on his trust issues.

If it wasn't for the house renovations needed to be done ASAP, he'd make sure to get Gabi a place for her own.

------

Emancipation had taken a toll on him and his mind, The once girly and colorful room filled with drawings, trophies and medals with a soccer player motifs, soccer star posters, some consoles and games, was now an empty space full of memories.

When Gabi gave him the news of her moving out completely, made his heart to shrink and break, but he knew that he had to let her go. Gabriela was 19 at the time, doing good at college, had found herself a half time job and a new roommate. The last one seemed the most preoccupying thing on the list. Was it a man? Did she eat well? Did she get along with them? Probably had gotten her a couple of fights, were they older? Was his Solecito safe?

It had been three years since she left home and pursue her superior studies and a professional soccer player career.

His mind was racing with the infinite questions and his stress gnawed at his chest, his phone buzzing interrupted his accelerating thoughts. He opened the message log and sighed in relief to see Gabriela's name on the screen.

He tapped at the message and his heart nearly melted at seeing Gabi with a goofy expression on her face, her hands making a V sign as she hovered over a small table set for two.

"Dinner time with Roomie~"

The caption read. The food looked delicious and esthetically pleasing at the eye. Nearly Michelin star awarded restaurant quality.

(Name) 's food is amazing! . Btw Im free next week, so come over, I miss you Papa.

Gabi had texted him some couple of hours later. (Name) ; at least he now knew that Gabi shared space with a woman. He didn't trust college guys at all. At least, he could sleep a bit better now. However, something had caught his attention, despite Gabi's competitive traits, she rarely loosened herself around others. And the picture only proved him right.

Gabi was unabashedly goofy and silly on the picture, with a genuine smile on her face. Whoever you were, he was grateful for making his most precious treasure comfortable and safe.

-----

The first time you met Gabi was quite the experience, you had just returned from work to find a lot of boxes loitering the entrance and part of the living room. Books, some baskets with soccer balls and equipment, Somw clothes and more books.

The burning smell immediately alerted you as smoke begun filling in the room. Rushing you opened the window and started to dissipate the smoke away with a towel.

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry!" The young and tall woman panicked as she came out of the bathroom, body wrapped in a towel, just like her hair. Skin still sudsy with soap.

The chaos was tamed, leaving one of your favorite collectible pots, charred and useless.

"I'm really really sorry! I'll get you a new one."

"Don't you worry. Just... be careful. Don't leave the stove on when you are away. You could've burn the place down"

Gabi nodded sheepishly and looked down, when she noticed your chef uniform, the logo of a prestigious place she could only dream to afford in a couple of months and a place where he wanted to take her Papa as a surprise, standing out in your chest.

"Im (Name), the other tenant. Nice to meet you." Your voice was firm, yet kind. The kind of kindness that could insult anyone and still sound charming.

"Gabriela O'Hara. Sorry for your pot. I'll get you a new one"

"Ah stop it. It was just a family relic passed on generation to generation that now will end up in the trash."

You couldn't help but laugh at her panicking and guilty reaction.

"I'm just messing with you, sweetie. I got Ceci on a promo back at the supermarket. Don't worry. It's just a pot. We throw at least one daily at the restaurant. What were you trying to make anyways?"

Gabi didn't know if to be shocked or be laughing at your attitude. She settled for confused.

"Cause it smelled like cheap Mac and Cheese"

Her cheeks flushed and you just chuckled knowingly.

"Freshman?" Gabi nodded and you smiled almost endearingly at her.

"Such a cutie! I remember my first semester at college. Such a mess, terrible food and a terrible roommate"

"You're graduated?"

"A long time ago, yeah, Culinary school is something else. Don't get in there if you like having perfect skin."You chuckled and rolled up your sleeve, showing a few shares of scars and burn marks.

"Anyways, let's have a couple of rules okay? If you follow them, who knows? it can take us places." You grinned.

"No boys after 10 pm on weekends, and if you do, keep it low. Thin walls. Same applies to me, but don't worry about it. Im way too tired to actually do something about bringing my libido back."

Jeesh

Gabi's cheek flushed as her stomach fluttered anxiously.

"You can use my tools for cooking with the only condition to leave them clean and back at their place. Got it?"

She nodded at every reasonable rule you gave her. You had warned her that sometimes you'd be out of town due work, and that left her on charge of the place. It was brought to her attention that despite the place being small, it was conditioned enough to make it almost fancy looking. The kitchen specially.

Of course things just grew from there. At first Gabi was shocked to find you were a couple of years younger than her Papa. And that you had been single for quite a time now. Couple of years to be exact.

But that mattered little as her growing fondness for you was borderline adorable. You had helped her through some really bad times, like getting her a part time job at your workplace after being fired from the college coffee shop, something she never had the guts to tell Miguel.

Then you of course helping her out in her cooking skills, to at least stop eating plain ramen and packaged food bags.

"You're an athlete, you must feed like one."

"But I can't... afford it-"

"Uh uh. Shh." You shook your head and taught her to buy the right sort of meals even under a tight budget. Sometimes she would even find meals prepped for her whenever she had run short on money.

You were there when she got her first college date, and also were there when the young man turned out to be a fuckboy and a prick. Wiping her tears and feeding her a freshly made creme brule. A favorite of hers. You had also Dropped her and picked her up in her soccer practices whenever time allowed you so. She seeked guidance in you

She was there for you when depression was making it's way into your head, she was also there when she helped you to recover from a hang over after another failed date, and nursed you through your terrible period cramps. Even though sometimes harmony seemed disrupted by external causes, such as stress, work and feeling particularly wistful and blue, you'd always find comfort in eachother.

You were amazed by the fact that you realized that she was like the little girl you always dreamed to have.

"How come you don't have children?" Gabi had asked carefully. Despite the trust you hsd built over the years, there was some things you still couldn't bring yourself to discuss so openly, until now.

"I..."

"Sorry if I'm overstepping"

"Nah. I think it's time I actually come clean about some stuffs."

"Are you sure?" You nodded and sighed

"I can't have them"

Surprise drawed into Gabi's eyes as she stared at you.

"Infertility?"

"Yup. But... It's fine. I've come to terms with it, so..."

You trailed and she swallowed as her hand was placed above yours.

"For all it's worth? I'm sure you could have been an amazing mother."

Could have been

" To me, you... you are."

Gabi mumbled as tears swelled up in her eyes, threatening to fall. You stared at her, heart leaping in your chest

"Like... You are like the mother I never had... My Papa is amazing, but sometimes I actually yearn for a different kind of love." She hiccuped and you frowned, holding her closer.

"Like a mom. I want... I want to go shopping and talking about boys and how stupid they are. I want... to be cheered on by someone else at my games and not only my Papa."

Your heart felt breaking bit by bit as Gabi broke before you

"Don't get me wrong, I love Papa to death but... It's hard, y'know?"

"Ah, cariño." An endearment term you had learn from her, "You are such an amazing kid. Im sure that whoever comes into your life to take that spot needs to be amazing, because you're such a special young woman. Look at you, bright future ahead, smart, so so pretty and brave"

But Gabriela didn't want a stranger as her mother figure. She wanted you.

Gabi hid her face on your chest as you held her close, consoling her as much as you could. She remained there until she looked up at you with a suspicious glare

"Maybe I can introduce you to my dad" Your cheeks flushed bright red and she gasped, a bright bulb of an idea popping in her mind, sadness remnants vanishing from her body almost instantly

"No, Gabi, cariño-"

"You can meet him this weekend!"

"That's too soon, I am not prepared! Plus I have work remember?"

"He's staying all weekend, don't worry."

You had seen her adoring Papa through pictures she had showed you. The man was attractive, and looked certainly way too out of your league but of course you never told Gabi about it. You just shrugged it off with a 'Oh, cute'. But now that her plan was on set, you couldn't say no to her.

"Besides, I think it's time for you to actually meet guys. And this time no excuses like Im busy or stuff like that."

"Okay, okay. But if things don't work out-"

"I know, I'll drop it." Gabi rolled her eyes.

-----

Even though the recipe for a certain disaster was cooking, you tried to be optimistic about it. A bit of positive thinking wouldn't hurt you from time to time. However, your shift turned out a bit trickier than usual, since the restaurant had been reserved for a main event for important people.

In the little chance you had, you sent Gabi a little video of how crowded it was, and apologizing cause you didn't know if you were making a double shift and wouldn't be able to meet Papa.

Gabi just sent you a picture of the both with a "Miss you! Dad just came"

------

3 am. 3 am and you were finally done, no more stuck up clients pretending to love raw fish and meats, people that were just actually there for the food pictures and to be able to brag about they were there. Your feet ached, and so was your headache. The good thing was that the company allowed you to take some food home.

Keys tinkered as you grabbed them to finally turn them in the keyhole and entering home and closed the door, angry and heavy steps alerted you as the hulking figure of a man stood in the dark, as the dim lit red iris flashed at you. You had to crane your head up to meet his deep eyes.

Now you wondered where Gabi had came out so tall.

"H-Hello..." You gulped and he sighed, hard expression melting slowly.

"Sorry for... the late hour."

"No, no. Discúlpeme I mean, forgive me. Though someone had broke in, until I heard the keys a bit too late. I'm Miguel. O'Hara." He offered you his large hand that easily engulfed yours.

"Oh, so you're... Papa" you shook it gently. He was warm, and chuckled. "Im (Name). Gabi never stops talking about you." You gave him an amiable smile and put your containers on the dining table.

"Nice to meet you" you began unpacking, aligning the recipients carefully on the table.

"How's... Gabriela doing?" His deep voice snapped your focus for a moment and your eyes darted to his form. Sweatpants in grey, a white fitting shirt that snugged his form a bit too nicely for a short stare. Hair slicked back, pouty lips, thick brows and his deep... red eyes? He certainly was even more handsome in the flesh than in the pictures.

"Oh, she's amazing. Her practice in soccer has improved even more. She has a final next week."

His brow arched at how much information you knew about her.

"I apologize, she fell asleep in your room, despite me telling her that the couch would be-"

"Ah don't worry about it. My bed is big enough for two, and she isn't a kicker in her sleep. So make sure to rest properly. Oh! And welcome for the weekend. Would you like something to eat?"

Miguel shook his head and softly smiled at you. You were pretty. So so pretty that his mind was almost in shortcut when you were removing your chef robe, in the kitchen exposing a bit more of skin. Your left arm was adorned with little burn marks and cuts, you poured yourself a glass of wine when you felt his eyes on you.

"Want some?" You offered the wine and he nodded, a bit reluctant at first.

"Has Gabi acted out of place while I'm gone?" You giggled as you poured him some wine.

"If by out of place means sleeping one hour later than she is used to, yeah. She has." Your hands gave him the cup and he leaned on the table. Gabi groggily came out your room, lured away by the delicious smell of food.

"Hey" She mumbled and hugged Miguel and then hugged you, and remained with her arms around your waist. You kissed her forehead and she smiled.

Miguel entered in spectator mode.

"Hey, cupcake. Want some food?"

"Can I have it tomorrow?"

"Got you a Creme Brule." She grunted happily.

Gabi smiled and went through the bags, popping a chocolate coated strawberry on her mouth.

"Still, I'm too tired to actually eat. Got Papa and I some takeout."

"Takeout?! The good sort of thing I hope" Gabriela groaned as she made her way back to your room.

"Don't steal the fluffy sheets!"

"Yes, mom. Take a bath first, you smell like garlic." she mumbled and went to bed.

Your whole face was as red as a strawberry not because your smell, but for how she had called you, you gulped down the wine and sighed. Miguel stared at you and his chest couldn't help but constrict a little more.

" I apologize for that, Gabriela is..."

"Quite receptive to smells? Yeah."

"And she called you mom." He was more surprised about it than anything else.

"Ah hehe. Yeah, she had been calling me accidentally that a bit more often."

"Does it makes you feel uncomfortable?" He sipped his wine

"Not really. I find it cute. She eh... talked to me about growing up and how things had been for her."

"I must thank you. You have fed her, taken care of her and now even protect her."

"She's a great kid." You nodded proudly. "Couldn't find a better roomie, and a friend. You did a good job raising her, Papa."

Miguel cleared his throat and gave you a small smile.

"I hope she hasn't-"

"Relax, she's been nothing but a good kid all these years. You gotta trust her a bit more."

"It's the people around her that I don't trust"

"Ouch..."

"I mean, not that I dont... just... carajo." you giggled at his cursing as his brows knitted together

"I mean, my daughter trusts you enough to sleep in your bed, call you mom even, so... would be kinda dumb to say that you're a bad person... And I'm not making any sense right?"

You gave him a bashful smile and it was your turn to clear your throat.

"She's been busy at playing cupid. She thinks she is subtle..." You bit your lip and poured yourself a bit more of wine as Miguel rubbed his face, tiredly.

"What about, today at 7 pm?"

"At 7pm what?" He coked an eyebrow to you and Gabriela poked her head out of your room, sighing with exasperation.

"Por Dios pa, Te está invitando a salir!" (My god, Papa, she's asking you out.)

You just laughed and put the food in the fridge

"If you're up for it, that is. It's fine if you don't-"

"Make it at 8. Traffic has lowered by that hour."

"Alright." You smiled and took your chef coat with you.

"Sleep well, Papa."

He downed the remnants of his wine and smiled to himself. He had a date.

------—----

And a second, and a third and a fourth and a fifth. You were such an enjoyable being to hang around. You shared little silly texts, learnt a bit more spanish thanks to him to slowly bring down your language barrier. Even though you understood some words here and there, you wanted to understand so you could also feel part of the secret and long conversations the two O'Haras shared when it came to you.

Miguel was the first in making a move and kissed you around the fourth date. Nervous as you were, you finally felt good enough to just allow yourself to indulge in his company and what he had to offer. Great company, laughs, delicious make out sessions you didn't thought possible at your age.

Gabi had found you both eating each other's mouth in the livingroom

"Get a room!" She'd yell as she locked herself, headphones up her ears, but a beam in her face. Her chest swelled in joy knowing her cupid stunt had paid off.

--------

"You sure about that?"

"Yeah, pa. Like... She's the best. She's so sweet and... makes me happy cause you are happy."

"You'd be the only child, you're aware of that right?"

Gabi nodded upon remembering your words and your condition.

"Having a little sibling at this point would be awkward anyways."

"That doesn't mean I can't try-"

"Oh my god stop..." Gabi shook her head and Miguel smirked

"Payback for not telling me you were fired." She grunted as Miguel held her tightly.

"I think it's time to try something new."

"You'll ask her to marry you?!" Gabi gasped excited with a beam on her face

"Relax, Solecito. We're still knowing each other. And we wanna make sure that things work out before thinking in something so important as that."

"If you let her go, I promise that I won't talk to you again."

"Ouch."

--------

Bit by bit you had small milestones in your relationship with Miguel, you visiting his home back at New York, you staying a weekend in said home, you being introduced to his friends, sharing carneada with his friends, and of course, being found by Gabriela about to have sex, none of you mentioned it during dinner.

To make things even more convenient and better, your restaurant had opened a second branch in New York. Gabi was about to graduate college and of course, you both were saddened that soon you'll part ways. The both were too enraptured enjoying your mother-daughter relationship you had created that forgot about the future.

It didn't help to her sadness when you told her about you and other crew members of your work were selected for a three months workshop in France.

Despite your own sadness, both O'Haras cheered you to go.

"Three months is gonna be torture without you, but time goes so fast. You'll be back sooner than we expect it." Gabi had spoken. And of course, after her graduation, and a kiss goodbye, you flew to France.

Communication wasn't an issue since you talked every day. And still, the gnawing feeling of not being with them made you wish time to fly. You spoke every night with Miguel, telling him how much you have missed him. Even though work had kept you both busy enough, you'd always find a way to talk or text.

And when you came back? It felt like floating in a dream.

"Mom!" Gabriela rushed to you and crushed you in her arms, sniffling and holding you tightly.

"I missed you soo much, cariño." You kissed her forehead, Miguel joined a bit later with a rose bouquet on hand. He pulled you in for a deep kiss.

"Missed you, preciosa".

What sealed the deal for him was seeing you sharing a moment with Gabi. You were brushing her hair as you caught up eith the things you learned in France and how excited you were for them both to taste them.

He asked you to move in with them. And god he loved the feeling of you being around. Gabi was happy, he was happy and you were as well.

Everything about you had captured his heart. Your personality, your way to carry on things, the subtle ways you guided Gabriela without imposing in her autonomy, How much love you seemed to have for them, the delicious feeling of your skin against his on bed.

He proposed a year after. He wouldn't let you go, no no. You were too perfect for him, and a perfect Mom for Gabriela.

[zephyrrr101]

Let me help you

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x sister reader

Warning: Targcest/incest (that's the hype about Hotd loves), fingering, consensual everything basically, dirty talking, all the ASOIAF warnings, slight Dom Daemon, MINORS DNI.

Lots of thanks to @officialaemondtargaryen for being my beta for this one. Love you lots hon.

The day had been very tiring. You had lesson with your Septa continuously. And the woman had seemed to swore that she would not leave you alone until you have finished sewing your house sigil into the tapestry you were supposed to do for your grandsire, King Jaehaeyrs', soon approaching name day.

Your feet felt frozen with the long sitting, so did your back. Your hands ached before but now everything felt numb. Shaking them, as you tried to remove the numb feeling that seemed to have spread up to your elbows. You couldn't help but curse her as you got into your chamber after asking your sworn sheild for your maids to be called.

"Tried?"

A shriek left your mouth and you turned around to see your older brother, Daemon lazily lying on your bed with an amused smile.

"Fuck you, Daemon!" You sighed, leaning over the now closed door with your hand over your chest that reached there out of fright. You loved your brothers, you did, but Daemon was just as much of little shit as much he was charmer.

"Well, if you insist..." He drawled and you grabbed the closest thing to you and threw it at him, very obviously not hitting the target as the very expensive brass vase had landed on your pillow a good one hand away from your brother's head. Did you care? No.

"I'm already tired, Dae. And annoyed. So if you're here to rile me up, I suggest get the fuck out," You moved around the room, making your way over to other side of bed and laying down on your stomach very ungracefully, pushing the vase down on floor.

You think Daemon understood that you were quite serious. Well, he better have or else you were going to hit him perfectly on his perfect annoying face.

You felt his hand caressing your hair, the hair of same color that you shared with him. It brought you comfort as his fingers moved from the crown of your head to base, his fingers, just the right pressure, oh your brother could also be just as sweet as infuriating he was when you needed him to be.

"What happened?" He whispered and he turned you over and laid beside you. Now you were facing him, you could see a frown on his beautiful face. Along with your hair, you shared your nose with him, longer than that of Viserys'. And your cheekbones too. The same cheekbones that he was now caressing.

"My Septa had me doing needlework all day." You told. Daemon snorted at it and he received a poke in ribs for that whe you continued your complaining. "Do not laugh. My hands are numb from working on that tapestry. My legs and back feel just as useless."

"Is my haedar so much in pain?" He mused, sporting a smirk, but his words were genuine. You knew. Always.

Daemon was a mystery to most. You had seen girls gush at him, your maids-in-waiting were just mad about him. When you looked at him you saw nothing but your brother. A brother you loved and hated? No. No. You didn't hate him. He was more of like... A leech? Yes, a leech you did everything to squeeze the life out of you. But he did you just as much. Maybe more than anyone did. Just you did.

Daemon sat up leading you to frown at his action. "Where are you going?"

"Nowhere," he smiled at you and shifted over to the end of the bed, taking your feet in his hands. "Let me help you." His slightly calloused hands pressed into your tender flesh, rubbing and squeezing and your eyes closed at the relief you felt as you let out pleased sighs. His hands moved up first to your ankles, rolling them as easily he could, then to calves, massaging your muscles tenderly, then around the knees and then above them with soft circular motions and then—

"Daemon," one of your eyes opened as your look at him sternly.

Daemon grinned, nothing just concern seemed to be there anymore. His fingers now made there way up to your inner thighs, his movements alternating between hard and soft and with each movement he seemed to move more closer to the apex of your legs.

"What are you doing, lekia?" You retorted, knowing where it was leading to.

"Being a good brother and helping my sister relax, of course," he leaned down, slowly coming up, and hovered over you, his face just above yours, you could easily smell Caraxes on him along with the leather vest that he wore most of the time and the sweet fragrance of Arbor Gold that was both of yours favourite.

"We can't, Daemon. Not now. I've called my maids." You tried to push him off you. As much as you loved Daemon doing all the other worldly things to you, getting caught was not something you could afford. Daemon did not budge. He simply dipped down, his lips meeting yours and you easily melted into him.

"Send them away. Who cares?" It wasn't that hard for you to be convinced when he was making such good effort.

One of your hands pulled at the hair, pulling him more into you as the other found it's way inside Daemon's tunic as you traced his skin. You loved the way his body felt on your skin. Each muscle strong, you could even trace some small scars that he received while training or in duels. Everything that made your brother beautiful.

His mouth left wet kisses down your jaw, his teeth nipping at soft skin of your neck and you gasp when he sucked on your skin. He was going to leave a mark. He was doing it deliberately. This bastard! You could feel your small cloth getting wet. Oh, he did it again. Biting that spot on your neck. You loved it when he did it.

Your hands moved down his chest, you caress every inch of his you could with the tunic that still was attached to him and moved down and down and down, reaching the lace of his breeches.

Daemon grabbed your hands, and pulled them up, keeping them prisoner above your head. "Daemon, what—"

"Hush, sweet sister," he spoke, and left a kiss on your lips. "Let me take care of you." He unlaced the top of your dress, the sleeves coming down swiftly and he suckled on the tits softly. His fingers found their way to your small cloth, unlacing the barrier that was between him and the sweet nether. "My, did I do that you, haedar?"

"Daemon," you gasp, his fingers moving through your lower lips, his thumb ghosting over you pearl, a shriek followed the gasp when you felt him flicking on it. "Fuck,"

His chuckle echoed in the otherwise silent room where just your breaths could be heard. He bent and you felt it, his tongue slowly moving along the rises and lows of your cunt. He nibbled at the skin around your clit, sucking it and you moan.

His fingers caresses you and he slowly entered one digit inside you making you gasp.

Daemon rose, his fingers still in you, you could see your arousal coating his lips, his pink lips that shined under the candle light around your room. "I haven't even started and you're clenching like that?"

You moan out his name as he moves his fingers inside you, going back to sucking your pearl, lapping on your arousal. "Hmm, haedar, you taste like nectar of gods." He spoke while licking your juices and he added another finger inside you. Grabbing the sheets around you bit your lip to not make too much of a louder noise. Your sworn shield stood outside. If he heard anything, you would be sent to silent sister's just like your aunt Saera and you were sure that you won't be able to run away like her.

You undid the laces in thr front of your dress, loosening it around your chest, your mounds slipping out and you caress the skin, circling your fingers on your pebbles, pulling them and a moan left your mouth at the pleasure flooding through you from them and Daemon's fingers in you.

Daemon looked up and scowled at the sight of your fingers on your nipples. He smacked your hand with his other one, his fingers in you pausing and tugged at your pink tit.

You squealed in pain and glared at Daemon as he pulled back his fingers before adding another one. "Don't touch yourself," He gave you a stern look. "Good princess don't do such things. They let their elder brother take care of them."

You moaned as he thrusted his fingers inside you deeper, you could feel his rings in you, he was so deep. The other hand now playing with your mounds pulling, pinching caressing. "That feels good? Hmm? You are clenching on my fingers, sweet girl."

"Please, Daemon," You moaned, your hands finding his shoulders and you grabbed it hard, Daemon felt your nails biting his skin, his breeches becoming tighter with each moment. "Need you, Daemon."

"Need me? How so?" He grinned and he curled his fingers inside you, before pulling them back and pushing in again this time deeper and then again more deeper as if trying to find how far he could go just with his hand.

"Your mouth." You suck in a deep breath, "on me,"

"On you? Where? There's a lot a of places on you."

You would have thrown something at him again if he hadn't pressed his thumb on your clit making you almost scream. "My cunt! My cunt, damn it Daemon! Just fucking—"

You covered your mouth as soon as you could. You hadn't even been able to see when Daemon hand went back to sucking your pearl and lips. Your abdomen clenched, you were near your peak. And Daemon apparently knew that too since he had increased his pace.

"Princess!" Your maid's voice sounded muffled through the closed door. Or maybe it was the haze you were in. "Princess, we've come with your bath water,"

You glanced at Daemon between your legs and found him looking up at you with a devilish look in his eyes while he sucked and lapped on you like a hound who hadn't been fed in days and you felt yourself clench. Oh that infuriating bastard was enjoying it.

"Princess?" You maid called out again, her voice now sounding concerned.

"A minute!" You yelled and gasped. You couldn't see what Daemon was doing, but it felt like a blessing from Gods.

Your head was thrown back in your pillow and you felt your eyes rolling back as you reached your peak, your hand on your mouth, muffling all the moans it could as you came down from your high.

Daemon rose, still sitting between your legs, both you panting heavily. His lips glistening with your juices, he was grinning. And so were you. Daemon moved, coming to hover over you, he dropped and your lips met his, you tasted yourself on him and after a moment he pulled away, a fond look in his lilac eyes.

"What about you?" You asked, pointing at his cock, straining inside his breeches. You were tempted to loosen the laces and take him, but you knew that time was not on your side.

"I'll handle it. Maybe I'll visit Silk Street," he shrugged.

You sat up on your bed as he got off the bed, you glanced between him and the door where your maids stood outside, "Where are you going to hide?"

Daemon gave you a confused look, "Why must I hide? I am going to my room." You were even more confused as he started to walk behind your bed.

"Daemon the maids outside—" Him pushing a part of wall behind you had you stop talking. Well, it actually moving had you shut up. "What in the seven hell? Daemon?"

Your brother smirked at you as he entered what you now understood were the secret tunnels Maegor had built in the Keep. He had known about them. That fucker!

"You little cunt! Fucking—"

"Good bye, sister. Enjoy your bath. Your maids' are waiting." And he quicked his way inside the tunnel, closing the part of wall leaving the room as he wasn't even here.

Damn, your brother. You loved him so much.

[aehvs]

𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐥𝐥

𝐏𝐭 1

𝐦𝐢𝐳𝐮 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐦𝐢𝐱𝐞𝐝!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Mizu didn't expect to meet someone so similar to her in a brothel.

𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞: fluff

Mizu was known far and wide for being a ruthless demon. A soulless halfbreed with one goal in life; revenge. And maybe part of it was true, she always considered stuff like friendship or love to be useless, nothing but a distraction towards her greater goal.

That was, until she met you.

While she and her 'apprentice' were in madam Kaji's brothel, you'd caught her attention immediately. Your slightly lighter, curly hair stood out like a sore thumb amongst your coworkers. You were the only worker there who hadn't tried to seduce her or Ringo.

"Master, do you see that lady? Do you think she's like you?" was the question Ringo loudly asked. Mizu just shook her head in dismissal. What did it matter if you were like her. You were nothing but a prostitute anyway.

After her conversation with madam Kaji, she retreated to a private room for the night. Just as she started to relax, a silent knock was heard on the door, before it slid open slightly. "I already stated I didn't want company." her cold voice pierced the small space.

"I am not here to seduce you, sir. I'm merely here to serve you fresh tea. It is included in the price of your stay" your voice was a stark contrast to hers, soft and gentle. She turned to face the door as you slid it open, bowing politely while holding the tray with tea and some rice cakes.

She eyed you closely as you set the tray down, taking the teapot to pour her a cup. Her bright blue eyes were cold, yet held a spark of intrigue in them. You did indeed look a bit like her. You were quite beautiful, your features unlike anything she'd ever seen before, aside from herself. Your pretty curly hair was loose, falling down your back in a way Mizu couldn't help but admire.

You noticed the intense stare directed at you, most importantly at your hair. It didn't bother you too much, it was nothing new. You handed her the small cup of tea while bowing your head politely "Here you go, sir. I hope it is to your liking. I brewed it just a few minutes ago."

"Thank you." the answer you received was curt, but polite.

Before silence could cover the room, you started speaking again "May I ask your name, sir? I don't think you ever mentioned it" you spoke kindly with a smile on your face.

Mizu felt slightly conflicted. On the one hand, she didn't know you, you were just a prostitute in a brothel, and now you were asking her name? But, a part of her was interested. "Mizu. My name is Mizu." She spoke curtly and carefully, clearly still somewhat suspicious of you.

You smile turned brighter upon hearing her name "Thats a very beautiful name, Mizu. My name is [name]. Its a pleasure to finally meet you. I noticed you and your friend when you entered, but I didn't wish to bother you." You couldn't help but stare at her as you introduced yourself. Everything about her screamed confidence and strength.

Your gaze lingered at her eyes for a moment. They were absolutely beautiful, a striking blue that you could gaze at for hours.

Upon noticing your interest, Mizu frowned "Whatever insult comes next is better left unsaid. I've heard it before" the sudden harshness made you break out of your little trance, your eyes falling down onto the tray infront of you.

"Oh, no, I wasn't going to insult you, I promise! It's just that.." you trailed off "Uh, your eyes are absolutely beautiful"

That... wasn't what Mizu expected. At all. 'Beautiful'? That was a new one. To say you threw her off-guard would be an understatement. Usually she wouldn't believe that whoever complimented her eyes was being genuine. She'd argue it's just a tactic to insult her in some way by lying.

"I apologize if I made you uncomfortable, I've just never seen eyes so clear. I see water in them, water is impossible to catch and can erode through even the toughest metals. It adapts to any weather and condition. And, I can understand what it's like to be regarded as something weird. As a monster" you touch your hair while speaking, eyes slightly solemn.

Mizu took in your words with shock in her eyes. Your little ramble sounded so sincere, and the way you were looking at her with the kindest, sweetest expression she'd ever seen anyone give her. It shook her to her core and made her even more inclined to believe your compliment.

"...Thank you. Your words mean a lot to me" she spoke quietly, almost as if waiting for a punchline to a cruel joke. But it never came. Your smile only brightened at her quiet, almost shy voice. You were happy to finally meet someone who could understand you on a level that many others couldn't. Being judged harshly for something neither one of you had a choice in.

"Ofcourse" you started speaking again while pouring her another cup of tea "I understand the fear. Believe me, Ive met my fair share of assholes here" you chuckle, making Mizu smile faintly "People here are just closed-minded. There is nothing wrong with us, sir." you gave her another one of your pretty smiles.

Mizu had to be honest, you were starting to grow on her a bit. Your soft voice and kind eyes were something she could definitely get used to. She looked at you, her eyes were softer than before "Yeah, I suppose you're right. People can really be cruel. It's difficult to not start to believe it yourself.."

You hummed understandingly "I suppose so. It's important to not give into the cruel words, though. And to find people that actually accept you" you looked right in her eyes again, this time your eyes held a look of adoration "You're always welcome here, sir"

Yeah, Mizu could get used to this.

[trashpandato]

Money

When Kara lands on Lena’s balcony at L-Corp, she’s here on a mission.

“Miss Luthor.”

Lena whirls around at her desk, clearly surprised by the visit.

“Supergirl. I wasn’t expecting you. Is there a problem?”

Kara stalks into her office, hands on her hips.

“Yes, I mean, no, not a problem, per se.”

“But?” Lena prompts, picking up on Kara’s frantic energy.

“I was meeting with the mayor this morning,” Kara starts, thinking back to being summoned by city officials to talk about the damage to some waterfront buildings that happened in the wake of Kara fighting off the latest rogue alien who attacked the city.

“Oh. Well, that’s unpleasant,” Lena quips. “He’s a useless sack of flesh in ill-fitting suits, at least as far as I’m concerned.”

“Um, I mean. Yes. But, that’s not why I’m here.”

Lena sits back down at her desk and motions for Kara to take one of the chairs across from her and waits for her to get to the point.

“Right, so, he said that you paid for the damage to the two office buildings by the pier.”

A small smile settles on Lena’s face. “I did.”

The confirmation makes Kara feel jittery. Why would Lena do that? It’s not like she was involved in the fight. It’s not her responsibility!

“Why?”

“Why did I pay for it? Because I can, Supergirl. My family has more money than they know what to do with. I figured it’s only fair to use some of it for good.”

Kara huffs. She doesn’t quite know how to argue with that, but it still feels wrong for Lena to pay for the damage Kara left behind.

Lena seems to sense Kara’s discomfort. The teasing smirk on her face softens into an understanding smile.

“You do so much for this city. You put yourself on the line every day. I have the resources to help, and it won’t even make a noticeable dent in my bank account. Let me take care of this, okay?”

Kara shifts around on her chair, still a little unsure about this arrangement.

“Okay, but, you have to let me make it up to you somehow.”

At that, Lena nods. “Let me steal a couple of your french fries tomorrow at lunch and we’re even.”

Kara can hear the finality in Lena’s tone. It’s not unfriendly, but it’s clear that Lena won’t be deterred.

“Fine. Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

Lena nods again and grins.

It’s not until Kara has launched herself into the skies above National City that it clicks. Lena has lunch plans with Kara Danvers tomorrow, not with Supergirl.

Lena knows.

Shocked and distracted, Kara crashes into a billboard. She wonders if Lena will pay for that, too.

[pshcomforts]

➳ love wins all | yjw.

idol!jungwon x fem!reader

“is it a bad ending?”

synopsis: jungwon, once again, forgot an important date for your guys’ relationship, and you’re tired of it.

warnings/content: written in third pov. angst to fluff. argument! toxic if you squint really hard. mentions of breakup. poor boy’s stressed out :( cursing (i think) and not proofread.

comments, likes, and reposts are appreciated :)

word count: 1.8k

༘˚⋆𐙚｡masterlist⋆.✧˚

current song playing: love wins all by iu

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

1:05 ─────|────────────── -3:22

the time was ticking.

y/n constantly looked at the clock, noticing the minutes go by faster than she thought. she sighed, “he didn’t really forget did he..?” the soft mumble leaving her lips as she didn’t want to believe it.

[ 1:24 am ] — the phone beamed.

she was beginning to give up on him. “just a few more minutes…,” the girl murmured, pushing back the tears that threatened to fall.

[ 1:40 am ] — time turned.

her heart sank at how long it’s been. she then decided to clean up the big surprise she had for her boyfriend, putting things away messily while letting tears dropping atlas as she felt useless.

suddenly, the door was being struggled to get unlocked. y/n waited, knowing that it was finally him but had no hopes anymore.

the doorknob was soon unlocked and in came her dimpled boyfriend, still in his practice outfit and seemingly fighting the urge to sleep.

no words were said. she only looked at him with disappointment. jungwon made eye contact with her once he took off his shoes and gave out a long sigh.

“oh hey baby,” he whispered, breaking the long silence that felt like torture

y/n didn’t answer right away. she waited for her throat to clear from the tears she let out.

“won, do you know what today was…?”

the tired male sighed in defeat, giving a clear hint to her that he had forgotten. “um…,” his one word changed y/n’s mood.

“i know you’re tired from practice, but i waited… for 4 hours.., you gave no message whatsoever, and i even told you how important this dinner was for us. did you even know it was our anniversary?”

y/n finally broke loose, letting out what she had been holding in for the past few hours in his absence. she looked at him, seeing if there was any mercy in his eyes but he only looked tired.

finally, he hoarsely spoke, “i know… i’m sorry i forgot.”

the girl scoffed at his words, tears falling constantly down from her eyes that had become red.

“that’s all you have to say??”

jungwon sighed again, his arm falling over his eyes as he said, “what do you want me to say?” in a tiring voice.

y/n stayed quiet in disbelief that her boyfriend of two years was really acting like this. “wonie, you don’t even remember our anniversary and now you’re not even being sincere with me?”

“look babe, we got heavily yelled at today and-“

“and that’s supposed to affect how we are at home?”

“why are you making it a bigger deal than it should be?” he quickly shot back.

jungwon sat up, finally making eye contact with his girl after a while. his eyes stayed firm and serious, no longer looking like the adorable boba eyes she once knew throughout the years.

“won, for the last few months, i’ve been feeling like i’m the only one in a relationship and it’s been getting tiring. i understand you have a busy schedule but-“

“if you understand then why are you even bringing this up?” the boy exasperated with a groan.

she huffed. he wasn’t understanding her point, and it was getting to her.

“because i feel like you don’t even understand me,” y/n’s voice trembled. quite suddenly, won stopped and finally took focus into her after he heard it.

“for so long, i feel like i’ve been putting effort only.” she added on, heart crumbling apart piece by piece.

jungwon sighed as his fluttering eyes stayed glued to the ground while mumbling, “you know how important it is to me to be in enhypen. you know that it’s what i’ve wanted for so long.”

the girl sniffled and wiped her tears away. “i know.. i do, but lately, you’ve been so distant. every mistake you’ve done in this relationship, i’ve excused but now.., you forgetting our anniversary is something i can’t look past on.”

he rolled his eyes, getting tired of going back and forth on this argument.

y/n took notice. of course she did. that little gesture was something unusual from her boyfriend. “you’re not even listening to what i’m saying won-“

“because! what you’re saying is nonsense. i’ve been going through so much as the leader for our comeback — keeping everything in order, making sure all the members are prepared..,” he sighed in exhaustion before continuing.

“i’m tired, and the last thing i want is to come home to an argument waiting to happen, which has been going on for a while, for absolutely no reason at all.”

the long awaited argument was now out.

jungwon had finally exploded, raising his voice in frustration whilst cutting her off in the process.

she was taken back by it of course, not knowing what to say as she stayed silent to what he said. he still wasn’t listening to her.

the male put his hands over his face and rubbed his eyes, almost feeling guilty of his explosion.

y/n took notice, sighing with a heartache inside as she huffed, “if it’s always going to be like this then.. maybe it’s best if we’re not together anymore.”

the sudden suggestion jolted jungwon from his half-asleep state. he stood and walked to her.

“you can’t be serious, y/n??”

his voice rose again, causing the girl to close her eyes from it. he sighed, half in regret and half in frustration.

“you really think your solution to this is breaking up?” he questioned.

the two were letting tears fall now, breakdowns happening left and right.

his hand touched her gentle cheek, subtly wiping away her tears as he slightly pushed her cheeks up so she can look at him. a small smile attempted to display on his lips for reassurance but y/n only turned away from the skinship.

she knew that most of their fights always ended like this, and she couldn’t have it like that anymore.

it was quiet.

nobody wanted to say anything that could ruin the mood even more. it remained like that before the girl suddenly heard the ruffles of his clothing and keys, knowing he was about to head out of the door.

she dreaded to ask the question but she had to. “did you ever really love me?”

the question stopped jungwon from walking any further. they both swiftly turned to each other, locking their watery eyes with betrayal and hurt emerged on their faces.

“that’s too much!” his voice broke in the sudden yell, causing the two to tremble down into more crying tears.

y/n felt everything crashing down, pain entering through her body all at once.

“i used to never question that until now, won.” she uttered in a shaky tone.

finally, he approached her after what she said. his eyes were filled with just as much pain as hers as they sparkled.

the boy wanted to apologize but he didn’t know how with how far they had gotten into it. none of their arguments had ever been this bad.

“you know i love you y/n…, you’re my girl. i can’t even imagine a life without you. you’re the only thing that matters in my life right now. i enjoy being an idol but you? you come first. you always will.”

a few voice cracks happened in his message that showed his raw emotion.

he locked eye contact with her, showing her his tears that he couldn’t control through it all.

✩ ‘i carefully hold you in my eyes’ ✩

y/n didn’t respond. she still felt hurt that he forgot the big and small events he used to know.

the girl only hugged him, squeezing him in her embrace that made the two only cry harder in each others arms.

she still said nothing.

the two stayed like that for a few minutes as she let jungwon cry it out.

only soft sobs and quiet sniffles were heard throughout the apartment. he was going through so much as the leader and this hug was what he needed.

✩ ‘hold me tight until i can’t breathe’ ✩

y/n needed more though. she wanted to hear his usual whispers of sweet nothings, his unique voice that always tingled in her ear, his warm hugs that felt like home.

✩ ‘i want to be sad with you my lover’ ✩

so she let him continue to sob until he felt better, and it was then that she left his embrace.

his favorite girl placed her hand on his tear-stained cheek in the process, only giving a half smile and leaving to their bedroom.

there were still no words said after that.

jungwon stayed out in the living room, sitting on the sofa as he continuously rubbed his eyes in frustration.

he was tired, and he just wanted the night to end.

after sitting with his thoughts for a few minutes longer, he finally decided to look at the clock.

[ 3:16 am ] — it read.

won sighed, believing that it was finally time to head into the bedroom as well.

as he stepped further to their room, he saw y/n on the very edge of her side of the bed. his heart ached, knowing he messed up big time.

“are you awake?” his soft voice spoke, standing where the door frame was in hesitation.

his adorable lips pressed into a thin line, showing his dimples as he contemplated on whether or not he should be in the same bed as her after the argument.

‘please… stay with me..,’ his favorite person thought, wide awake as she pretended to sleep.

truth be told, she didn’t know what his choice would be. it felt like she didn’t know who jungwon was anymore.

y/n stayed on her side of the bed, heart trembling in fear of how things would turn when suddenly feeling a huge dip on her opposite side.

he stayed.

a relief sighed out of her, though remaining sound asleep in his eyes.

he laid down on his side, abruptly pulling his girlfriend closer to him.

she felt the pull and complied. his body ghosted over hers as she turned around to come face to face with him.

the girl’s eyes slowly opened to meet his, and all he could do was display his subtle surprise that she was awake.

but they quickly softened at her reddened eyes that cried for comfort.

tears welled up in the two again.

their pillows became wet with them as jungwon softly mumbled — “i love you, baby.”

y/n sniffled her snot back in before replying, “i love you too.”

he sniffled as well, moving to kiss her forehead and pull her closer to him.

the tall male wrapped himself around his girlfriend, holding her near to let her know that he wouldn’t let her go that easily.

jungwon and y/n let the last of their tears leave their tired eyes for the night as her hand rested on his broad chest, and his arms confirmed the reassurance she needed.

they were okay again.

✩ ‘our love wins all, love wins all’ ✩

★・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・★