#Well. But I’ll have my own job… I suppose I could leave them to a subordinate— nevemind that I’m taking the damn horde with me to court.

[chilapis]

Speaking of family…. Chilapis family? 5 children. Maybe more.

[neil-gaiman]

Hi Neil,

I write to you because I find myself without answers, and who better to turn to than you, the person who has arguably raised the most questions in my life due to your lovely stories.

I currently live with my dad and step mother, his two sons (my brothers) and her two children. There are a lot of us in one space right now and it’s safe to say we don’t get along very well.

Getting to the point, I want to live on my own. I have the means to do so (hypothetically). I have a job and a car and savings put back, but up until recently it hadn’t occurred to me that leaving was an option. I always thought it wasn’t allowed for some reason. That there would be consequences for revoking my presence from them like I’m their favorite toy instead of a person.

The fear, I suppose, is that they won’t forgive me for leaving. That I’ll leave and fail somehow. That I won’t be able to come back from the hubris that is thinking I could do things on my own. Truly though, the real danger is that I’ll never be in a place where I can be myself without some all consuming guilt gnawing at my stomach.

The question is whether or not to deal with the current circumstances or risk losing everything for the chance at success.

Can you get the things you want and keep the things you have?

Sincerely, a huge fan wishing they had a beloved Bentley to live in and offering condolences for the rant.

As a parent, you are doing your job when your children leave the nest and become independent. It means you did something right.

As a child, it's always scary to leave. But it's necessary. You aren't punishing the people you are leaving. You are beginning your journey to independence.

[charliemwrites]

Part 4 of Mafia!Price

No Content Warnings

There are many things to appreciate about your boss, but one of them is his respect for routine. You’ve gotten him on a schedule and now he seems happily beholden to it; appreciates your promptness with tea and pastries and morning “briefings” each day.

He’ll happily sit back in his big leather chair and listen to you chatter out his itinerary for the day. Meetings, reports, phone calls. Trips to the dock, now, bless him.

You try not to stare between glances at your tablet. For a rich bastard, he is unfairly handsome. Good taste in just about everything, classy and luxurious without being ostentatious. Old money vibes, for sure, though you know better than to do more than idly wonder. Helps that he’s also remarkably gentlemanly with you. You’re not one to buy into old stereotypes or gender roles, even the ones that benefit you — but you���ll take a chivalrous boss over your old one any day.

Besides, it’s not like he’s spouting off about what women should and shouldn’t be doing. Or trying to use you as an example of an “acceptable” working woman. So, yeah, you’ll indulge in the door-holding and offered arms.

“Alright, best for last — your reservation for Muse is tomorrow. The restaurant is twenty minutes from your penthouse, so Simon will be downstairs by 7:30.”

You check that off your to-do list as you continue speaking.

“Do you have a suit picked out yet, or should I order something? Green is in season and it would go nicely with your eyes.”

He hums; you glance up. Leaning back, one arm lax on the arm of his chair, black watch gleaming. The other is propped to press his index finger against his lips. Like he’s telling you to keep a secret. The corners of his mouth are tilted up.

Your tablet dings and thankfully distracts you from staring.

Oh, for the love of— the only person more inconsiderate than Philip Graves is his damn assistant.

“Is that the color you’re wearing, then?”

Will need to call later today — as if!

“Hm?” You ask, not having caught it.

He arches his eyebrows; ah, you must have been making a face again.

“Are you wearing green tomorrow?” He repeats.

You blink. Are you what?

“Tomorrow, sir?”

He nods, once. “To Muse, luv.”

When you continue to stare with pleasant obliviousness, his eyebrows furrow a bit.

“You do know one of those seats is for you, yeah?”

You press your lips together for a moment. Well… shit. You take it back. You take it all back. John Price is a terrible, horrible, awful man who is so rude.

“I do now.”

Across the office, you make wide eye contact with Gaz. He grimaces in sympathy and ducks his head, though it’s clearly just to hide his traitorous laughter.

“Of course you’re coming along.”

“Sir,” you say, pleasant and sweet, “remember when I first started here? And I told you that I’m not a mind reader?”

“Of course,” he answers. “You threatened to spit in my tea in the same breath.”

“Only if you told me to fetch it for you,” you correct, before continuing, “I feel you may need a reminder: I cannot read your mind. How was I supposed to know you wanted me to go with you?”

“‘S your job, isnit?” He replies. You give him a dark look; he puts his hands up with a chuckle. “My apologies love, I thought you’d be in my pocket next to my handkerchief. Like always.”

You set your hand on your hip, proper cross now.

“It’s outside usual working hours, sir. How could I have possible expected to be invited to your fancy man party?”

“‘Fancy man party’?”

“Well, there’s nothing for it, I’ll have to leave early tomorrow.”

You’re already tapping madly at your tablet, looking up a salon willing to do your hair and makeup. God knows what kind of meltdown you’ll have if you can’t get your eyeliner symmetrical.

“Do whatever you need to do, luv,” Price soothes, standing. “I really am sorry for the short notice.”

You wave him off, then pat his arm as he gently guides you towards the door. Absently, you comply, more focused on getting appointments set and rearranging your own schedule for tomorrow.

“I’ll make it work,” you promise, “I always do.”

You let him bring you all the way to your desk, lower yourself into your ergonomic rolling chair.

“I’ll let you know what color I’m wearing by… one o’clock. Yes?”

“Sounds great, luv.”

You glance at the clock. “Also you have a call with the KorTac Group in ten.”

He chuckles and taps your chin. “Cheers, luv.”

—

Simon is the one to pick you up Friday evening. You both pause in the lobby of your apartment complex, staring.

“You look lovely,” he says at the same time you ask, aghast, “what happened to your face?”

He’s got a dark bruises discoloring the skin around one eye. Clearly some ice has already been applied because the swelling is down, but it must be fresh because he didn’t have it yesterday.

He snorts. “My job happened.”

You tut. “I’ve got something for that but we need to get moving. Mr. Price said he needs some help with his suit.”

You grab his arm without hesitation, habit from any of your escorts or drivers always offering it to you. Usually you accept out of politeness, but tonight you could use the extra stability in your heels. Simon doesn’t seem to mind even though this is the first time you’ve done this.

He walks you to the car, holds the door for you. Sleek and spotless, a black Jaguar — your choice for the evening. You hum in delight at the warm interior as Simon slides into the front seat.

“Oh, thank you for the compliment, by the way,” you add as he pulls into traffic. “You look quite smart as well.”

He grunts, but you notice a bit of color to his ears in the passing streetlights. You smile to yourself and busy yourself with your tablet. Double checking the reservation confirmation, answering messages from Farah and Gaz, updating Price on your ETA.

The car stops at a luxury high rise just at 7. You hop out before Simon can get the door and receive a sharp look. He holds up a reprimanding finger; blink in surprise at the sternness of it.

“You pull that shite again and I’ll handcuff you to the door handle, miss.” He warns. “Making me look bad.”

You huff, amused, and take his arm again. “Don’t threaten me, Mr. Riley, I’m meaner.”

But you squeeze his thick bicep good-naturedly as he leads you into Price’s building. Your boss lives in the penthouse at the very top; Simon has to swipe a card for access. He’s also got a key to let you both in the door, holds it so you can enter first.

It’s all sleek and modern; not at all what you would expect of your boss’s more classical style. His office has a sort of 20s Hollywood vibe (gangster, you teased once) but clearly some interior designer was paid far too much for something out of a drab minimalist catalogue.

You don’t linger long, heels clicking on the polished floors.

“Sir?” you call.

“In here, luv.”

You grimace at the flight of stairs between you and the loft, but force yourself up them. The whole floor is the mater bedroom and it’s the size of your entire apartment. Walk-in closet, sectioned off lounge with a desk. His bathroom door is open, mirror fogged. It smells like soap.

“Bedroom to your right,” he calls.

You tip-tap in and your mouth instantly dries. Price is standing in the middle of the room, half dressed. Nothing unprofessional, no. He’s wearing slacks, a belt. But he’s also in socks, a white undershirt. No watch or rings or anything yet.

It feels oddly more intimate than it should. Your face warms despite yourself.

“E-evening, sir.”

He turns and you’re utterly unprepared for just how handsome he really is. Freshly groomed, hair trimmed and gelled, eyes bright.

“Well, aren’t you just a dream,” he rasps. “You’re stunning.”

You clear your throat, know that all the makeup in the world can’t hide how brightly you’re flushing. It’s pure politeness, he’s not looking at you with anything more than friendly appreciation. Mind out of the gutter, now.

“All the flattery in the world won’t save you if we’re late,” you manage, shaking yourself back into work mode. “So let’s see what we’ve got.”

You pick his shirt, a pocket hanky, his shoes. Tell him to get into those while calling Simon up the stairs. He’s there so fast you blink in surprise, then gesture him over. Sit him on an ottoman and extract the little bottle of makeup you’ve started keeping on hand for situations like this.

“Bullshite you had that in your purse,” he scoffs.

“You remember two weeks ago, when Soap came in with that bruise on his jaw?”

They told you it was a “disagreement” at the docks. You didn’t ask further, figuring it was some sort of bar brawl in that part of town. Rowdy boys.

“Ever since, I keep a couple minis on hand for you all.”

They’re so small that you just keep them in a pocket of your purse with the rest of your makeup and the tampons. Good for emergencies like this.

“You sure you’re not a mind reader?” Simon grumbles as you gently dab it over his face.

“How would being a mind reader even help in this situation,” you scoff, patting at it with your middle finger.

Price steps out of the closet with arms out. He’s picked a waistcoat as well that you hum in approval at.

“Which cufflinks are you wearing?” you ask, turning back to Simon. He’s sitting remarkably still and stoic — reminds you of a big dog trying to maintain some dignity while getting fawned over.

“The silver and diamond.”

You make a noise of disagreement. “The gold and onyx would go better.”

A pause. You sneak a glance and are relieved to see him smirking. “I’ll wear those then. Any opinion on a watch?”

You hum again, carding through your mental catalogue. “Oh! The Bulova you wore during that meeting with Kate Laswell. You remember?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He disappears into his closet again while you lightly blend in the last touches of Simon’s coverup.

“There we are, good as new!” You declare. “Oh, and here.”

You set a couple of ibuprofen in his palm as he stands. “For the inflammation. Take with water.”

“Yes, mum,” he mumbles.

You wince. “Sorry! I’m being overbearing, aren’t I?”

He blinks, then puts a hand up. “No, no. That wasnt — I didn’t mean it in a bad way.”

You don’t entirely believe him. Know that you can be a bit much when you’re on a time crunch. Especially for something like this — an important business meeting over fancy dinner. You feel like everyone’s appearance is riding on you; this is your job after all. One thing out of place and everything will fall apart and it’ll be your fault.

“Simon, go take those,” Price orders from behind.

You turn as he approaches, a similar apology all set on your tongue. Instead, he gives you a sheepish smile and offers the cufflinks.

“Bloody useless with these,” he explains. “So unless you want to spend fifteen minutes losing respect for me…”

You laugh, amused by the idea of your hyper-capable boss struggling with a bit of jewelry that cost as much as a week of work. You step in close to thread them through his sleeves, fingers nimble and sure.

“You’re not wearing cologne?” You ask, surprised.

Don’t even realize how that might sound until he arches an eyebrow at you.

“Thought you might have an opinion on that too,” he replies. “And you haven’t steered me wrong, yet.”

He shows you his modest, but impressive collection of colognes. You pluck up one, sniff, and make a face, eyes watering a bit. It’s mostly full; clearly one he doesn’t wear often and you’re grateful for it.

“That bad, eh?”

“Sir, why?” You lament, putting it back.

“Gift from an ex,” he explains.

You store that tidbit of information away for further examination. The idea of your boss in a romance. Right now you’ve got a task to focus on.

“Did they hate you that entire time?” You wonder.

He snorts. “Maybe.”

You shake your head and pick a different one. Blink in surprise and sniff again. Feel your stomach flip.

“That one?” He asks when he notices you hesitate.

“No,” you say a little too quickly, setting it down. This is a business meeting, you can’t afford to be distracted by how he’ll smell with that on his skin.

You settle on one that doesn’t make your head dizzy and your panties shamefully damp. Still feel a bit like you’re shooting yourself in the foot, though. He’s going to smell sinfully good regardless.

You leave Price to his finishing touches and have Simon help you down the stairs. Check through the notes you hurriedly collected when you realized you’d be attending this dinner.

Price comes down too soon for your poor, stupid heart. Looks like something out of a magazine or a novel or a movie or… just too good to be real, really.

“Pass inspection?” He asks.

“Barely,” you tease.

His eyes do that thing where they smile more than his mouth; how you know it’s genuine. You try not to fluster, zero in on his tie, a little crooked and loose.

“Goodness, sir,” you murmur, stepping in close. Yeah, you were right. That cologne is going to be a personal challenge all night. “How did you get along before me?”

“With bad cologne and shitty ties, apparently,” he chuckles.

You grin despite yourself, getting it secure and centered, before smoothing his vest over it. Give him a once over. Feel your stomach flip again.

“If I may say, sir, you look handsome,” you offer quietly.

“Should hope so,” he replies, voice dipping in a way that’s detrimental to the state of your panties. “You dressed me.”

You hum, reach for your usual dry, sharp humor. “I have great taste.”

Instead of scoffing, he hums in agreement. Something flickers through his eyes that you don’t dare allow yourself to daydream on.

Simon, bless him, clears his throat and draws your attention. You check the clock above the stove.

“Ah, we need to get going. I can’t walk fast in these heels.”

You slip your arm automatically into Price’s and try not to obsess over how well you two fit together.

[goldengalore]

Ready

An anxious!reader fic.

Summary: Harry wants kids. Y/N isn’t sure what she wants. Feeling pressured to make up her mind, she agrees to something she’s not ready for.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: angst, smut

A/N: Hello! It’s been a while. This fic is based on this ask I received forever ago. Enjoy :)

***

Y/N has always been on the fence about having kids.

As a young teenager, she assumed she would have them when she grew up, fell in love, and got married. Social norms, along with her own childish naivete, made her believe that this was the only path one could take in life. Having children was the next logical step to marriage, which was the next logical step to falling in love.

And then she matured and realized that life is not nearly as cut-and-dry, that having kids is a choice, not a necessity, and that she can absolutely go her whole life without having any if that’s what she wants. This realization came as a relief but also felt somewhat unnerving because how is she supposed to know what she wants? She is quite possibly the most indecisive person on the planet, so it’s no surprise that she has bounced back and forth between wanting and not wanting children throughout her entire adult life.

On one hand, she thinks of her friends who have kids and how their lives have become utterly consumed by the little humans that require their constant care and attention. There is just so much that Y/N wants to experience and achieve before settling into a life like that.

Not to mention the horrors of pregnancy. It’s not exactly a walk in the park, having to carry a human life inside of you for nine months and then give birth to it. The health complications, the irreversible bodily changes, the sheer, agonizing pain of childbirth.

And yet, on some days, she fantasizes about becoming a mother, of holding a tiny life in her arms and nurturing it into a full-grown adult. An important character in these fantasies has always been the sweet, thoughtful, loving partner by her side who takes equal responsibility for their child. This person was always a faceless individual—an idealistic depiction of the kind of partner Y/N hoped to find someday.

And then Harry came along.

Sweet, thoughtful, loving Harry who, unlike her, was always sure of his desire to have kids. For him, it was never a question of whether he wanted them but a question of when.

That moment finally arrived for him a year ago. But Y/N wasn’t sure if she felt ready yet.

“What are you afraid of?” he asked her one day. “I don’t mean that in a judgemental way. Bringing a child into this world is scary for anyone, including myself. I’m just curious to know what your specific concerns are.”

“Well, there’s the usual stuff, like whether or not I’ll be a good mother—”

“You’ll be a phenomenal mother.”

She smiled at him, then continued, “Or whether my kids will be able to have a good future with so much chaos in the world...” She trailed off hesitantly.

“But there’s something else,” he said, gently urging her to share what was really holding her back.

“I… I’ve always been terrified of the idea of having to raise a child alone, either because something bad happens to the father or he leaves out of the blue or we break up and I’m left to take care of this child by myself. I know it sounds ridiculous, but I… I’ve never been able to shake this fear.”

“Doesn’t sound ridiculous to me. I was raised by a single mother, so I know it’s not an easy job.” He reached for her hand and kissed her knuckle, never breaking eye contact. “But I’m not going anywhere, Y/N. You know that, right? We’re in this together. We’re a team, always.”

She nodded. “I know.”

“Well, I’m alright with waiting until you feel ready. I want us both to feel ready before we jump into this.”

In the six months following that conversation, the topic would crop up several more times, like after Harry saw her interacting with his godchildren at a party or they walked past a cute baby in a stroller at the grocery store. Y/N didn’t mind discussing the topic. It gave her a chance to ponder and become more comfortable with the concept of motherhood.

Yesterday, Harry returned home from a month-long movie shoot in Sweden. Y/N surprised him by showing up at the airport. What he doesn’t know is that she has another surprise in store for him.

While he was in Sweden, she decided to go off her birth control and now wants to try for kids.

She plans on telling him later tonight once they get home from their friend’s birthday party. They’ve been all over each other tonight. That’s what being apart for a month does to them. Hell, even a week apart is enough to turn them into a couple of horny teenagers that can’t keep their hands off each other.

“You look so hot in that dress,” Harry whispers in her ear, half-joking because they both know this is his fifth time saying that tonight.

Emboldened by a couple glasses of wine, a tipsy Y/N whispers back, “I want you to put a baby in me.”

His eyes widen. He chuckles. “That wine bringing out your wild side?”

“I’m serious,” she states, glancing around to double check that no one is within earshot of their conversation. “I went off my birth control a month ago, after you left for Sweden.”

He stares at her blankly, like her words haven’t quite sunk in.

“H, I’m ready to do this.”

“Really?”

She smiles. “Yes.”

“We’re doing this,” he says as it finally sinks in. He kisses her wine-stained lips. “Let’s get out of here, yeah?”

“Yes, please.”

Y/N can hardly keep her composure on the way home. Harry appears to be in the same boat, as he keeps sneaking glances at her while driving, his hand caressing her thigh. While he’s always been a responsible driver, she can sense the impatience in his maneuvers tonight.

Once they’re home, it’s almost a race to the bedroom. Harry gently pushes her onto the bed and climbs on top of her.

“Do you have any idea how hard it’s been to watch you walk around in this dress tonight”—he runs a hand down her front—“and not be able to bend you over and just slip my cock into you?”

She moans as he cups her pussy through her dress with a firm hand. He lets her grind against it for a minute before pulling away to take off his clothes. She follows suit.

Soon, they’re back on the bed, sharing another series of ardent kisses. By the time he goes down on her, she’s already dripping wet and he licks it up as if he hasn’t had a drop of water in days. Her hips grind against his tongue like they did against his hand just a moment ago. It doesn’t take her long to orgasm.

He shifts up the bed to hover over her body. He kisses her again while lining up his cock with her entrance. As he slides into her, she feels a slight discomfort from being stretched open for the first time in a month. He pulls out and pushes in a little deeper each time to let her adjust until he fills her up completely and she’s too immersed in pleasure to have a single coherent thought anymore.

“Fuck, you feel incredible,” he says, starting to pump in and out. “Gonna come inside you, yeah? Gonna come deep inside your tight little cunt and fill you up, put a baby in you. Is that what you want?”

Those words flip a switch in Y/N’s mind. She makes an involuntary noise that makes it seem like she’s agreeing with him, so he picks up his pace. Just as he finishes inside her, the terrible realization dawns: She is not ready to have a baby. Not at all.

“I love you,” Harry whispers in her ear, his body resting flush against hers as he comes down from his high.

Tears spring to Y/N’s eyes as she realizes what she’s done, what they’ve just done. When she doesn’t reciprocate his statement, he lifts his head to look at her. A tear escapes her left eye at that exact moment.

Concern furrows his brow. “Lovie? Hey, what’s wrong?”

She just shakes her head while staring at the ceiling.

“Y/N.” He caresses her cheek, urging her to look at him. “What’s the matter? Are you hurt? Did I go too—”

“We shouldn’t have done this. It was a mistake,” she says in a trembling voice.

“What are you talking about?”

She tries to sit up. Harry moves out of her way.

“I’m not ready, H. I’m not ready to have a baby.”

His face falls. “I— But— Then why did you say you were ready?”

“I don’t know… To make you happy?” She covers her face and hears him sigh heavily.

“Y/N, you can’t— You can’t lie about things like that just to make me happy. It’s not like we were deciding what to have for dinner. We’re talking about having a baby, for Christ’s sake.”

“I know that. Of course I know that. But I just— I see the disappointment in your face every time we talk about this, every time I tell you I’m not ready. You seem so sad, Harry. I hate it.”

“Well, I’m sorry I’m not able to hide my emotions as well as I thought I could. That still doesn’t mean you should lie to please me. I thought we were past foolish antics like this.”

She squints at him. “Foolish antics?”

He sighs again. “I didn’t mean it like—”

She turns away from him and gets off the bed.

“Y/N.”

She shuts herself in the bathroom. For a brief moment, a part of her resents him. Resents him for being ready to have kids before she was. For bringing it up so often. For making her feel as though she needed to lie about being ready just to make him happy.

But now, as she stares at her teary-eyed reflection in the mirror, she knows she has to take responsibility. She is the one who led him to believe that she was ready when deep down, she knew she wasn’t. He never once pressured her to make up her mind or acted like he loved her any less for not wanting kids yet. He never made her feel any type of way about it. He has done nothing but be the supportive, understanding partner he’s always been. It was her who doubted that. She let her own paranoia get to her.

Knock, knock, knock.

“Y/N? Can I come in?”

A few moments later, he knocks again.

“Please, lovie? I’m getting worried.”

Finally, she opens the door. He takes in her red, puffy eyes and tentatively places his arms around her, only pulling her in when she steps into his embrace.

They stand there silently until he says, “Why don’t we head over to the pharmacy and get you a morning after pill?”

She agrees, so they get dressed and head out. The ride to the pharmacy is a quiet one. Every time she glances at Harry, his eyes are focused on the road, both hands gripping the steering wheel, and he appears deep in thought. It’s the complete opposite of their ride home from the party, when he could hardly keep his hands or his eyes off her. She tries to think of ways to break the silence, but nothing feels appropriate. The last time she felt so awkward and unsure about what to say around Harry was when they first started going out and she was terrified of saying the wrong thing.

When they get back from the pharmacy, she swallows down the pill with some water and they head back to bed.

***

Y/N: Hey H, you on your way home? Hope you’re hungry, I made your favourite for dinner 😊

H: I have a business dinner tonight. Mentioned it this morning

Y/N: Oh! Sorry I forgot about that. I’ll save some in the fridge for you for tomorrow

H: Sure, thanks

Y/N stares at the message. She can’t tell if she’s reading into things or if Harry’s replies really are as dry and aloof as they sound. Her propensity to overanalyze everything makes it difficult to know. Ever since the incident in the bedroom a few days ago, it feels as though Harry has been avoiding her. Spending long days at the studio, coming home late at night when he knows she’ll be asleep, giving short replies, taking longer to text back. They haven’t had sex again since then either.

After scrutinizing their text conversation for twenty minutes, she comes to her senses and realizes that she can’t keep going on like this. It’s driving her crazy. What she needs to do is talk to him. But he’ll most likely be tired when he gets home.

At first, she thinks she’ll sit him down tomorrow morning and talk it out. But when he walks through the front door just after eleven o’clock that night, she can’t help herself.

She stands in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a cup of tea, when he enters. The dark circles under his eyes are noticeable. He has been willing to sacrifice his sleep just to avoid being around her any longer than he has to. Her chest constricts.

“Hey,” he says, placing his phone and keys on the counter. “You’re still up.”

“Can’t sleep.” She stares down into her half-empty mug, the remainder of the tea quickly growing cold.

“How come?”

“I can’t stop thinking.”

“About…?”

She swallows the lump in her throat and looks up at him. “About whether or not you’re upset with me and how I can fix it.”

He frowns. “Why would I be upset with you?”

“Because of what happened a few nights ago.”

His frown dissolves into something different—sympathy? Guilt?

“Y/N, I’m not upset with you about that.”

“Are you sure? Because it seems like it. You’re gone before I’m even awake and you come home when I’m going to bed. We’ve barely talked or kissed or cuddled in the past few days. I know you haven’t been that busy since you got back from Sweden, so… I don’t really see any other explanation.”

He stares at her wordlessly for a long time before speaking. “You’re right. I have been avoiding you. But it’s not because I’m upset with you. It’s because I’m upset with myself. I feel like I pressured you into doing something you obviously weren’t comfortable with. I never saw myself as someone who pressures people into doing things they don’t want to do. So, I suppose I’ve been feeling some shame and guilt about it… and then avoiding you because it’s hard to face these feelings.”

Y/N sets her tea on the counter. She never could’ve guessed that Harry felt this way. She was so convinced that he was mad at her, it didn’t even occur to her that he might just be feeling guilty about it all. After how long she has known him, it should have been obvious that the latter is more consistent with his character, but her anxious brain wouldn’t even let her consider that possibility. She walks over and wraps her arms around him.

“H, I had no idea you felt that way.”

He squeezes her tightly, resting his chin on her head. She turns her head to the side so that her cheek is against his chest.

“To be honest, there were times I felt pressured when the topic of kids came up,” she says. “But a lot of that pressure was created by my own fears and insecurities. I just hated disappointing you over and over. I was scared your feelings about me, about us, would change if I kept saying I wasn’t ready.”

“This hasn’t changed how I feel about you or us. Y/N, I want you more than I want kids. Way more. If you decided one day that you don’t want them at all, that still wouldn’t change how I feel about you.”

She pulls back to look at him. “Are you sure? That’s a dealbreaker for a lot of people.”

“Well, not for me. Not when it comes to you. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Suddenly, he lifts her up onto the counter and stands between her legs.

“So. What did you get up to today?” he asks, planting a kiss to her collarbone.

She rests her hands on his chest. “Hmm, what did I get up to? I hardly remember anything other than obsessing over this whole situation.” She laughs.

“Aw, lovie, I’m sorry I had you all stressed out.”

“It’s okay.”

“Maybe I can make it up to you. Help you relieve all that stress.” He peppers kisses along the side of her neck and jaw.

She sighs softly and closes her eyes. “I would like that.”

***

Thank you for reading! For more anxious!reader and other fics, check out my MASTERLIST

[sim0nril3y]

Deployment

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader Scenario: The time has come. It's his first deployment since you've become a couple. The goodbyes are difficult. Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), lots of angst, talking of leaving, talking of dying, canon-typical swearing.

One more night. One more night in his arms. What if he didn’t come back? What if he got hurt? What if he went missing? Honestly, you weren’t sure that you could cope with the never knowing what happened. Please, please, let there be some type of miracle that might happen so that Simon wouldn’t have to go. Things had been going so well, it simply wasn’t fair. If only he had any other job in the world. If only he was still a butcher, or something normal like that. Why now?

“Sleep.” Even with his eyes firmly closed Simon commanded you to rest. “You have work tomorrow.” Simon sounded tired, you supposed it was 2am, he had a right to be tired. “I don’t care.” You answered with a sad and quiet tone, eyes fixed on his sleeping frame in the pitch blackness that filled the room. “The morning is going to come whether you sleep or not.”

There was silence for a moment and Simon wondered if you had actually listened and then he heard it. Sniff. Then quiet. Sniff, sniff. Then even more silence before. Hck. Sniff. Sniff. His eyes pried open, adjusting momentarily before finding your face crumbling with emotion, lips firmly frowned and trembling, eyes filling fast with tears that were trickling down your face and soaking the pillow beneath you.

“Babe.” He whispered, reaching out to gently touch your shoulder, squeezing in a comforting way. “Don’t… Don’t bloody cry.” Simon whispered, his own voice a little thicker than usual. “Oi, c’mere.” Then pulling you across the sheets into his arms, holding you to firmly in his strong arms. “You dozy bloody moo…” He whispered, soothingly rubbing your back in small circles as you hiccupped and sobbed into his throat. “I know, I know.”

Honestly, he’d never had to deal with this before. Of course, he’d been around other colleagues and watched how hard it’s been for them to be away from their loved once. For him, it had been a very long time since he’d been in this place before and it was never like he had someone waiting for him to come home. It added an entirely different layer of fear, there was that fear of exposing you to danger but there was always a fear of leaving you. It felt like it hadn’t been that long since he’d learned to love you, allowed himself to let someone new into his life and now there was the possibility it could be all ripped away in an instant. Simon wanted more time, but that wasn’t something he was going to be afforded.

Still, even as your tears flowed Simon just held you, strong and tight in his arms, shushing you and caressing you so gently until your body just succumbed to exhaustion. It brought him pain to think of you being apart from him in mere hours now, sobbing yourself to sleep without his strong arms and his kind words. Fuck, it had never been this hard before.

The following morning Simon was up bright and early to finish his checklist. It seemed that you were restless too and that early awakening lead to you following him around like a lost puppy, eyes watching the clock as if counting down the seconds. “Babe, I’m just going to put some fuel in the car. I’ll be back. I promise.” He’d assured when your eyes had filled with wayward tears as he nabbed his keys. “Sweetheart, can I take a piss in peace, please?” He’d begged as you chased him into the bathroom for the second time that morning.  “I’m just going to get a loaf of bread from the other freezer, stay here.” He'd commanded as he unlocked the back door. “Babe, if you wanted to join me in the shower all you had to do was ask…” Simon had purred before you two fell into the steamy shower.

Later that morning you were munching down some toast, eyes fixed firmly on Simon as he made himself a strong tea. It was difficult thinking that tomorrow morning you would be going through this routine on your own. The thought alone was enough for a lump to stick awkwardly in your throat. “Right…” Simon began then, causing you to push down any of those awful feelings and focus. “I’ve left a list of numbers over there…” Turning he held his mug in hand and nodded in the direction of a lonely notepad, it was full of names and phone numbers and occupations. “Reckon they’ll be able to fix any problems you might run into, alright? I’m not gonna be able to be in contact all the time, so I need to know that if there is a problem here, or with you, or with the car that it’ll be covered.”

“Right.” You agreed gently, taking another solemn bite of toast. “Against my better judgement…” Simon continued, stepping across to sit opposite you at the kitchen table. “I’ve added you to my car insurance, use it when you need it, please don’t write it off.” There was almost teasing to his tone. “My driving isn’t that bad…” You grumbled and this only earned a smirk as he took another sip of his tea. “I’ve got all the utilities set up. The mortgage is on direct debit. I’m even paying that kid down the road to come a mow the garden whilst I’m gone, he’s happy to be making a little extra money and it’s one less thing for you to worry about, which means one less thing for me to worry about.” Simon explained.

A frown found your lips. “I’m capable of looking after myself and the house, you know…” Simon lets out a soft sigh then and replies. “I know, babe. I…” He seems to pause, as if taking a moment to find the right words. “I like to know that I’ve covered every possibility at home so I won’t have to worry when I’m out there…” Simon said it like out there was a very distant place, very cold, isolated and very far from you. “Okay?” Silently he was asking you to just trust him and give him these final few hours to make sure everything was set up in a way that gave him comfort, the comfort of knowing that you were safe at home. “Okay.”

The way that you watched the clock on the wall was like you were begging it for more time, making some kind of trade so that Simon wouldn’t need to go. Regardless of what you promised the time still came. There he stood loading his bags into the waiting cab, you stood a couple paces back wanting to give some space. “Let me drive you-” You attempted to persuade. “It’ll be too hard.” Simon answered with finality.

He closed the boot with a shunt and then turned to be looking at you. “It’ll be better to leave you here at home and then call you once I arrive on base. Okay?” It sounded like he was trying to convince himself too. “C’mon now…” He muttered, watching as finally the emotion broke over your face, all that strength crumbled and the tears began to trickle once again. “Oi…” Simon muttered, wrapping you into his warm strong arms. Those same arms you wouldn’t feel again for month. Your last embrace. “It’ll be easier like this. I promise. Easier for you. Easier for me.” Simon whispered, squeezing you so tight in his bulging arms. “I love you.”

It was something so rare and so emotional that you actually gasped, glancing up at him through your watery eyes. “Love you too.” Your words came out less controlled, spoken through a sob. “Love you.” You added, as if to make up for the initial emotional sentiment like Simon might have not been able to hear you over the lump in your throat. “Call me-” “I will.” There was a solid promise.

Then one final kiss. It was searing, his lips pressed against your own so hard that you thought he might bruise you. You never wanted this kiss to end. You didn’t want him to climb into the cab. You didn’t want his promises or his declarations of love and devotion. No, you just wanted him…

A second later Simon detangled you from his arms and climbed into the cab. He knew that one of you had to be strong in this moment and that you were never going to be the one to walk away, so he needed to. Even if it hurt more than being fucking shot Simon needed to step away. He had duty. He had honour. Someday maybe you’d understand, or maybe you never would, but he hoped that at least you’d find some type of normality without him around…

Once he’d arrived on base Simon got back into a routine seamlessly, everyone thought of him as the emotionless and stoic ‘Ghost’. That was all that he wanted to be to these people. The less they knew about his life the better, that way he could shield you from anyone using you against him. He’d never forgive himself… however, there was one person that needed to know. Officially, he needed to speak to Price, if the worst should happen you’d need to know.

It was late. Far too late to be doing all this, but Simon knew that his Captain would still be up. Rapping his knuckles hard against his door a voice called out and in he stepped. John sat at his desk, pouring over paperwork on his desk and gifting Simon a very tired smile as he entered. “Captain.” He kept his voice firm and professional as he entered. “Lieutenant, what do you need?”

For a moment Simon stood quietly, mouth pursed as if he racked his brains for the right words. “My next of kin…” “It’s blank – like we discussed.” About to dismiss him when Simon spoke again. “I need it changed.” John seemed shocked by these words, the argument that they had over not having one and now to have him so quickly change his mind. “What do you need from me?”

John blinked, once then twice before collecting a form from his desk. “Just jot their details down…” Passing over a pen as he watched Simon began to diligently fill in the boxes. His hand-writing was just as he expected, messy and haphazard, but his mind only went to Simon’s homelife… John wondered, did he have someone special? Who was it? What were they like? How long had they known each other? What was the relationship? All these questions that John wanted to ask, but knowing Simon wouldn’t get a single answer. “If I die, tell her.” Yanked back to reality with one simple sentence. “Not some letter. No some top brass. You tell her, Captain.” Sliding the piece of paper back in his direction. “Don’t tell her how - she won’t cope with that.” John nodded. “For fuck sake, don’t show her a body if there is one. She’d never sleep again.”

“Need you to make sure she gets access to my pension. I want every fucking penny of it going to her.” Simon placed down the pen hard on the table. “My house. My car. The shirt off my dead fucking back. I want it all going to her. Okay?” There was desperation in his tone. This was a conversation they were meant to be having 6 weeks ago, with legal and suits around to sign it all off. Not the night before he was going to be put on a plane into a warzone. “Simon-” “John, please…” He didn’t need to see the rest of his face to know that Simon was in anguish, his eyes were enough. “I’ll see that it happens.”

Masterlist | Ask | 10-04-2024

[star-eyed-angels]

Stray Kids Reaction | NSFW | Being Stray kids' Stress Toy (HYUNG LINE)

The times you become Skz'z personal stress toy

Word Count: 3.3k

A/N: ya girl is back after what feels like 17 years. So sorry for the delay, these ended up being WAY longer than I intended. As a peace offering, I'm releasing hyung line first so I don't keep y'all waiting even longer.

THIS IS NOT EDITED SO PLEASE BE KIND ITS 4AM RN🥹

Warnings: free use (literally all of them), sub/dom dynamics, nicknames, teasing, creampie, orgasm denial, overstimulation, biting, mirror sex, filming, spit kink, blow jobs, boob job, handjobs (It's 4am I'm so tired and definitely missing something, please let me know if something needs to be added)

Read at your own discretion

CHAN 

Looking back on it now, you find it funny how this whole arrangement started. You’d been one of the last staff members in the building, having lost a bet to work the night shift. You had just finished prepping for the next shoot when you’d walked by the studios. Seeing Chan’s light on was nothing new, he practically lived in the studio at this point. What was new was the sound of a loud thud shaking the door frame. You’d cautiously opened the door, to find Chan pacing the room.

“Chan? What’s wrong?” you rush into the room, assuming the worst.

“These stupid fucking deadlines. We’re not even finished with this track and they want three by next week on top of schedules, like are you fucking kidding me?!,” he growls out hand slamming against the wall again. You jump as the sound rattles around the room. You try to grab his shoulder gently to calm him. When you grab him he spins around pressing you into his desk. You gasp from the sudden movement, His eyes are dark as he stares down at you, face completely red, though you’re not sure if it’s from the anger he feels or his yelling. When he notices your wide eyed stare he comes back to his senses, taking a deep breath. 

“Sorry, sorry, it’s not you y/n. These schedules are just a lot right now,” he says, squeezing at your sides softly. You can’t help the way you shiver from his behavior, a warm feeling fluttering inside you. 

“It’s okay Channie,” you say softly, mentally kicking yourself from the way your voice sounds so breathless. He eyes you closely, a small smirk forming on his lips as he steps closer. The smell of his cologne is intoxicating, with the way it wraps around you. Of course Chan takes notice immediately, leaning closer to whisper in your ear.

“I think I’m just in need of a little relaxer… think you can help me with that pretty?” he says squeezing your side a little firmer. You can only nod, hands shaking as they pull him closer to you.

He has you bent over the desk, bottoms ripped enough for him to slide his cock into you with ease. Your hands are pinned behind you, easily held in one of Chan’s hands. The other grips your waist, your plush side spilling through his fingers. 

“Fuck look how well you’re taking me, pretty,” he says, now the breathless one. Each of his thrusts has the desk knocking against the wall. The edge of the desk digs into you, and you’re sure it’ll leave bruises for you to admire later. Chan fucks into you with a harsh pace, each press of his hips makes you crave him more and more. You wish you could articulate it to him in some way, but you suppose your broken moans will have to do for now.

“You’re so good letting me use you like this,” he says, leaning down to trail his lips across your cheek. You whine at the way he somehow manages to press deeper inside you. 

“Gonna be good and take my cum too, right? Gonna let me fill up this pretty hole?” he teases, feeling the way you flutter around him at his words.

“Fu- fuck! Yes Channie, I’ll be good, promise!” you cry out, squirming in his hold. He grips the back of your neck, pressing you harder into his desk as his hips pick up speed. 

“Beg for it pretty,” he commands, not once faltering in his face.

“Please use me! Please fill me up Channie, need it!” You beg, no longer caring about anything except having him finish inside you. Chan seems to be thinking the same thing, a loud groan filling the room as you beg. Chan lasts for a few more thrusts before his hips finally still. A loud growl escapes him as he finally cums inside you. The feeling forcing you into your own orgasm.

‘I think I’ll just have to call you every time I need to de-stress, okay pretty?” he pants out, hips still pressing into you. You can only offer a weak hum in return, but you’re more than happy to be a stress toy for him if it comes with pleasure like this.

MINHO

Eventually the arrangement turns into you being their ‘assistant’. It was a no brainer for them to have you join them when they travel for schedules, especially during tour season. Minho in particular gets pent up during their performances. If he makes a mistake, you’re always ready.

It doesn’t happen very often with the way Minho practically drills the choreography into his mind. But sometimes Minho finds himself a beat off, barely able to catch himself as he mixes up the choreo. Tonight it happens on their second song of the show, Minho’s movements beats ahead of the others. To everyone else he just looks like he’s hiding his grin, doing his best not to laugh on stage. But not to you. You wince as you watch his mistake in 4K on one of the dressing room screens. You can see the way his eyes harden ever so slightly, enough to know that he’s pissed.

After their sixth song is when they get backstage, rushing to the dressing room to get into their next outfits. 

Minho is the last to walk in, his eyes scanning the room before landing on you. His gaze darkens as he marches over to you. You let out a squeak as he shoves you over the arm of the chair, pulling your leggings just enough to push your panties aside. As per usual no one bats an eye as he yanks his pants down, entering you with no warning. 

“Fucking hell, why are you so tight?” he groans, hips picking up immediately as he pounds into you. HIs thrusts leave you breathless, unable to give him anything past gasps of his name.

“What, were you just waiting for one of us to come back here and fuck your cute pussy, is that it?” he teases, as he starts shucking his top off. The moans you let out come out choked as you struggle to catch your breath from how hard you're being pushed into the couch. With as much strength as you can muster, you turn to look behind you. You feel a hot wave of shame roll over you when you see Minho continue to dress himself as if he isn’t making you fall apart around him. 

He catches you staring out of the corner of his eye, grinning at the way you moan loader at the lack of attention. Just when you feel the pleasure build inside you, Minho’s pulling out and tucking himself back into his pants. 

“Be a good kitten and stay here, If you’re good maybe I’ll let you come at the end, okay?” he says, patting your side. You offer him a small whimper in return, struggling to regain your composure.

The rest of the concert passes in the same manner. During each outfit change Minho comes straight to you, slipping inside you with ease. Each time you plead with him to let you cum, practically sobbing into the couch with how needy you are. His only response is to pull your pants back up, and pat your hip. A smirk toying at his lips when he reminds you to be good for him.

You’re shaking by the time the encore rolls around. Every second that passes feels like an eternity, when the lights on stage finally go out, you feel like you could cry from joy. 

You’re not embarrassed at the way you turn over, presenting yourself to Minho when he and the other members walk through the door. It’s why he calls you kitten, you’re always acting like you’re in heat when he’s using you. 

“What a needy thing I have here, think you’re ready for your reward now kitten?” 

“Yes Minho! Please!!” You cry out, wiggling your hips to entice him. He’s behind you before you finish, hands ghosting over your hips slowly. 

“Min…” you sob out, turning to look at him pleading 

He huffs out a laugh, but still begins to unbutton his jeans. A groan escapes him when he fills you, watching your eyes flutter closed. He grips your hip in one hand, starting a brutal pace. 

“Come on kitty, give me what I want. Cum or you get nothing,” he orders, hand finding its way to your clit. You sob at the tingling pleasure that takes over you, mouth opening in a silent scream when you cum. 

“Good kitty,” he praises, fingers still toying with your clit. You whine, looking over your shoulder with pleading eyes. He only chuckles, of course you’d still be begging for more.

“What? Kitty still wants a treat?,” he teases, watching the way your eyes glimmer with need. You watch the way he bites his lip, hips ever so slightly rutting into you harder. You let your hand trail down to your core, pinching and pulling at your clit. You whine out Minho’s name as you clench around him, willing him to fill you. His hips stutter as your walls force him deeper inside you. A low moan leaving him as he cums without warning. He pulls out just in time to watch himself spill over your backside. You moan as another orgasm is forced out of you, making you tremble from the pleasure.

“Feel better kitten?” He asks, petting your hair. You nod muttering a small thank you as you keen into his soft touches. 

CHANGBIN

When it comes to Changbin, he likes when you suck him off in the studio. With constant planning of comebacks, 3racha are always writing and pitching songs for upcoming albums. Sometimes the company gives them pushback when it comes to creative control. Like today as you stand in front of a very pissed off Changbin. Anger practically rolls off him in waves after the recent meeting with the company. This is the fifth time this month that his songs have been rejected for an album. You’d been in that meeting with the members and watched as Changbin’s face dropped, his face twisted into a deadly glare. Chan and Jisung had both given you a knowing look which had you counting the seconds until the members were dismissed. You’d followed him back to the studio after the meeting, softly trying to calm him down. He still glares, as he grumbles about how the company is annoying. You watch as he drops onto the couch, slumping back grumpily. He continues to rant, only stopping when he notices you sink to your knees in front of him. 

He watches with narrowed eyes as you run your hands up the sides of his thighs. His breath hitches quietly as you part his legs. 

“Come on Binnie, let me make you feel better?” you ask looking up at him through your lashes.

He bites his lip, giving you a shy nod. That’s all you need before you coax him to lift his hips, tugging his jeans down to pool at his ankles. 

A shaky moan tumbles out of his lips when you mouth at his cock through his boxers. Your hands are still gliding over his thighs, leaving small pink lines where you rake your nails down his skin. While Changbin would never admit it, he loves when you have him like this. The others are more into control, but he wants you to turn him into a pliant mess. 

He’s squirming as your lips travel lower, your teeth nipping at his honey skin teasingly. You leave a trail of hickies on his inner thighs, just to listen to the way he gets breathless from the feeling.

“Fuck, please don’t tease. Need to feel your lips around me pretty,” he begs, doing his best to keep still. 

His hands dig into the leather of the couch as you finally take him between your lips. Moaning at the feeling of him resting heavily against your tongue. The head you give him is messy. Spit covering your lips as you bob your head, staring up at Binnie as you take him deeper with each breath. He’s a moaning mess, hands gently cradling the back of your head. 

“Thank you pretty, it feels so good to have your mouth around me, thank you.” he praises desperately. The shaky tilt to his praises is almost hypnotic, making you want to stay on your knees for him for as long as he begs you to. You’d do anything he’d ask if it lets you hear him whine and beg for you as if he isn’t fully capable of pinning you down to have his way with you.

When you finally find it in yourself to pry your lips off of him, Changbin feels like he could cum just from the way your face stares back up at him. Swollen lips, glossy from his precum, and a string of spit still connecting you to his cock. 

Changbin who does almost cum when you suddenly press his leaking cock between your tits. His brain goes haywire when you start to glide them over him. When his hips begin to messily thrust up, you only encourage him through soft moans.

“Doing so good for me, just want you to make yourself feel good, yeah” you ask, glancing up at him through your lashes.

“Yeah- yeah, feels good pretty. Always feels good with you…” he says breathless from the pleasure coursing through him. 

You’re tongue poking out to catch a taste of him, missing the feeling of him in your mouth. He keens at the lewd image before him, you on your knees as you give him the best head he’ll ever get. Binnie who all but cries when you ask him to cum for you, voice sweet as venom.

“Come on, give it to me, Binnie. Want you to cum for me,” you ask, staring up at him with a pointed look. He comes with a whiny moan, hips stiling as he spills over your chest. He pants as he comes down from his high, now watching you with half-lidded eyes as you lick the cum off yourself. Giving him a satisfied hum, when you notice him watching you. The anger he once felt is now replaced with the need to give you even a fraction of pleasure you just gave him. 

HYUNJIN

Hyunjin uses you mostly in the practice rooms. The way Chan lives in the studio, Hyunjin lives here. The first time you’re here with him, it's rushed and quiet. Constantly looking over your shoulders, too scared to lock the practice room to avoid any suspicion. This only backfires in the long ring making you crave more from Hyunjin. He feels it too. The way the adrenaline rushed through him as he fucked you with his hand over your mouth. The act does very little to muffle your cries of pleasure. By the time you were finished he had the same dazed look in his eyes. From then on it almost became a game, seeing how far he could push his limits with you.  Sex with Hyunjin gets dirtier after each session, both of you egging each other on to do more and more. Less and less do you worry about someone coming in and catching you.Though neither one of you would be opposed to getting caught is what you discover soon enough.

The stress of another award show looming over the group has everyone on edge. It came to a head tonight, after hours of practice Hyune still can’t get a move quite right. After what was probably the thousandth time he’s texting you, telling you to meet him. 

He has you  pressed against the mirror, his touch harsh and bruising as fills you.He loves to watch where you’re joined, eyes flicking between where he’s grinding his cock into you and the way your eyes roll into the back of your head at the pleasure. Your hands barely keep you in place against the fogging mirror. With each hard thrust your hands slide further down the mirror, barely being held up by Hyunjin’s bruising grip.

The room is filled with a playlist, painstakingly curated by none other than Hyunjin. He’d briefly explained it to you in a conversation overshadowed by the countless orgasms he’d given you that night. He punctuated each beat with a timed thrust, all the while whispering the dirty lyrics into your ear just to watch your breath hitch. 

The only other sound in the room is the breathless moans and lewd smacks of where his hips meet yours. But on rare meetups Hyunjin likes to pull out his phone and film you. His mouth running unfiltered as he records the both of you.  

In his defense he can’t help the need to film your pussy in the mirror. Low curses falling from his lips as he watches the slick drip down your thighs. He pans to your face as you cum for the third time, zooming into the tears that leak from your eyes as you moan. The camera pans back over to his face as he gives you another hard thrust, the camera catching his own eyes fluttering at the way you tremble around him. 

“Look at you, watching yourself getting fucked. Bet it feels good, doesn’t it?” He taunts, knowing how worked up it makes you.

“Yes Jinnie! It’s so good,” you gasp out, hands still scrambling at the mirror. 

“I know, look at the way you’re gushing. We’re gonna have to mop the floors again…” he tsks, mockingly.

“Sorry Hyun- Hyunnie!!” you cry out, though at this point you're not entirely sure what you’re apologizing for. Hyunjin eyes your trembling form with a smirk, camera already panning back to your face for his next words. 

“Maybe I can have you clean it yourself? Won’t you be a good doll and lick up your mess, hmm?” he asks, becoming breathless himself at the image. 

You’re coming before he finishes, walls holding him in with a tight grip. Your tears are now running down the mirror as you slump against it. Any strength you had left is now gone as you shake through your release. The orgasm that rips through you leaves you to let out a silent scream. Hyunjin lets you ride it out, not entirely bothered by not getting his own release. Instead he focuses on filming your form slump further against the mirror. He knows you’ll get on your knees and help him out when you can think properly again. Part of him hopes you’ll consider his suggestion, letting him film it to add to his favorite collection.

[yanderecrazysie]

Can I please request for yandere todoroki who at first was very cold and distant to you because he was unhappy with you and his quirk marriage courtesy of Endeavor. The reader tries to get along with him even making him cold soba and bringing it to him during his patrols. But todoroki remains stubbornly coldly ignoring the reader. One day the reader finally has enough and decides to just destroy the quirk marriage contract and leave for the countryside leaving everyone including Todoroki behind. Todoroki then starts to slowly fall for the reader now missing how the reader took care of him and cooked his favorite meals, he also starts to view The reader in as their own person without being clouded by his judgment. Todoroki then turns yandere out of shear yearning for you, he has recognized his mistakes and wants to make things right no matter the consequences, he will have you back and continue on with the marriage.

-Thank you for reading my request. I really love your writing especially the yandere cheater ones, they’re my favorite.

Thank you! And I’ll be glad to write this! ^-^

Title: Is It a Crime

Pairings: Todoroki Shoto x Reader

WARNINGS: Yandere themes

Summary: Shoto isn’t fond of the quirk marriage his dad has arranged. At least, he didn’t think so at first.

Part 2: here

“Is it a crime

That I still want you?

And I want you to want me too

My love is wider, wider than Victoria Lake

My love is taller, taller than the Empire State

It dives, it jumps, and it ripples like the deepest ocean

I can't give you more than that, surely, you want me back”

-from “Is It a Crime” by Sade

“Cold soba, just how you like it,” you try your best to smile warmly, but the glare he sends you is as cold as the dish you try handing to him.

“I’m not hungry.” 

Your smile falters a little, you had hoped that your cooking would get through to him. Wasn’t the fastest way to a man’s heart through his stomach?

Shoto resumes scrolling on his phone, indifferent to the sad look you give him. Your heart gives a painful tug in your chest- what were you supposed to do to get him to like you?

It wasn’t like you particularly wanted in this marriage either.

Your parents had left the final choice up to you, claiming that they’d be fine without the money, when you knew it was the opposite. They were too elderly to work and you couldn’t get a second job while in college to support them.

Endeavor had swooped in, offering to support your parents as long as you were married to Shoto. Evidently, he was drawn in by your powerful healing quirk, and could picture strong grandchildren that could use ice, fire, and heal themselves.

In order to give you and your parents security, you entered into the agreement, assuming Endeavor’s son was okay with the contract.

You were wrong.

Shoto seemed to hate you more and more with each passing day. He’d made it clear from day one what he thought of your marriage.

“I want nothing to do with the marriage, nor you. I will never love nor care for you like a husband should. Give up and go home.”

You were determined to continue the forced relationship, not willing to easily give up the life your parents would be supported by. Yet, no progress was made towards wedding plans nor any discussion of life after marriage.

Endeavor wasn’t pushy about when a wedding should be set, telling you that Shoto was “needlessly stubborn about things”. But you’d begun to worry that maybe he would never come around to the idea of loving you.

And, really, how could you expect that of him? It wasn’t fair to suddenly come into someone’s life and wait for them to love you like a husband loves his wife.

You retreated to the kitchen to deal with your thoughts, putting the soba in the refrigerator in case Shoto got hungry. You thought over what you should do, a little bored with the housewife position you’d been put in. Shoto was a pro hero, Endeavor one as well- you had no reason to even continue college. The two of them each had enough money right now to live off of three times over.

You were ready to hang on as long as it took.

Until you overheard Shoto on the phone.

“She’s annoying. Not my type at all. I could never love anyone like her, even without this quirk marriage nonsense my father is forcing on me.”

You felt tears pricking your eyes. He’d never, ever like you, would he? This was just a waste of time, until Endeavor either forced you into a wedding that made Shoto despise you even more, or canceled your contract for you.

You went straight to the number one hero himself, heart pounding in your chest as you approached his office and knocked quietly on the door. A moment later, you stood before him, those tears from earlier finally falling.

“Shoto will never love me. I think it’d be best for both of us if we… just… went our separate ways.” Your voice quavered, and your eyes closed tightly for the finish.

Endeavor sat back in his chair, obviously surprised, “But your parents-”

“I can quit college and get a second job.”

Endeavor blinked and, after an eternity, pressed on, “My son is stubborn, he has rebelled against me before. You should not take it personally.”

You considered his words. Perhaps Shoto didn’t hate you, just the arranged marriage. But then you remembered his words over the phone and started to cry all over again.

“No… no. I’m sure. I want to cancel the marriage. I’m sorry.”

Endeavor nodded, “I understand.”

Shoto woke up in a bad mood and it only worsened when he didn’t see you in the kitchen, making him breakfast. You always made him breakfast, so why not today? Were you sick?

He checked the fridge and found the cold soba from yesterday. Not exactly a proper breakfast, but it would do.

Sour expression on his face, he wondered why you weren’t awake, bustling around like a happy tornado, cleaning every surface like you had a grudge against it. Maybe you really were sick. He spooned soba into his mouth, debating whether or not to check on you.

Against his better judgment, he walked over to your room and knocked sharply on it. He gave an exasperated sigh when there was no response and opened the door, only to find… nothing. No clothes, no knick knacks, nothing that made the room uniquely you, like it had once been.

His heart sank in his chest and he leaned against the door, head hanging down as his thoughts raced. Wasn’t he supposed to be happy? Thrilled, even? This meant that the quirk marriage was over, right?

So why did he feel crushed?

Shoto stormed into his father’s office without knocking. “Where is she?”

Endeavor looked up from his paperwork, surprised. “Gone. The marriage is off.”

The younger man left, a hole deep in his heart where you had once been. He hadn’t realized it, so focused on hating you, but he couldn’t live without you. He felt like he was panicking, his breath was coming fast and heavy, his mind clouded with thoughts of you.

He knew where you lived, he’d been there once before to meet you. It wasn’t a far walk, and he’d be running.

He could be there in ten minutes. He was positive he could convince you to sign the contract again.

It was time to bring his bride back home.

[angeliclovely69]

Soul Ties - 1

Pairing: Lute x Fem!Reader

AU: Soulmate(You are born with matching tattoos)

Warnings: Angst, Fighting, Spoilers?, Adam being Adam, Gay, kinda similar to ACOSF, implied drinking problem

Summary: A relatively young Seraphim is forced to train with the Exorcists after breaking the rules. However, when she realises just who will be training her, she doesn’t mind. She enjoys the view.

Note: I have never read A Court of Silver Flames, but my friend said this is pretty similar. In what ways, I’m not sure, but I can assure you it is not intentional. Also, it wasn’t supposed to end in smut, but I couldn’t deny myself.

—

Stars. You fucking hate them. Pretty as they are, you have never seen anybody else with them marked into their skin. The black signature ran down your back, four stars in a line imprinted on the skin of your spine. They burn as you walk into the training ring.

She is waiting there as you were told, talking to who you know to be Adam, the first man. You only catch the last part of their conversation, the woman’s words. “Yes sir.” Adam’s eyes meet yours, “I forgot you were hot, little Seraphim.” He laughs at his words, you don’t, and neither does the lieutenant.

You are the second youngest Seraphim, only older then Emily by a hundred years. Not young in the grand scheme of things, but young for a high ranking angel. Everyone knows your age is why Sera allowed you to get away with your disobedience for so long. She figured you grow out of it, but when you came to work hungover, she had no other option. She had to punish you, if only for the sake of her reputation. She gave you two terrible choices.

Fall or train.

Simply no choice at all, really. Falling means admitting you failed. You can’t, that would mean everyone was right. Training isn’t going to be easy, you have never worked any muscles besides your wings, and even that was just from flying.

“Lute, this is who you’ll be training.” Thank god goodness he said her name because when Sera mentioned it you’d still been hungover. “Pleasure.” The white haired woman met your eyes now, her own sharp, determined. She doesn’t answer your statement, simply blinks as if thinking too hard to process.

“Do I have to?” She directs her attention to Adam, who just flips her off and flys away. “Fuck.” She mutters. Her eyes close for a moment, then she directs her full attention back to you. “Can you do a sit-up?”

“Can you actually try?” She is getting frustrated. Terribly so. You are making her job harder. You have been sitting watching her do her workouts for about an hour. You don’t answer, just look around the room. You trained for about 20 minutes with Lute before the space began to fill with other Exorcists.

You are embarrassed, to put it simply. How are you supposed to want to train when literal warriors surrounded you. You are stubborn, and she is mean. She doesn’t care if you fall. Why should she put in all the effort when you don’t even bother to do anything?

“I will not train here.” You really aren’t trying to be difficult. Sure you don’t want to train at all, but you aren’t the type of angel that would ever make someone’s life harder, well…ignoring Sera.

You want her to understand. She doesn’t. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Your words go unanswered as the white haired lieutenant leaves, angry and confused. She understands this wasn’t your choice, but why the fuck can’t you do anything?

Lute asked Sera how you usually act when she originally told about the arrangement. According to Sera you could be stubborn, a little headstrong, but you would behave to the best of your abilities. Not only so that you wouldn’t be punished, but also because you hate making people angry. Any time you did, you ended up crying. Even Sera.

Sera had assured Lute that you’d try, but she couldn’t be sure how you’d react to the training, or Lute herself. Lute doesn’t know what the last part meant, but it doesn’t matter. She is going to end this arrangement. If you don’t care, she doesn’t either.

“How’d it go?” Sera asks, voice almost cracking. She is scared, Lute notices. “She didn’t do anything.” Bluntness laces her tone. Sera frowns. “Really? Nothing?” Lute wants to nod, but hesitates. “She did train at first, but then other exorcists came in, and she stopped. She just stared at me while I trained.” Lute rants.

The seraphim’s face seems to lighten, as if realising something Lute hasn’t. “What?” Lute doesn’t understand why you are the way you are. Doesn’t really care. Sera does understand, though.

You grew up as almost a younger sister to Sera. You aren’t related, but something about you draws Sera in. Draws everyone in, to be completely honest. You are, in a way no one could place, different. Not in the conceited way. No. Your soul just doesn’t belong where it is. You were almost too kind. Too gentle. Sera hates that she has to punish you, but you’ve been going through something she can’t handle.

“When the others came in?” Sera questions, confirming a thought process Lute still hasn’t caught on to. “Yes! I said that already.” Her tone is harsh, and one look from the high seraphim, has her nodding a silent apology.

“Did you not question the reason?” The seraphim’s voice is gently coercing the answer from the lieutenant. Lute simply shakes her head, her frustration growing again. She knows the reason, you are a lazy brat.

“Tell me, have you ever been embarrassed?” Sera’s smile is light. “Yes.” Lute’s single word was harsh. The seraphim gives her yet another pointed look. “Sorry…”

Lute has never been able to tame the frustration that always bubbles underneath her skin. A type of frustration that doesn’t belong in Heaven. Rage that killed hundreds. That was her purpose. Death and retribution. Her very soul screamed anger, pure uncontrollable rage.

That’s why Adam has chosen her. Chosen her over everyone else. Made her his lieutenant. His right hand. She obeys orders and allows unnecessary demands. That’s what this arrangement is. Unnecessary.

“Then do you understand?” Sera is calm, too calm compared to Lute’s frustration. Lute shakes her head. Not trusting herself enough to not let the frustration show again. “Do I need to explain it to you?” A nod. Short, subtle.

“In the simplest of terms, she’s embarrassed. Classical trained soldiers. Heaven’s greatest. The universe’s greatest. Compared to a girl who can barely walk up stairs without losing her breath. She’s probably the most proudly stubborn person I’ve ever met. She doesn’t want to fall on her ass.” A nice- no. Lute processed the information slowly. Sera asks if she understands. Another nod.

Lute doesn’t say anything else, just leaves the room. She isn’t sure where to train you if you are uncomfortable in the public space. Unless, she let’s you use her personal space. No. That isn’t happening. She’ll just have to make do.

It doesn’t work. The next day you do the same thing. For the first 20 you are engaged, then the others fill the room, and you sit off to the side.

“Fuck this!” Lute yells in the locker room, slamming her fist into the mirror. It shatters. “Fuck!” She yells again. You left a while ago, and Lute had to stay. You aren’t her only assignment after all.

Her back is burning. Her entire body is burning. Rage is practically seeping from her skin. She takes off her shirt in an attempt to cool down. It’s late, extremely late, and for once the training area is empty. At least it should be, it was a bit ago. Now, though, she can hear panting. Distant, airy. She debates putting her shirt back on, but she shrugs the thought off. The Exorcists have seen her shirtless before.

Unfortunately, or fortunately, the woman doing sit ups in the middle of the ring isn’t an Exorcist. It’s you. Panting. Sweating. She stares for a minute. Can’t stop herself.

When she finally catches herself, she walks over to you. “Shhh. Don’t talk.” Her tone isn’t soft, but it’s no where near harsh either. Improvement. Your eyes widen in surprise. You didn’t realize she was there. Fuck. How long was she there? Was she judging you?

She catches herself liking the look in your eyes. Liking your eyes in general. It takes a moment of staring for her to blink. “Go to bed. Ah. Sh.” She cuts off your attempt at an argument. “Go to bed. For training tomorrow meet me at my private training area. This time. It will be there from now on.” She doesn’t say anything else as she walks away.

She silently thanks god for it being dark. She doesn’t need you knowing anything about her.

[imaginedanvrs]

when the world stands still

part 1 l masterlist

natasha romanoff x reader

word count: 3.6k

warnings: explosions, manipulation, coercion, descriptions of stage 4 cancer, character death, grief

“I don’t like her,” Natasha said to her friend freely from where they sat at the bar, the Russian’s eyes focused on the woman in question.

  “I know,” Wanda replied, glancing briefly at the small crowd gathered on the opposite side of the room. “She seems better than Ross though.” Natasha scoffed lightly. 

  “Doubtful. If he practically gave her his old job then they’ve got to have the same agenda,” Natasha theorised. “Doesn’t this worry you?” She asked, turning to the younger redhead with a furrowed brow. She had more reason for concern than the Russian did.

  “Of course, but it’s nothing that we can control or even have a say in. It’s best if we just try and stay on her good side,” Wanda explained. “I doubt we’ll ever see a Secretary of State that actually likes the Avengers. They don’t like what they can’t control.” The mentor didn’t respond, still examining the newest political figure Tony had invited to his party, most likely having the same thinking as Wanda. 

  “Krasnyy,” Wanda muttered. “Don’t give her reason to make things difficult for us,” she said with a slight plea. 

  “I’ll play nice,” the older woman assured with a teasing smile that didn’t help put the Sokovian’s mind at ease. She hummed and followed Natasha’s gaze to where it had travelled to the spacious balcony outside. There were few people scattered around on the other side of the closed doors to keep out the evening autumn breeze that proved to be too much for most of the guests. They retreated back into the warmth, leaving you to stand alone. 

  “You don’t like her wife either?” Wanda queried.

  “Fiance,” Natasha corrected. “Of two years,” she added with a knowing smirk over the tip of her glass. 

  “Spreading gossip about them is the last thing you should be doing,” Wanda scolded lightly before taking her own sly glance in your direction. Your back was to the party, the city beyond captivating your attention instead. You had dutifully shown your face by your partner’s side at the start of the party but apparently hadn’t felt the need to mingle like most did at such an event. “Two years?” Wanda asked as though it only just clicked. Natasha chuckled with a small nod. “Well I suppose they must be quite busy.” 

  “Too busy for a lot of things I bet,” Natasha continued. 

  “Tasha,” Wanda warned again, unable to hide her smile this time. “It’s my turn to escape early,” she said as she stood up. The brunette had a mission early the following morning, a card Natasha had been able to play at the last few events. It wasn’t that either of them disliked Stark’s parties, they were infamous for a reason, but nights like that one didn’t compare when there was a clear political motive and the heroes were paraded around like trophies that could perform tricks. 

  “Tell me what I miss when I’m back,” she said, leaving the spy to her own devices at the bar where her attention soon flickered back to you. 

  Play nice, she reminded herself as she started towards the balcony. You didn’t turn around when the door opened behind you, taking another drag from the glowing cigarette as your gaze remained fixed on the night life below. 

  “I’m glad someone can admit how tedious these events can be,” Natasha called out, putting several paces between you as she leant over the railing next to you. You glanced her way in acknowledgment but gave no indicator if you were pleased or irritated by the company. 

  “This is the third one this week,” you told her simply. 

  “Just don’t laugh too much at the unfunny jokes or they won't leave you alone,” Natasha advised. “Oh and pretend you don’t find them incredibly irritating,” she added. You took another steady drag as you eyed the Avenger, unsure what her angle was with you. Most of the guests at such parties that approached you on your own just wanted some gossip about your personal life. Vultures.

  “Is that what you do?” A genuine smile crept through Natasha’s strategic features that you apparently saw through better than most.

  “And find the right people to pass the time with. I suppose your fiance is preoccupied though,” the redhead stated as she peered back at the party. You didn’t reply, nor did you show any interest in what you were missing behind you. “If you can stick it through, it gets better once people get drunk,” the spy continued, set on getting some kind of reaction or exchange from you. 

  “They’ve got the right idea,” you muttered as you crushed the cigarette but under your heel and finally peered back at the party. Your fiance was still immersed in conversation with Steve, one of the few heroes that was willing to converse with her for so long. Natasha’s eyes twinkled in a way she knew Wanda would disapprove of. Regardless, she opened an invitation to you. 

  “Not many people know this, but I’m a pretty great mixologist,” she told you. You considered her for a moment before turning back to the party you had no interest in attending. Might as well enjoy the free drinks, it’s the only perk this new lifestyle seems to come with.

  “Screw it, why not,” you shrugged, allowing the Avenger to lead the way back inside and to the edge of the bar where she and Wanda had sat, out of the way of the main events. “How often does Stark throw these events?” You asked as Natasha began pouring from bottles you didn’t know the names of. 

  “Not as much as people think,” she told you. “And there’s usually less people.”

  “Is it better that way?” You asked out of your own sheer curiosity. 

  “Much,” Natasha admitted. You had to give her credit for her honesty. “Events like this just feel like a show.”

  “For my fiance?”

  “Who else?” The redhead placed a martini glass on the bar and pushed it gently towards her. You thanked her and briefly glanced back in the direction of the main party, seeing the guest of honour still mingling with Steve. “Now that bit isn’t an act. They’re talking shop because he’s the only one who can make it seem so harmless at these events,” Natasha continued. 

  She didn’t stop there. As the evening became night, the redhead analysed everyone in the room to you as she continued to push more drinks. You weren’t entirely sure why she was doing it, but it did make the event more interesting to know the unkept secrets about some of the other guests who had appeared. It was also helpful. The gist of it was, none of them were as powerful, generous or influential as they believed themselves to be. 

  Though as enlightening as Natasha’s tale’s were, you couldn’t sit at the bar and listen to her all night, as reminded to you when midnight came around as indicated by the chime. The Avenger was about to pour from another bottle when you stopped it all, the content smile remaining on her imperfect features. 

  “Stop,” you muttered under your breath. 

  The world obeyed. 

  You examined Natasha for a moment, noting the lonely stillness that had fallen over her features and that of everyone else's in the world and briefly wondered if it would ever stop feeling so isolating. You couldn’t ponder on it, even if you did quite literally have all the time in the world, because you had a job to do. 

  Begrudgingly, you stood up from the bar stool and leisurely made your way across the grande room with a slight intoxicated sway to your step, passing by every statue without a second glance. You always felt guilty when you saw all their oblivious faces. 

  You had never uttered that magic word after a drink before and you could feel yourself having less of a control over keeping everything still than you usually did. You were playing a dangerous game, resuming everything too soon could have endless consequences that you weren’t planning on exploring. She certainly wouldn’t be happy. 

  More than that, you had never performed the task on a building with such impressive technology either. What if you were finally caught? It couldn’t have worse outcomes than the only other time you had been found out. For you. Someone else would pay that price though and you weren’t ready to deal with the debt that would follow, ironic for someone with your abilities. 

  Even though you had tried your best to memorise the route to the control room prior, you still found yourself getting lost numerous times on the way. It didn’t help that such a large tower only had two sets of stairwells for you to use because Stark apparently had too much faith in his building's ability not to catch on fire and render the elevators useless. You couldn’t use them yourself, having to be sure that everything was left in place when you resumed the world. 

  Finally, you found the main control room and didn’t waste any time placing the small chip under the nearest surface. It was hard to believe what it was supposedly capable of, but you had no doubt that their plan was flawless, it always was. 

  Just like that, your work was done and you returned to the party, feeling far heavier than you had when you left from the guilt that was already weighing on your shoulders. It wasn’t the first time you had done something like that, but you were sure this deed was going to have a worse impact than any of the prior ventures. 

  You let go of your hold on the world’s time so that the chaos could resume. The midnight chime ended and was replaced with another sound, one that was far grander. 

  The explosion shook the building, startling every guest that looked to each other for solace and guidance with terrified expressions. Alarms blared, people screamed, orders were yelled from the building’s AI and heroes. “Stay here,” Natasha ordered as you painted your features with the same fear that everyone else carried. 

  “But Cecilia-” you started, because anyone would be first concerned about their lover, right? Amidst the chaos, you really couldn’t see her. 

  “Wait!” Natasha repeated, springing over the bar and starting down the hall you had come from as the AI reported where the explosion had started. Steve rushed off after her, then Tony, then a few others. Then the next alert came. 

  “Security breach within the mainframe!” The robotic voice alerted. 

  You were so focused on watching the crowd panicking around you that you didn’t even notice the presence behind you until her body crashed into yours, supposedly to embrace you in a blaze of panic and relief. “Are you okay?” Your fiance asked as she examined your features carefully, playing the role without fault. 

  “Yeah, I’m okay,” you told her, staring long enough into her features to give the nonverbal answer she was looking for. She hardly needed it, the scenes unfolding around you were evident that you had done as she instructed. 

  “Good,” she exhaled, pulling you flush against her into a tight hug that gave her enough cover to whisper into your ear. “Good girl,” she praised, maintaining that fake worry as she pulled away. You felt sick. People were crying around you. God, you hoped no one was hurt. 

  The situation was handled with impressive ease and it wasn’t long before everyone was being evacuated from the tower. Despite yourself, as you followed the crowd out of the building, your arm protectively around your fiance’s waist, your eyes drifted back in hopes of catching a glimpse of the redhead that had entertained you for the last stretch of the party. Part of you actually wanted to thank her for making the tension you had been feeling lessen, but that couldn’t happen, so you carried on. 

  The moment you were in the car together with the driver speeding off to your home, Cecilia was on the phone to her team. “Did you get it?” You didn’t hear the response, you didn’t want to know. Still, her chuckle told you it had. They had hacked the Avengers and retrieved whatever files they were looking for. You weren’t sure which ones, all you knew was that you had been able to damage the controls enough to provide a window for them to enter and take what they pleased. 

  “I don’t know what you’re looking so down about,” Cecilia sniped when a silence fell over the vehicle. “You know the deal, your sister gets more treatment now,” she said simply. 

  Yeah, she will. That’s all that matters. You nodded. “Thank you,” you muttered. “Can I see her?” You asked, hoping you could make a stop to visit her before you were taken back to the house. 

  “She’s already in surgery,” she told you with a smile. You returned it politely, willing yourself not to argue that that meant you really should have been taken to where she was so that you could wait for her, so that you could be there in case… Fuck, you didn’t even know she needed another surgery. They never told you anything. 

  You fought back tears, adamant that you wouldn’t show weakness in front of her, especially when she was on a power trip of success. She had the job, she had the files, she had you. To her, everything was working out perfectly. To you, it was all falling apart. 

*

“What files were accessed?” Tony asked, feeling an uncertainty arise within his chest. No one had ever hacked him before. No one had ever successfully attacked the base. What was worse, there were still no answers as to how it had been done. He sighed, running his hand through his hair as he gazed at the monitor that offered no comfort. 

  “Just under half of all existing documents. Displaying now.” Files streamed onto the screen on cue, all ranging in dates and topics. 

  “Anything?” Steve and Natasha entered his space cautiously, knowing that the billionaire was stuck in his own head that was no doubt flooded with anxiety. 

  “No, keep the tower shut to all other personnel until we know for sure that there are no more bombs.” 

  “They’re already gotten what they want,” Steve said. 

  “We can’t know that for sure,” Natasha input, leaning over to examine the different documents that were presented and trying to pinpoint any recurring themes or patterns. “We don’t even know who they are.”

*

  Gently, you ran your fingers over the skin where your sister’s hair should have been. You always used to do that when she was sick, from her fevers as a baby to the start of her diagnosis, you were always there to provide her with whatever comfort you could. Getting her the medical help she needed had been a long, greying, journey that you had never for one moment considered might not lead to the destination you wanted. It had been difficult for you both, but you had never dared let her in on what you had done to get her there. 

  It wasn’t a hospital by any means, yet the equipment they carried in the building was far superior. There was a team of professionals that were so highly trained in their respective fields, you had to wonder how much they were being paid to treat your sister and the other unknown patients. It was certainly money that you had never handed them, but you had worked for it. It wasn’t the personnel that had drawn you to the facility, it was the medicine they used. It wasn’t from Earth. 

  You had seen first hand the miracles that occurred on the hostile city streets, the last place anyone would expect to find them. Sicknesses being rid of, disabilities being lessened, burdens released from those who could never have afforded lesser help from elsewhere. All they had to pay with was their services. Thieves, thugs, gangs, dealers, the skills that flourished in the city’s underbelly were revived and given the chance to be used in ways they never could have imagined. 

  Once those rumours fell on your ears, you thought you had found the solution to your problems and that if you gave yourself to the ones pulling the strings behind the curtain, you could save your sister's life. Even as you gazed down at her pale features, you refused to believe your efforts were in vain. 

  Footsteps broke you from your trance as they thudded into your space. You knew who it was, she had a habit of interrupting what little time you had with your sister, as though she was genuinely jealous that your attention was on someone else. Cecilia was hardly in love with you and your relationship was purely for the convenience of getting you access to restricted events and places, but her possession was fierce. She was adamant on knowing where you were at all times and who you were with, preferably being the one to send you to those specific places. You kept to the diet and workout plan she set for you and never let you sleep in a different bed to her. You didn’t understand her insistent dictatorship over your life that was already in her hands, you just knew to obey it. 

  You didn’t react when she pressed a kiss to your neck and snaked her hands around your waist to peer over your shoulder at your sister. She didn’t comment on her declining condition, instead, she brought up the absolute last thing on your mind. “I’ve finally decided on a venue,” she informed lightly, humming into your neck. You could have slapped her. You didn’t want to think about the goddamn wedding. “You’re gonna love it,” she added when you remained silent. 

  “Can you ask the doctors what they’re gonna do next?” You asked. They never told you, too busy to make conversation with someone that didn’t matter to them. You felt your fiance exhale against your skin. She was frustrated, as though your little sister’s cancer was an inconvenience. 

  “She’s dying,” she said bluntly. You stiffened and hoped she didn’t notice. You weren’t in the mood for a fight. 

  “Not yet.” Cecilia kept her hands on your waist as she moved around to your front, placing a fresh kiss to your cheek that you refused to let be stained with tears in front of her. 

  “I love that stubbornness,” she told you with a small smile. “There’s so much fight in that heart of yours,” she added, trailing her finger over your chest to where your organ was thumping. “So much strength.” Her hands threaded around your neck. “It’s why you’re my favourite,” Cecilia said fondly, kissing you once more before finally leaving you be. 

  Your sister died a week later. 

  The only comfort you were able to take from it was that you were by her side when she took her final breath. You were there to tell her that she didn’t have to hang on for you, that she could rest, go be with mum and dad, be without pain. You told her that you would be okay on your own, even though you knew you wouldn’t. You held her hand and felt her give a final squeeze of recognition, of comfort. Her silent goodbye. 

  Just like that, you were left alone. 

  Your sobs could have been heard throughout the entire building. You were inconsolable, grasping onto your little sister’s lifeless body like it would keep her around. You begged for her to take you with her, to let you join them and come home. You begged for an ending. You cried so much your throat felt as though it had been ripped out, torn to shreds from the source. They only intervene when you tried to draw out your time with her. 

  “St-” you couldn’t complete the desperate command because hundreds of volts were sent through your body. You convulsed and collapsed to the floor in a defeated heap, unwilling to ever get up again. What was the point if you didn’t have her to fight for? 

  “Shh, it’s okay,” Cecilia cooed as she pulled the taser clips from your back and pulled your head into her lap. She cradled you, offering her solace for something that never concerned her. She was probably happy your sister was gone. She finally had you all to yourself, even if you were hardly present. “We’ll make it better. You’ll do your best work without the distraction, get you training more.” You weren’t listening, too engaged with setting your eyes on the opposite wall. You didn’t care for her plans for you. 

  “She never would have died if you had been given more help,” she explained, catching your attention. “But no one cared, not the government, not the people, not the Avengers. They just kept you away from us until it was too late.” You didn’t entirely believe what your fiance was telling you, but your mind was so fractured you were desperate for some kind of explanation and someone to blame. 

“Humanity cannot be trusted with its own freedom. We fail time and time again because we aren’t led in the way we should be, the way we can be. Help us change that, y/n.” Dutifully, you sat up and nodded.

“We’re the only ones that looked after you and we’re the only ones that ever will,” she explained. That was true. You had no more foundations or life beyond the commands you were given. No one else could give you a future. 

  “What do you say?” Cecilia asked. You moved to kneel in front of her, features dead straight and eyes as dull as your sister’s behind you. 

  “Hail Hydra.” 

[corruptedcaps]

Nurse Stacey

Stacey’s first day as an interning nurse wasn’t going well. How was she suppose to know she had to provide her own uniform? Although the rest of the girls from her class seemed to know as they were all dressed and ready for work. She knew it was somehow Bree’s, her bitchy classmate, fault.

Bree was clearly jealous of Stacey’s innate smarts and aptitude for the job but Bree also made it no secret that she was studying to become a nurse just so she could sink her claws into the richest doctor available. She didn’t want anyone taking any spotlight away from her in anyway so constantly set Stacey up to fail.

However Bree had ‘modified’ her uniform to make it so eyes were always on her anyway. Her tight uniform showed as much skin as was possible under the rules, so bullying Stacey at this point was just a bonus. By lunchtime on her first day Stacey was pulled aside by the head doctor, Lawrence, and told she needed to find a uniform that was white and red like everyone else’s by end of day otherwise she would be let go.

“I’m sorry Stacey but I’ve had complaints from some of the other interns that you aren’t taking your time here very seriously and it’s reflecting poorly on them so please find something appropriate to wear otherwise I’ll have to give you a failing grade.” He said leaving her alone to fume. Her? Inappropriate? Bree was the one with the ‘modified’ uniform, her tits practically dripping out.

“But by the end of day? How can I possibly do that with the rest of my work?” Stacey said to herself after Lawrence walked away.

“Maybe you should use your lunch hour, god knows you could lose a few pounds.” Bree said cruelly chiming in.

Stacey stormed into the locker room to try and find some nurse scrubs, even dirty ones but came up empty. Frustrated she banged against the lockers but felt them shake more than normal against the wall. That’s when she realized they weren’t up against a wall, but a door. Curious, she pulled out the set of lockers to reveal the door. It had been painted over but it was clearly a door and even had a name plate too.

Sliding the plate off she scratched and chipped away at the paint until it revealed it read ‘Head Nurse’. It was only then that she realized that the hospital didn’t have a head nurse. It wasn’t unusual for a hospital not to have one but it certainly was strange for a hospital to have an office for one that didn’t exist. However Stacey also realized that this may be the solution to her problems. Any good head nurse would have a spare change of scrubs in case of emergency.

Pushing the paint covered door hard enough until it gave in, Stacey fell inside to find a long forgotten and dusty room. It was sparsely decorated and had little furniture. What furniture it did have was odd. For example it had a rather plush looking bed and velvety sofa. It looked more like a room to entertain than one to work in but her eyes were soon drawn to a clothes mannequin in the corner. This would be what she needed.

However as she got closer to it she saw that the outfit was far from what she expected. Instead it looked like some sort of slutty Halloween version of a nurses outfit. It was made of white and red spandex and was incredibly short and looked like she wouldn’t be able to breath in it despite it’s flexibility. Stacey would never wear such a thing even as a joke let alone for work but as the end of the day was looming she realized it was her last hope. If nothing else it could buy her time to get a proper uniform after work somewhere.

Stripping down to her underwear she eyed the outfit and realized that she would need to be totally naked to squeeze into it. Locking the door to the office she then removed the last of her clothes and stood for a moment looking at her reflection in the large mirror in the corner.

She was by no means ugly but she was certainly out of shape and unkempt looking. She just never had time to work out and primp herself due to all her studying. She had sacrificed a lot to be where she was and now she was on the brink of losing it because of some gold digging jealous bitch. Her anger spurred her on. She pulled the outfit off the mannequin and held her breath as she slipped into it and zipped it up.

It was the tightest thing she had ever worn and yet she didn’t feel uncomfortable. There was a certain safety she felt by having it close to her skin and yet at the same time it felt as though she were naked. It gave her a weird sense of power, like the outfit was a kind of armour. Taking a moment she looked at herself in the mirror and strangely didn’t think she looked silly as she thought she might have. She didn’t feel shy or reserved either, she felt sexy. Even the antiquated hat looked good on her.

“Wow a head nurse wearing this? I imagine all all the staff were eating out of the palm of her hand, especially the hunky doctors looking like this.” She said to herself in admiration of the previous owner of the outfit. She felt light headed wearing it, like she didn’t have a care in the world which she quickly put down to the outfit cutting down on the blood circulation. It wasn’t tight everywhere however as the outfit was clearly meant for someone with a much larger cup size.

“Even though I don’t fill it out perfectly I think this should keep me from being fired today.” She said to herself preparing to leave but suddenly hearing a voice in her head.

“Fired? Who would dare fire the head nurse?” The voice purred in her mind.

“W-who said that?” Stacey said looking around seeing no one.

“Why me of course, your uniform. I am designed specifically for the head nurse. That’s you of course, correct?” The voice replied. Stacey thought she was losing her mind. Maybe the uniform was cutting off more blood to her brain than she thought.

“Eh yes I’m Stacey, the new, eh, head nurse.” Stacey replied trying to humor her own delusion.

“Stacey? No no no that won’t do, that’s not commanding enough. No you will be Anastasia from now on. Now let me get started.” The voice continued.

“Started with w-?” Stacey began but suddenly felt an intense heat begin in her stomach and reverberate outward. However it wasn’t unpleasant and in fact was quite pleasing making her involuntarily moan.

“Whhhhaaaaat arrrreee youuuuu doooooing?” Stacey groaned as the feeling intensified.

“Why I’m remaking your body of course, didn’t you read your head nurse contract? It’s standard procedure for all new head nurses to undergo a bitchification process. You need to be strong and tough to have this job after all.” The voice said matter of factly.

Stacey felt the uniform crunch in her stomach and her body moulded to its sleek and curvy contours. Her hips flared out, her butt became plump while her waist shrank. It felt good.

And yet she knew what was happening was wrong, she wasn’t the head nurse and pretending to be one would only land her in hot water. She needed to take off the uniform even if it was the more pleasurable thing she had ever felt.

“Noooo stop, this isn’t right. I’m not the head nurse.” She groaned while the changes continued. Hot red nails shot out from the ends of her fingers as her lips inflated into soft kissable pillows. Her tits grew bigger and bigger until it felt as though they’d rip the uniform.

“Of course, it’s perfectly normal to feel that way during this process but the next phase should put you at ease.” The uniform replied to her in words and then in actions as Stacey suddenly felt a barrage of information be thrown at her mind.

Expert medical advice was downloaded in an instant to her mind, knowledge that would have taken a lifetime to learn was suddenly as simple to her as two plus two. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad she thought to herself, she could make a real difference with a mind like hers now.

Just as she was having this altruistic thought, however, she heard bitchy mantras and creeds echo in her head.

Profits over people.

Power is Queen, the Queen will have power.

Serving the hospital so you will be served.

Greed, beauty, excess, fear.

They repeated over and over again in her mind, it was clear that the head nurse wasn’t there to help the patients, she was meant to help the hospital. Stacey was disgusted but the more she heard the words the more she was nodding along. She tried to resist but the conditioning was too strong.

She didn’t want to become a bitch but the temptation was getting hard to deny. Why should she have to work so hard when sluts like Bree walked all over her. Thinking about what a spoilt bitch Bree was ironically sealed Stacey’s fate. Knowing she’d have the power to command Bree to do whatever she said made Stacey unbearably wet. She wanted that more than anything.

“Yeesss you’re right, I was just doubting myself. That’ll never happen again. Insecure nurse Stacey is dead, confident, gorgeous head nurse Anastasia has arrived.” She purred with a new bitchy tone. She expected the uniform to reply but it said nothing. Having completed its job it went back into a dormant state.

Anastasia meanwhile walked over to the upright mirror and took in her new form. She looked every bit the wet dream she felt. Her outrageous beauty was complemented by her steely cold gaze, a duo that would give her the ultimate power over the staff and patients of HER hospital.

However she needed to make it official and there was one person she knew who could rubber stamp her new position and she would make it so he would beg her to be head nurse.

The next morning, the staff of the hospital were gathered outside Lawrence’s office after being summoned there 20 minutes ago. They weren’t certain but some could have sworn that they heard grunting, moaning and spanking.

Bree arrived with her cohort just as Lawrence exited his office, with his tie askew. Bree looked around and was happy to see Stacey not present.

“Guess poor Stacey didn’t find any spare uniforms. Such bad timing that we had offered to wash all the spares this morning, we could have given her one.” Bree smirked satisfied to herself as her friends giggled knowingly.

“Thank you all for coming on such short notice. I’ll make this brief. I’m proud to announce that starting today we have a long over due position returning. The position of head nurse!” Lawrence declared and the staff broke out into a murmur.

Bree and her friends broke into an excited chatter. This could be the stepping stone Bree needed to bag herself a rich doctor. If she became Head Nurse she would work intimately with the upper crust of the hospital. Sure there were more senior nurses but she had a way of getting what she wanted.

“After a long decision process I have decided to fill the position with one of our newest nurses. I know this might irk some of the senior staff but I believe a new position needs new blood.” Lawrence said and Bree felt his eyes land on her. Could she be getting her wish so soon? Of course, there was no other answer.

“So will you all please welcome your new head nurse, Anastasia.” Lawrence announced loudly as a brunette beauty strode out from his office. The staff were completely gobsmacked by the reveal of Anastasia, clad in the tightest uniform they had ever seen.

“Now that is no way to great your new head nurse, is it? Applaud. ” Anastasia said with a long stare that sent a shiver down everyone’s spine. Slowly they began to clap and Anastasia basked in their fearful reverence.

“Now Anastasia will get reacquainted with everyone over the next few days but for now back to work.” Lawrence said and looked over to Anastasia for an approving look but finding only her cold withering stare. Nevertheless he became aroused and quickly left to do his rounds along with most of the staff. Most except Bree and her gang.

“You might have Lawrence fooled with these fake tits, and slutty makeup but I know you’re still a loser Stacey and I’ll have your job by the end of the week.” Bree said defiantly. Anastasia smiled at her unnervingly and slowly clopped over to her in her high heels. As tough as Bree fronted she soon cowered before her new head nurse as she was backed into a corner with her friends.

“That’s head nurse Anastasia worm. You can be as insolent as you like but I now control your passing grades. If you don’t do exactly as I say I’ll fail you, all of you, and blacklist the lot of you from working in any hospital in this country. No job, no hot doctors, no life of luxury.” She said bearing down on the frightened young women.

“But follow me, learn from me and I’ll recommend you as Head Nurses to our sister locations. They’ll be some ‘training’ involved of course but you’ll earn yourself a uniform like mine and the power that comes with it. Understood?” Anastasia said in a cold purr that had all of Bree’s friends nodding enraptured.

“Good. Now off you go, training begins tomorrow.” Anastasia said standing back and allowing the women to escape. But yet again, Bree stood in rebellious rage.

“Screw you slut, my daddy is rich and is on the board of the hospital, if you think your theatrics intimidate me you-” Bree began but was quickly silenced by Anastasia who grabbed the girl by her neck and lifted her off the floor with ease, the uniform granting her super human strength.

“Silence, I heard just about enough of you. I know about your daddy and the power he had over the hospital. Who do you think gave Lawrence the go ahead for my promotion? Your daddy is under my thumb now and he will do exactly as I command, something you’re going to learn to do starting now.” Anastasia cackled as she dragged the young nurse to her office and threw her to the floor.

“Now loser you’re going to clean this place too to bottom. I want all this dust gone by the end of day, if you don’t consider your future as a nurse ended.” The bitchy head nurse said smirking down at Bree.

“By the end of day? How can I possibly do that with the rest of my work?” Bree said to Anastasia who just looked at her as if she were an ant.

“Maybe you should use your lunch hour, god knows you could lose a few pounds.” Anastasia said smirking cruelly at Bree.

THE END

[drakulana]

Hi there! I have a angst/comfort writing about Law x y/n so far and I want to muster up the courage to ask you about this:

Its a bit complicated and rather long, Reader's strugling with trust issues due to her past betrayal and exploitation. Law once despite everything saved her from danger and cured her, even though she really loves him, but when she was mentally unstable, she broke down and confided that he was just taking advantage of her, taking advantage of her feelings, denying how genuine his feelings for her were.

I want to see you write his reaction and everything that happens after that! Hope you have a great day💖

Thank you so much for the request! I'm sorry it took my so long to answer, life has been so crazy! I hope you enjoy it!! @hana-san

late night envy - law x reader

ᯓ★wc: 2.1k

ᯓ★content: angst/comfort, fighting, alcohol consumption

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It was a clear night. You could see every star in the sky. Your captain had given the crew the privilege of surfacing for the night due to a breakthrough on a research project everyone had been working on together. Earlier, all of the crew had been partying and drinking amongst one another. It wasn’t every night that they got to see the night sky, and breathe in the salty air. It was a nice change of scenery apart from the steel walls that kept them so close. 

The party that ensued was one that Penguin and Shachi had referred to as a “rager” consisting of loud music and drinking games that were only ever fun if you were intoxicated. Luckily, everyone was. It had been a while since the crew had got to drink together like this. Everyone was on the top deck, all except for one person. The captain, of course. It wasn’t uncommon for the captain not to indulge in their festivities, but he always showed his face for at least the first half hour. Tonight, to the dismay of everyone on the crew, he was not. Well, everyone except for you. The party was doing its job at distracting you from the burden of the situationship you held with the absent captain, more so the fight you had with him almost half a week ago. 

The relationship between you and Law was never supposed to happen. It blossomed out of the heat of the moment. Like two magnets, you couldn’t help but to gravitate towards one another. However recent events had made you fear that your polarity towards one another had been reversed. These days, Law was scarce. He had a lot on his plate, you knew that, but sometimes you couldn’t help but to feel as if it were personal. He was planning a solo mission soon, and cut you out of the whole research aspect all together. Anytime you would come into his office, he’d dismiss you soon after. Anytime you would try to aid him with any type of research, he would tell you that he could handle it on his own, giving you another task to uphold somewhere on the other side of the ship. How could you not take something like that personal? A few nights ago, you had confronted Law ending in a screaming match between the two of you. You asked him why he was avoiding you, and he denied it. You asked if he was no longer interested in you, and he said that you were reading too much into the situation. I am a captain, and a warlord. I have things on my plate you couldn’t possibly begin to understand. You can’t come in here and disrupt my work, trying to find petty answers to your own insecurities. The words that were said that night had stung, and Law knew he had overstepped. Before an apology could even leave his mouth, you had turned on your heel walking out of the office, slamming the door behind you. Law didn’t follow you, he never did. 

It was now half past two, and your crewmates had finally decided to start turning in for the night. It wasn’t long before the stragglers had left the deck to return back to their bunks. A few crewmates asked you if you were coming inside too, and you waved them off with a dismissive I’ll be there, soon. You didn’t want to turn in just yet, you wanted to sit with the ocean and it’s stars for a little longer. If you were lucky, you’d be able to see the sunrise. It was very rare to be able to see the morning hues of soft pinks, and oranges. A cool breeze wafted over your face, and you took a deep inhale in. It was quiet out here. You couldn’t hear the incessant buzzing of the lights, or the never ending humming of the engines below you. You didn’t feel confined between cold metal walls, and you felt like you could finally breathe. You had a lot on your mind tonight, and to feel just a little less claustrophobic helped ease your tormented mind. You were hoping to find some solace in the waves sloshing against the metal of the ship, and a bottle of sake you had hidden away earlier in the night.

It had been almost four days since you had last talked to Law. Any time you would see him in the halls, or during mealtimes, you would turn the other way. You weren’t going to chase after him, either. The way he made you feel that night was something you hadn’t felt in a long time. The argument made you feel unseen, unheard. All those times that you and Law had shared behind closed doors. All the deep personal talks you had with him, all the sweetness you had saved just for him, felt meaningless. 

 A waft of cold air hit your face, bringing you back to reality. The quiet black ocean aided you in your spiral. You felt as if he didn’t want you anymore. You didn’t know what you possibly could have done to deserve this cold shoulder from him. You took another swig from the bottle of sake that had set next to you on the cold steel deck. You were about half way through the bottle now. You didn’t know what time it was, or how long you had been out here. There were no signs of morning for the next few hours. The sky and the ocean were now just one vast darkness speckled with stars. Everyone inside was probably already asleep in their bunks by now. All but one person, your captain. He never slept the way he was supposed to. You knew he wasn’t asleep, and a small part of you tugged to go see him, but you knew with Law you could never come to him first. He would have to come to you, and usually he did within a day or so, but it had been almost four days now. You took a deep breath, you could feel the alcohol setting into your system. It weighed you down to your chair, slowly creeping into your legs. 

You concentrated on the sloshing of the water against the sides of the ship, trying to pry your thoughts away from the earlier events from the week. It was to no avail, though. You couldn’t help the whirlwind of memories, and the emotions attached to them from setting fire to your brain.  Like a movie behind your intoxicated eyes, it played. All the people you had met before you had been involved with the Heart Pirates, all the places you had gone. Everyone who had ever scorned you was now at the forefront of your mind. nasty words that you had been called, the mistreatment from all of your previous peers echoed against the walls of your skull. It was the creaking of a metal door that had transported you back into the present. You didn’t look behind you to know who it was, you could pick out those footsteps from anywhere. It was Law. You didn’t move, you just stared ahead holding your now almost empty sake bottle against you. You didn’t want to have the conversation you knew was pending in this state, so you simply did not engage. 

Law’s deep voice cut through the sloshing, “It’s late,” he simply stated. You rolled your eyes at the sound of his tone. The way Law spoke always held an assured certainty that only he could make sound natural, but now his words tasted bitter in your mouth and the certainty was replaced with a cockiness that you found unbecoming of Law. You usually didn’t think like this, you were intoxicated. Another reason you wished he would just turn around and go back to his chambers, maybe even go to sleep for once. Law approached behind you, “Still ignoring me?” You scoffed at his audacity. You ignoring him? He practically begged for it the way he talked to you four nights ago. Still, you didn’t let up. You didn’t even give him a word. He walked around into your view. He was wearing a long jacket, his usual jeans, and a white tee. Your eyes studied him. He didn’t look like he had slept, but that wasn’t surprising, he never slept. His hat was unusually missing, leaving his messy black hair ruffling in the slight breeze. It was dark out here, but the moon had lit up the sky enough for you to see him. You made eye contact with him, and you could see something behind his eyes that wasn’t typically there, remorse. Usually that remorse would eat away at your soul, and make you cave, but not tonight. You tore your eyes away from the man standing in front of you, as he let out a sigh. He took a seat next to you, eyeing the bottle in your lap. “You’ve drank… a lot,” He reached over, taking the bottle from your grasp before setting it down on the other side of him. Again, the audacity. If you hadn’t been so drunk, you would’ve snatched it back, but there was no physical fight left in you at this point. 

The two of you sat in silence for a minute, before you heard Law take a huge breath, “Listen, you can’t just ignore-” he didn’t even finish the rest of his sentence before you had snapped your head towards him, cutting him off. “No, Law, you listen to me,” a surge of pain rushed to behind your eyes, only fueling your anger. A painful knot swelled up in your throat, “I understand that you are a warlord with a lot on your plate. I understand that the weight you pull is heavy, but that does not give you the right to be such a dick. If it’s space you need, then you got it, but don’t come out here badgering me about ignoring you when I can’t possibly begin to understand the things you have going on-” Law’s protest started to cut you off, but you didn’t give in, “No, don’t talk. I’m not finished. You had no place sitting there calling me insecure about your neglect whenever we hav-had some sort of relationship. I feel taken advantage of. Then you want to come out here and say that I’ve been ignoring you when I’m actually just giving you the space you so badly wanted? No,” at this point, you could feel the bile rising up in your throat, burning its way up your esophagus. It felt as if all the words that you had wanted to say were crawling up your throat pushing themselves out. You pushed yourself out of your seat, making a beeline to bend yourself over the side of the rails. Before you knew it, you were face to face with the black water emptying all of your stomach’s contents. Your legs shook underneath you, and you could feel Law behind you with his hands on your hips steadying your balance. You wanted to push him back away from you, but you hardly had the strength to hold yourself up anymore. It was frustrating feeling this weak in front of him after you had chewed him out, drunkenly. Once you were done, Law pulled you back up turning you to face him. “Let’s go inside, okay?” He asked you softly. It didn’t matter the protests you gave him, he was dragging you behind him staggering your way back into the ship. 

Once you were inside, Law led you back into his quarters. You were still mad at Law, and he knew that. He sat you down onto the bed digging out some clothes from his dresser laying them beside you, “Get changed, I’ll be right back,” He told you before shutting the door behind him. He returned when you were dressed with a bottle of water and two small white pills in his hand. “Take these, we’ll talk more in the morning,” He told you. You huffed and layed down in his bed, covering yourself with the blankets. Law looked at your figure before taking his jacket and his shoes off, “Can I lay with you?” He asked you, earning a small nod from you. Although you were mad, you couldn’t deny the comfort Law’s presence brought you. He crawled under the blankets, wrapping an arm around your drunken drowsy body, “You know I’m sorry, right?” He whispered to you, “I didn’t mean any of those things I said,” His hand trailed up and down your spine, putting pressure on certain places where he could tell knots were forming. Low hums fell from your mouth as he rubbed your back. You could feel your trepidation melting away as his fingers worked their way up to your shoulders. You finally let your eyes close, and let the heaviness of sleep take you. You would talk to Law in the morning, but for right now, the both of you were okay.

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@drakulana 2024 // i do not give permission to copy, translate, or repost, any of my content without my consent

[whimsyfinny]

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: stalker/ unsuccessful kidnap, violence, depictions of blood and assault (let me know if I should add more)

Chapter Word Count: 2318

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A/N: Sooooo I’m sorry it’s not spicy like I said it would be… But I absolutely promise the next one will be! Chapters 5 and 6 were supposed to be just one chapter but it got too long so I had to split it… And again please let me know of any errors because this is only proof read by myself.

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Please Read the Below First:

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

I’m Not You’re F*cking Maid

Chapter 5

After thorough interviewing of the staff and regular patrons; long searches through copious auction records and meticulous studying of the items in the shop we narrowed our search down to one item: an old jade hairpin. The hairpin belonged to a young lady who was given the gift as a wedding present, however when she found out on her wedding night that her new husband was having an affair, she stabbed him to death with it before jumping to her own demise from their third floor balcony. That was just over a century ago, and she was still wreaking havoc on unfaithful men to this day.

“I mean I get where she’s coming from,” I shrugged as we walked back to the motel. Both brothers turned to look at me with concern smeared over their features. “OBVIOUSLY I don’t agree with all the murder,” they breathed a sigh of relief, “but you can’t hate her for being mad. I would be too.”

“Remind me never to get on your bad side,” Dean said, raising his eyebrows a little and holding his hands up. I gave him a look of bewilderment.

“What side do you think you’re on, Dean? Because this,” I gestured between us, “isn’t my good side.” He mumbled something incoherent as we got to the motel so I chose to ignore him completely.

“So what’s the plan? It’s getting late and we can’t really do anything now until that charity event taking place at the auction house tomorrow. We’re already pretty clued up on how to get rid of ghosts so there’s really not much to do except to get both your names on that guest list,” Sam patted his laptop, looking at both of us.

“Food?” Dean and I said at the same time.

“Food sounds good,” Sam nodded. The boys turned around to leave when I stopped them.

“Just whilst we’re still at the motel, I’m just going to freshen up real quick.”

Dean rolled his eyes, “really?” I flipped him the bird.

“I can just meet you there? There’s like only one diner in this town and I know the way. I won’t be long.” The brothers looked at each other for a few seconds before Sam looked at me and smiled.

“Sure ok, we’ll get a seat in the window so we can see you coming.”

“Great! I’ll see you soon,” I grinned at the younger Winchester before turning away and letting myself into my room.

I had the worlds quickest shower and threw on some clean underwear and a clean top, feeling better after getting the grime from the day off. I pulled on my jeans, socks and boots, applied a small amount of eyeliner and mascara and tidied my hair the best I could before slinging on my jacket and applying some perfume to my wrists and neck. It was one of my favourite scents: I’d bought it from some lingerie store a year or so ago and it’s apparently one of those aphrodisiac perfumes, however I have no idea if it even works or not. It’s probably a scam, nothing works that well in real life.

After I’d finished sorting myself out - which took no longer than half an hour - I grabbed my phone and keys and left the room, locking up before making my way towards the diner. Night had descended, the air turning cold against my warm skin and the usually busy streets now lay deserted and car-free. It was only about a five minute walk or so from the motel and I was now only about a minute away when I noticed that I wasn’t alone. I’d caught a glimpse of a figure dressed from head to toe in black in the reflection of several shop windows, and they were following my exact trail. I sped up, walking faster down the empty main road and hoping it was all a coincidence as worst case scenarios started to race through my mind. It wasn’t long until the diner was in sight and I breathed a sigh of relief, however the relief was short lived when those footsteps were getting closer and closer, quicker and quicker right behind me. It dawned on me that this wasn’t a coincidence at all - I was definitely being stalked. I started to run, my legs moving before my brain had kicked into gear and I was only inches from the front door when the stranger caught up, slamming me against the wall of the building and putting a knife to my throat, covering my mouth with a gloved hand.

“Don’t make a fucking noise - you’re coming with me,” he said aggressively yet quietly. I could feel the blade of the knife pressing against the soft skin of my neck and I couldn’t help but feel tears well in my eyes, my breath turning shaky as my heart hammered in my chest. I couldn’t even get any words out as his hand was too tight over my lips.

I wanted to cry out for help so badly it hurt.

I squeezed my eyes shut, wishing that this was all a bad dream. My cheek was pushed into the rough brick which grazed my skin, and I silently prayed for my attacker to just let me go or for some hero to come and save me. At that very moment I heard the door to the diner and my eyes shot open, instantly connecting with Deans. I watched as surprise turned to horror which then turned to pure feral rage on his face and before I even had a chance to blink he was gone from my line of sight - but so was the pressure keeping me pinned against the wall. I spun around and I watched Dean throw the stalker to the floor with more force that I thought he could muster and tower over him. Dean didn’t say a word, but the stranger let out a sharp cry of pain as Dean instantly brought his boot down on his ribs. There was a CRACK. He did it again.

And again.

And again.

And then he got down and pinned my attacker flush against the tarmac before he brought a closed fist down on his face over and over and over again, cracking his jaw and breaking his nose. Dean didn’t stop until the man was totally unrecognisable and unresponsive. Standing up off of his limp body, he looked over to me, his furious, almost animalistic stare softening instantly, even through all the blood that now painted his face. He took one step towards me before my feet worked on their own and carried me straight to him. I put my arms out to reach for him and he grabbed my hands and pulled me into his chest with zero hesitation, his arms circling me and his blood-soaked palms gently stroking my hair. I sobbed. I sobbed from the fear I felt, I sobbed for feeling like such a victim and I sobbed for the relief I now felt flooding my veins as Dean held me, not saying a word. Listening to his heartbeat with my ear to his chest, I felt so safe and secure that it made me want to sob even more.

*

Dean ended up taking me straight back to my room - he called Sam to tell him what had happened as he wasn’t going to be returning to the diner. I had my second shower of the day as soon as we returned, wanting to scrub everywhere that horrible man had touched. Whilst I was washing, Dean had headed back to his own room to shower off the layer of blood coating his skin. After I was satisfactorily clean, I dried myself and dressed in that old T-shirt I wore the night before, pulling on some fresh underwear and perching on the end of the bed. I picked up the remote and started mindlessly flicking through channels, hoping to find something to distract my racing brain.

I’d been sitting in the same position for around ten minutes when there was a gentle knock on the door. I held my breath as I got up and walked over, looking through the peephole. It was Dean. I released that breath as I opened the door and let him in. He’d changed from his usual gruff attire to something way more comfortable - a plain white T-shirt and a pair of plaid pyjama bottoms. He smiled at me. A kind smile, nothing like those teasing and sly ones we’d been throwing at each other since yesterday. This one was genuine, and it made my chest feel warm. He locked the door behind him as I padded back over to the bed and climbed on it, sitting right in the centre with my legs crossed. I pulled the T-shirt down to cover my dignity as Dean placed a carrier bag in front of me. I peeked inside. It was full to the brim of all different types of snacks and I grinned up at him.

“You sure do know how to treat a girl, Winchester.”

He let out a soft laugh and looked down at the floor before taking residence beside me.

“You’re the first one who thinks so”.

“Oh yeah?”

“There’s a long line of women who definitely think otherwise,” he smiled a slightly sad smile. We both paused before I continued.

“Well if it means anything, what you did for me today, I-” he held a hand up to stop me as he saw the look of fear flit across my features again, the horrid memory bubbling to the surface.

“It was the least I could do,” he said softly before his brows furrowed, “but to be honest I should never have let you out of my sight.” The almost protective tone of his voice made my heart flutter a little, but It was my turn to reassure him as I placed my hand on his shoulder delicately.

“Dean, none of us knew that would happen. I know you wouldn’t have left me alone if you genuinely thought I was in danger - after all, you DID promise to keep me safe from my own shadow,” I flashed him a grin which he quickly returned, chuckling. We sat for a few moments in a strangely comfortable silence before there was another knock at the door. I went to get up to answer it but Dean beat me to it, swinging it open to show a very concerned Sam stood in the doorway. He looked at me with those big ever-worried eyes and I shot him my best ‘please don’t worry’ grin.

“I’m fine, Sam” I called out to him as I tried to listen in on the hushed words Dean was speaking. They conversed for a while, occasionally throwing glances at me as I rustled around in the bag of goodies Dean had supplied. Growing bored of not being involved with their conversation, I scooted back on the bed to lean back on the headboard and proceeded to flick through dozens of channels until I found something decent to watch. A few more minutes had passed and I’d munched my way through almost half a bag of Doritos when I heard the door close and it was just me and Dean again. He had a paper bag that Sam must’ve passed him, which he held up and pointed to.

“The blood stains came out of my clothes, although Sam said the people in the laundromat were giving him strange looks,” he laughed slightly, those striking eyes of his looking down into mine as he took a few steps closer. I laughed slightly, only imagining Sam’s awkwardness in that situation. I broke my gaze away from Dean for a few seconds, looking down at my hands before looking back up. I could tell he was hovering now, just waiting for me to say something.

“Dean I’m fine, you don’t have to stay.”

“Are you sure? I don’t mind staying for a bit longer if you need me to” his hand ran over the stubble on his chin, his eyes not leaving me.

“Really, I’m ok. I’m probably just going to sit here and watch whatever this is-”

“It’s obviously Men in Black,” Dean scoffed. I smiled, finding comfort in the familiar snarky remark.

“Obviously - I don’t live under a rock Dean,” I rolled my eyes as I stood up, placing my hands on his chest. He was so warm to the touch that it was almost enticing me not to let go. The gentle thrum of his heartbeat was so soothing. But I did let go, and I spun him around to start ushering him to the door. As he was leaving, I grabbed my half eaten bag of chips and started munching again. He opened the door, stepping outside.

“Go back to your room Dean. I promise I’m ok. I don’t want you both hovering over me constantly making sure I’m fine; that will just make me feel worse,” I said as he spun to face me, nodding his head.

“Back to normal. Got it.”

“Great,” I said, sucking the tangy chip dust from my thumb. Dean suddenly reached out and snatched the half-eaten bag from my hand before quickly walking away.

“I’ll see you in the morning!” He shouted back at me before shovelling food into his mouth.

“You ass! I was eating those!” He shrugged in an overly animated fashion, not bothering to turn and look at me as he continued towards his room. I sighed, closing the door and locking it, sliding the chain across this time too. I padded back towards the bed and climbed in, pulling the covers up to my chin. As I started to drift off, the buzz of the movie still playing in the background, I smiled a little to myself:

Fucking Winchester.

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Up Next:

Chapter 6

[hollandorks]

haven

battinson! bruce wayne x f! reader

chapter fourteen

Summary: After the sudden deaths of her mother and grandmother, y/n is forced to return home to Gotham…and to the man who broke her heart three years ago. Back in Bruce Wayne’s inescapable orbit, she vows to get to the bottom of her former best friend’s new cold personality. But Bruce’s secrets aren’t what she’s expecting.

a/n: I'm back to posting semi-regularly, yay! Not sure when the next chapter will be finished because of the holidays but hopefully it'll be within the next week or so! This one is a little on the shorter side, but the next several will be longer I think! (Since I haven't actually written them--but I have plans and they're lengthy.)

Series Masterlist

word count: 2k

“Oh man,” Martinez groaned as his eyes flicked from Alfred, to her, to the picture, and back again. He gulped audibly. Next to him, Blake the security guard was white as a sheet. “Gordon’s gonna kill me.”

“Gordon’s gonna kill me,” Martinez said for the twentieth time as y/n poured him a cup of coffee to replace the one that was currently still on the foyer floor. “I was supposed to be the one paying attention. I was the one he trusted.” Which, he informed  her after maybe the fourth “Gordon’s gonna kill me,” that meant he was Gordon’s most trusted on her security team. He was one who was secretly supposed to make sure no one else was compromised. 

“Martinez,” y/n said for the nineteenth time. “No he isn’t. You were doing your job. You already said you didn’t leave, or fall asleep, or take a call. In fact, you did your job so well you ignored my offer of coffee.” She held out the new mug. 

Martinez was still nervously mangling the hat of his uniform. He was completely ignoring her reassurances. He went still after a second, then turned eyes that were twice as frightened to her. “Man, Mr. Wayne’s gonna be so mad too, isn’t he? This is his house.” 

Y/n narrowed her eyes. “I’ll handle Bruce. And besides–Alfred’s more in charge than he is, and he already agreed it wasn’t your fault.” Alfred had met Gordon downstairs a few minutes earlier. The elevator and entire lobby had been turned into a crime scene. Martinez and y/n were waiting to give their statements. 

Easing Martinez’s fears was much easier than facing her own. It was easy to focus on him and nothing else. Because in the short half hour since she’d first found the picture, each bit of new information was worse than the last. No one on the security detail had been harmed, bribed, or had even moved. The security cameras had been turned off for only ten minutes. Which all meant that someone had enough access to Wayne Tower and its security to get past everything extra that had been set up. 

They wanted her to know that they could get to her. 

And they were drawing it out. Instead of grabbing her, they were making her wait. Making her scared.

Y/n focused again on the nervous cop in front of her, who was still bemoaning the fact that everyone was going to be mad at him. 

“If you don’t stop, I’m going to be mad at you,” she snapped. There was a headache blooming between her eyes. 

Martinez quieted, looking like a kicked puppy with a mustache. “Jesus, I’m so sorry, y/n. If I can make it up to you at all–” 

“Just drink your coffee, okay? No one blames you.” Y/n took a sip of her coffee. Her hands were still shaking, and some of the liquid spilled over as she set the cup back down. Damn, she was wasting a lot of coffee in one night. 

She startled when a warm hand landed atop hers. She looked up and met Martinez’s soft gaze. He didn’t say anything else, but his presence was enough to steady her. 

“I’m so glad they didn’t shoot you,” she said after a moment. 

They shared a grin. “Hell, me too.” 

An awareness prickled along y/n’s spine.

She looked up, and there was Bruce. 

His hair was stuck to his forehead and his shirt was on inside out. Her stomach swooped. There really only seemed to be one possibility from those two clues, plus the fact that he hadn’t been home. 

Jealousy and shame spread like hot oil through her stomach. 

Bruce looked…angry. His eyes were twin blue flames where they stayed locked on Martinez’s hand atop hers. 

Martinez scrambled to his feet as if the king of fucking England had just walked in. More coffee spilled as he bumped the table. Y/n half expected him to bow for Bruce. She rolled her eyes. 

“Mr. Wayne! I’m so sorry, I swear I was paying attention, I–” 

Bruce’s eyes went cold. “And you are?” 

“Officer Martinez, we actually met back–” 

Y/n’s eyes narrowed. It was her turn to jump to her feet. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” she said to Bruce.  

Martinez flinched. Bruce calmly glanced her way then went back to glaring at Martinez. 

“When the security of my home has been compromised due to incompetence–” Bruce said, still calm despite the obvious fury in his eyes. 

Y/n cut him off. “Oh shut up. Stop talking to him like that. It wasn’t his fault!” 

Bruce’s eyes flashed. “Well, it was certainly someone’s.” 

“Maybe it was yours, then.” The words rose within her on a tide of anger. God, her life had been threatened again, and he had the nerve to come home from fucking his girlfriend and act like a dick to her friend? “I mean, you’ve been letting the rest of the tower go to shit for years, makes sense that maybe security is a little lax. Especially if you don’t even give enough of a shit to ever be here.” 

They were almost toe to toe now, both breathing heavily. From the corner of her eye, she saw Martinez freeze in place, mouth open in shock. 

“I give too much of a shit, y/n. If your little boyfriend hadn’t been distracted–” 

Oh, y/n thought. Bruce thought Martinez was her boyfriend. And okay, maybe it looked like that, but Martinez actually had a great girlfriend who was in a group chat with them where they all sent memes to each other. She and Martinez wanted to set up a double date with her cousin and y/n.

The realization made the anger ebb, but then she was pissed off all over again. 

“What gives you the right to act like this?” she spat at Bruce. He was so much taller than her that her neck was starting to ache from glaring up at him. “After what you did, after what you said, you’re acting like you have any right to one, be involved in my personal life at all or two, be jealous!” 

Bruce flinched. Just like the first time it had happened two days ago, it didn’t feel as good as she thought it would. 

“Um,” Martinez said in the echoing silence. “We’re actually just friends and I–I’m going to go give my statement now?” 

Y/n barely noticed him leaving. 

She was so sick of being so afraid, so heartbroken, so…everything. 

“You’re going to apologize to him whether he’s just my friend or not,” she said, poking Bruce in the chest. He winced and tried to mask it by looking away. “I already told you, Bruce. I lost you three years ago. Stop acting like that didn’t fucking happen, because it did.” 

Bruce’s hands were clenched into fists at his sides. Now he wasn’t looking her in the eye at all. “I didn’t mean–” 

“Oh, shut the fuck up, yes you did.” But the words were bereft of the anger that had been present only moments before. She took a deep breath and a step backwards. “I’m just–sick of pretending things are the same, okay? I know you want to go all protective-best-friend thinking Martinez is my boyfriend or that he put me in danger but–I can’t just–Things aren’t–” Suddenly words were failing her. “It’s just not the same, okay?” 

She watched as Bruce softened, too. “Y/n, I’m sorry, I–” 

“Why did Martinez just run out of here like a bomb went off?” Gordon’s voice cut across whatever Bruce had been about to say. 

“Mommy and Daddy were fighting,” y/n said drily, her defense mechanism of humor kicking in. Bruce made a choking noise. “Find anything useful? Like maybe Frank Gallo?”

She could almost hear Gordon’s teeth grinding from across the room. “No.” 

“Bruce,” Alfred said from behind Gordon. “We have some things to discuss.” 

Bruce gave her one last glance before following Alfred out. 

Alone with Gordon now, y/n sank into her chair with a long sigh. She stared at the little coffee spills as if they had personally offended her. “If I spill any more coffee tonight I might kill someone.” 

“Now that would be a sight. Looked like you were about to do Mr. Wayne in already.” Gordon chuckled and took the seat across from her. He flipped open a small notebook. 

“I’m still not opposed to smothering him in his sleep,” she muttered. “Arrest me if you have to.” 

“How about I get your statement instead?” 

It didn’t take long. She was basically a pro at giving statements to the police at this point. When she was done, she said, “I’m so…tired of giving statements to the police.” 

Gordon regarded her with sharp eyes that didn’t miss anything. “We’re doing everything we can, y/n,” he said softly. 

“I know, I know. It’s just–getting shot at was scary and all, but this is my home.” Her voice cracked. She ducked her head and fiddled with her coffee mug so Gordon wouldn’t see the tears in her eyes. “They’re telling me they can get to me here, too. Where I’m supposed to be safe.”

“I understand completely. We’ll get him. We’ll get them. I have a feeling he might show up on our doorstep sooner rather than later, with something bat-shaped pinned to him and a couple of black eyes and broken bones.” Gordon smirked. Y/n frowned as she realized she hadn’t seen Batman at all. Had he been downstairs? Maybe Bruce hadn’t wanted him to come upstairs. Her frown deepened. “Now, you’re going to have to help me convince Officer Martinez not to sleep in the elevator tonight. Or right outside your door. He’s pretty upset.” 

“I’m surprised he still wants to hang around, considering how much of a dick Bruce was,” y/n said under her breath. “But I’ll do my best.” 

Martinez took a lot of convincing, but eventually relented and went home to his girlfriend. He made y/n put a chair under her bedroom door handle first, though.

Bruce hadn’t reappeared by the time y/n went to bed. 

She laid down, the words of their argument–or whatever the hell that had been–replaying on a loop. Being around him made her feelings go haywire. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so angry at him. The heartbreak of three years ago had taken over her life and she had to admit that the anger felt…almost good. Cathartic. But it also made her feel out of control. She didn’t feel like herself. Being mad at Bruce went against years of instincts. She was used to defending him, or him defending her, to being on the same team together.

She was still wide awake as dawn broke over the sky hours later. 

Another thought kept turning over and over in her mind. Frank Gallo–or someone he had hired–had gotten into her home. Her very, very secure home. 

She had been afraid before, but it was nothing like this. Her safe haven had been…sullied. They knew who she was, where she lived, and had basically said right to her face that not even Bruce Wayne’s money and power could keep her safe. 

Added all together, y/n’s mind simply would not shut off in order for her to sleep.

It occurred to her again that she hadn’t seen Batman at all–had Gordon updated him on what happened? Because he had been in that photo, too. He had kept her alive, which she was certain had pissed off the Gallos. Was he a target? Maybe the picture of them together was a threat to both of them, but only given to her since they knew where she lived. 

When she rolled over, her eyes caught on all of her research piled on the opposite side of the bed. Her eyes snagged on those three words: white knight syndrome. 

She bet she had her answer about any possible feelings he might have. Even if he had shown up, he hadn’t tried to contact her, to see her, nothing. He was probably sick of having to keep her alive. He was probably leaving it up to Gordon and the police department now. 

Despite everyone who was trying hard to keep her alive, y/n felt utterly alone. 

Next Chapter

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[thenerdykneazle]

Marry You

Summary: Garreth proclaims to anyone and everyone, including you, that he is going to marry you one day – despite the fact that you haven’t even agreed to court him (not that he's asked). Set during 5th year. It was supposed to be a bunch of short drabbles. One of them got out of hand (oops).

Garreth Weasley x Gryffindor F!MC

A/N: I added Garreth to DADA b/c in the game he only has like 2 classes with MC. It’s a crime that they didn’t give him the same schedule as Leander, honestly. You know those idiots would be besties and take all the same classes.

Warnings: none, pure fluff for a change, pining, *slight* Seb bashing if you squint but really he's just his moody self

Word Count: 6330

To Imelda

Garreth was elated when you handed him the fwooper feather. “Brilliant! This is going to take a moment to brew. You should get back to brewing your Edurus Potion, and I’ll tell you when this concoction’s finished.”

“Don’t keep me waiting too long,” you replied before leaving to work on your own potion. Garreth watched you walk away with stars in his eyes.

Imelda came up beside him. “Causing trouble again, Weasley?” she asked.

Garreth jumped at the girl suddenly so close to him. “Just getting started. I think I’ve got a partner in crime now,” he said.

“Oh?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “Dragging that new fifth-year into your schemes, are you?”

He gave her a cheeky smile. “I may be dragging her into my schemes, but I’d let her drag me anywhere,” he said.

Imelda scrunched up her face in disgust at the mushy proclamation. “Ugh! Down boy,” she said. “You’ve only just met the poor girl.”

He sighed dreamily as he watched you work across the room. You seemed to have a knack for potions like he did. “Maybe, but I’m gonna marry her one day,” he said, imaging a future running a shop in Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley with you.

Imelda rolled her eyes at the dramatic boy. “Whatever you say, Gryffindor,” she said before walking off.

When his potion sparked out wild fireworks, he caught your eye in the chaos. You looked thoroughly amused, and he couldn’t help but feel that the potion had been a resounding success if it got you to smile that way. He did feel a bit guilty that he had gotten you in hot water with Sharp, but the ex-auror didn’t seem too fussed about things.

To Sebastian

Garreth was enamoured when you knocked Sebastian on his ass. Again. You were all duelling in Defense Against the Dark Arts class, and Professor Hecat seemed to enjoy seeing the Slytherin knocked down a peg as much as Leander did since she paired you and Sebastian together a second time. Garreth cheered even louder than Leander for you, and you gave the dorky pair a little salute.

Personally, though, Garreth had never had an issue with his fellow freckled classmate. He was friendly, had a good sense of humour, and enjoyed helping other students with their studies – or, at least, he used to before his sister was cursed. They had even teamed up on a prank here and there over the years. So, when Garreth saw the way the brunet looked at you, he had one thought as he smirked to himself: Game on.

You helped Sebastian back to his feet. “Nice job,” he said. “All your extra practice is paying off.”

You shrugged. “I suppose so,” you agreed. “You’ve been improving, as well, though.”

“I’d like a fair fight sometime. Get to use all my tricks,” he said. “Though, I could show you one or two beforehand if you’d like.”

You smiled slightly. “I might be interested,” you replied.

“I’ll be in touch, then,” Sebastian said with a smirk. He brushed himself off as he walked back to Ominis.

You walked back to your fellow Gryffindors. “Godric himself would be proud,” Leander said as Garreth gave you a congratulatory hug.

From across the room, Sebastian eyed the redhead as he embraced you. Garreth caught him watching and sent him a wink and a cheeky grin.

“That was bloody brilliant!” Garreth said as he let go of you.

“Thanks,” you said, beaming at him.

Leander resisted the urge to roll his eyes as his curly-haired friend seemed to dominate your attention and vice versa. He busied himself talking to Andrew. You and Garreth started talking about your recent encounter with a kneazle den out in the forest, barely noticing your friend’s absence. Soon, though, Professor Hecat stole you away to talk about an extra assignment.

Garreth took the opportunity to saunter over to the Slytherins. “You put up a good fight,” he said to Sebastian.

“Thanks,” he replied before cutting to the chase. “So, you and MC seem pretty cozy.” Sebastian had always been the jealous type.

“I should hope so,” Garreth replied. “I am going to marry her, after all.”

Sebastian raised an eyebrow at that. Weasleys were a known pure-blood family, but most of them weren’t those kinds of pure-bloods that had their children pledged to suitors from a young age.

Ominis gave the Gryffindor a pitying expression, though Garreth didn’t notice as Sebastian spoke up at the same time. “Didn’t realize your family was into that sort of thing. Arranged betrothals and whatnot,” he said.

“Oh, no, we’ll marry for love,” Garreth said confidently.

“Wait, so are you even engaged?” Ominis asked.

Garreth laughed. “No, of course not! We’re fifteen,” he replied. “Well, I’ll be sixteen next month.”

“So, are you courting?” Sebastian asked.

“Not yet,” Garreth said simply.

Sebastian narrowed his eyes at the ginger. “So, what you’re saying is, you have no actual claim to her,” he said.

Garreth shrugged, looking unbothered. “I may not have any official title yet, but I wanted to give you fair warning not to fall too hard for her.”

Sebastian laughed. “Yeah, thanks, mate,” he said sarcastically. “What makes you so certain she’d choose you, anyway?”

Garreth smirked at him. “I just am.”

He let that be his final word, as he saw you walking away from Professor Hecat. Sebastian just gaped at the overconfident boy as he left. “Gryffindors,” he grumbled.

“You do realize that includes MC,” Ominis pointed out.

Sebastian rolled his eyes. “Oh, shut it.”

To Leander

Garreth overheard you telling Professor Shah that you didn’t have a telescope. He was disappointed when she paired you with Amit before he could offer. He felt a pang of jealousy when Amit offered his old telescope to you. He tried to refocus on the stargazing he was supposed to be doing. Leander was struggling to find Sirius. He helped his best friend before they hurried downstairs, seeking the warmth of the castle.

On the way down, he overheard Amit asking you to go out to an astronomy table with him. The small pang of jealousy he felt earlier bloomed into anguish. Was Amit really trying to earn your affections? He expected to have to compete with Sallow, but he felt bad at the idea of stealing you away from the good-natured Ravenclaw. Not bad enough to back off, of course, but still.

He and Leander walked all the way back to the Gryffindor common room. Garreth flopped into an armchair with a huff.

Leander raised an eyebrow at him. “What’s got you so worked up?” he asked.

“Amit’s trying to flirt with my future wife,” Garreth grumbled.

“Oh, not this again,” Leander muttered to himself.

“Yes, this again,” Garreth replied firmly. “I’m serious, Lee. She’s the one.”

Leander just shook his head in amusement. “Yes, you’ve made that very clear,” he said. “And why is it you think Amit is trying to steal her affections?”

“You didn’t hear him?” Garreth practically yelled. He jumped to his feet and started pacing. “First, he was all, ‘Oh, let me adjust the telescope for you.’ Then he just gave her his old telescope. And then, he invited her out exploring the grounds to go find an astronomy table.”

“He might as well have proposed right then,” Leander replied nonchalantly, still reclining lazily on the couch and biting back a smirk.

“I know! I–” Garreth started, but he paused, spinning around to face Leander. He glared at the taller boy. “You’re mocking me.”

Leander let the smile break onto his face. “A bit,” he admitted. “Gar, Amit is just friendly. He’d give an Ashwinder the shirt off his back if they said they were cold. You’re reading too much into it.”

“Am I?” Garreth asked seriously, putting a hand on his hip as he eyed his friend.

“Yes,” Leander replied equally seriously. “And, with all due respect to your undying love, you barely know MC. What if you’re not compatible? What if she wants to move to Peru or something when she graduates? What if she doesn’t want kids?”

Garreth shrugged. “I don’t need kids,” he said.

Leander rolled his eyes. “Have you met your family?” he asked. “And you practically knocked me into the Black Lake jumping into my arms when you got the owl saying your brother and his wife are having a baby.”

Garreth blushed at the memory. “Okay, but they’re out snuggling up in the cold to go look at the stars,” he whined.

“Your brother and his pregnant wife?” Leander asked.

Garreth let out a frustrated groan. “No, MC and Amit! Keep up, Lee! There’s no chance he’s not trying to woo her in such a romantic setting. They’ll probably be out all night, knowing MC. They’ll cozy up as they watch the sunrise and kiss just as the sun peaks out over the horizon.”

“Ah, you’re back to the whole Amit thing,” Leander observed.

“He’s probably got his arms around her right now to ‘help’ her focus the telescope,” Garreth said. “Maybe I should go out there and–”

Garreth fell silent at the sound of the portrait creaking open. He was glad he did when he saw you stepping into the common room. “You’re home early!” he said. He had meant to say it in a cool, casual tone but ended up shouting it in excitement, instead.

“Am I?” you asked, giving him a confused look. “I didn’t know I had an appointment.”

“Well, I just heard Amit invite you out stargazing and figured you’d be gone a while,” Garreth blurted out. Leander smacked a hand over his face as he shook his head at his moronic friend.

“Oh,” you said. You shrugged. “The table was just on the castle wall. It didn’t take long to find.”

“Do you want kids?” Garreth asked, stunning both you and Leander.

You looked at him with wide eyes. “Right now?” you asked. “Because I’ll have to pass, thanks.”

Garreth’s face flamed with embarrassment. “Merlin, no, that’s not what I…Not now, just…in the future. Possibly. I mean, do you like kids?” he corrected.

“Oh. Yeah, one day. I love kids,” you replied.

“Great!” he said before he could stop himself. “Because, um, my brother is having a baby soon, and I’ll have to do a lot of babysitting. I might need a hand, and Lee here is useless with kids, so…”

Leander glared at him, and Garreth just gave him an apologetic smile.

“That sounds fun!” you replied.

Garreth’s eyes lit up. “Brilliant! I’ll reach out if I need assistance, then,” he said with a dopey grin.

“Sounds good,” you said as you made your way toward the stairs up to the girls’ dormitories. “Good night, you two.”

They both wished you a good night. Once your back was turned, Garreth smiled wildly at Leander and mouthed ‘I told you’ rather aggressively at him. Leander just rolled his eyes.

To Poppy

Garreth sprinted down the corridors to reach the faculty tower. He took the stairs up it three at a time, grabbing the handrail to whip sharply around the landings. His legs were on fire by the time he reached the infirmary. He was too out of breath to form a proper sentence when he’d met Nurse Blainey at the entrance.

“Where…How…MC?” he managed between pants as his lungs heaved to get the oxygen his body so desperately needed.

“She’s okay, so just take a moment–” she said, holding up her hands to try to get the boy to pause and catch his breath.

“I need to see her. Please,” he urged.

He looked as if he might burst into tears at any moment, and the mediwitch took pity on the boy. She led him to your bedside. “She’s stable but hasn’t woken up yet. I gave her a sedative so I could change the dressing over a rather painful wound on her leg. It should heal completely in time, though,” she explained as she walked him over.

She held the curtain around your bed back, so Garreth could step inside of it. He gasped when he saw the cuts and bruises on your face and arms. The rest of you was hidden under the blanket, and he could only imagine how much worse it got. Poppy was sitting in a chair on the far side of the bed. Garreth sat down opposite her, pulling the chair closer to the bed while turning it around so he could face the head of the it. He held your hand gently in both of his.

You were a force to be reckoned with, but right now you looked so…fragile.

“What happened?” he rasped, looking over to Poppy.

“We…It happened so fast,” she said, head bowed in shame. “We were fighting a camp of poachers, and a manticore sprang out of their tent. It had a collar of goblin metal they used to control it. It attached her, scratching her, and biting her leg.” She dropped her face into her hands. “Merlin, her scream.” Poppy winced at the memory.

“A manticore?” Garreth repeated in disbelief. “Godric’s heart, I’m glad it didn’t sting her!”

“It almost did, but I cast depulso and knocked it off of her,” she said. “I just wish I’d reacted sooner.”

“Hey,” Garreth said gently as he held a hand out to her across the bed. She sheepishly took it as she finally raised her eyes to look at him. “You saved her life. I can’t thank you enough for that.” He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze and smiled gently at her.

“O-oh. Are you two…? I mean, I didn’t realize you were more than friends,” she said, pulling her hand out of his grasp and linking it with the other one in her lap. She trained her gaze on her hands rather than the boy sat across from her.

“We’re not. Not yet, anyway,” Garreth said as he looked at you with a fond smile on his face. He turned back to Poppy with a devilish grin. “Make no mistake, though, I’m gonna make her my wife one day.”

“Wow. That’s, um, wonderful,” she said, giving him a pained smile.

Garreth chuckled. “I know everyone thinks I’m crazy for saying it, but I really do believe it. She’s captured my heart and soul, this one,” he said.

“She’s a lucky girl,” Poppy said sincerely.

“I hope so,” Garreth replied with a grateful smile. He looked back at you. “I know she hasn’t been here very long, but I don’t know what I’d do if I ever really lost her. I’d have to find a new supplier for all my potion ingredients and everything!” He spoke sincerely until the last sentence.

You let out a groan as you rubbed your head with the hand Garreth wasn’t holding. “I think I’m gonna have to close shop for a week or two,” you croaked out.

Garreth chuckled. “All the cute things I said, and you wake up for that part?” he teased.

You gave him an apologetic smile. “Sorry, Gar,” you said. “I’ll try to time it better next time.”

The sincerity in your voice nearly broke his heart. He reached a hand up to stroke your cheek. “Hey, no, I was just joking,” he said sweetly. “But there better not be a ‘next time,’ and I’m very serious about that. No more close calls like this.”

You nodded your head slowly. Your eyes were half closed. “That sounds good to me,” you said.

He managed a small smile. He’d been a nervous wreck when he heard you were in the infirmary with serious injuries. It was a relief just to talk to you. “Get some rest now, okay? We’ll be here,” he said.

“M’kay,” you agreed with a soft sigh. Your eyes were already closing again, heavy with exhaustion.

Garreth stroked the back of your hand as he carefully watched the bruises on your face fade. It was slow – barely noticeable as it happened – but after a few hours the dark, angry purple marks had shrunk with the remaining areas turned faded hues of yellow and green. He delicately brushed the hair back from your face. Your cuts were now thin lines of new flesh, pink and tender-looking. Garreth traced some of the lines on your arm carefully with his left index finger. His right hand continued to hold yours.

Curfew came before you roused again. Nurse Blainey came to dismiss the students still by your bedside. Poppy stood to leave, but Garreth requested to stay.

“I assure your she’s in capable hands, Mr. Weasley,” the mediwitch said. “I’m afraid visiting hours are over for today. You may come back when they begin tomorrow. After breakfast.”

He had skipped dinner, though he didn’t know how Nurse Blainey had known. The meal had just begun when he got the news of your injury.

Garreth trudged out alongside Poppy. “I’m glad she has someone who cares so deeply for her,” the mousy girl said as they left the hospital wing. “She’s my best friend – and only friend, really – and I want her to be happy.”

Garreth nodded with a pensive look on his face. “Thank you, Poppy,” he said. “I’m glad she’s got you to watch her back out there.”

She gave him a tight smile and a nod. She still felt responsible.

They parted once they left the faculty tower, heading to their separate common rooms. Garreth had a fitful night sleep before getting out of bed before the sun was up. He ate a rushed breakfast before returning to the hospital wing. You were sat up in the bed, eating your own breakfast from a tray set over your lap. You smiled when you saw him approaching.

“If it isn’t my favourite customer,” you said with a smirk.

Garreth rolled his eyes playfully. “How is it that was the only thing you got from my visit yesterday?” he asked.

You chuckled. “I was heavily medicated,” you replied with a shrug. You shifted to sit toward the left side of the bed, grimacing as you pulled your right leg over.

Garreth lunged forward to help when he saw your pained expression, but it was gone in an instant. You patted the newly open spot on the bed next to you. He carefully sat down, keeping an eye on your leg so he didn’t bump it.

“So, what else did you say when you came to visit?” you asked. “I have it on good authority it was quite cute.”

Garreth’s cheeks flushed. “Just, um, that I was very relieved you were okay and wouldn’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Yes, well, it would put a damper on our marriage if I was dead before it began,” you joked.

Garreth just gave you a shy smile.

You had known for a while how Garreth liked to tell people he was going to marry you one day. You thought it was funny and would join in on the joke from time to time. You took it as a compliment. He usually tied it to some praise of your skill, whether in combat, on a broom, or brewing potions. He had a flare for the dramatic, so you didn’t read too much into it. You’d heard him tell Leander he could kiss him when the taller boy had bought him a set of rare potion ingredients for his birthday.

Garreth was warm and affectionate, but he didn’t show signs that there was real weight to his jests. There were no intense stares or lingering touches like there were with a certain Slytherin. He was affectionate with you but not in an intimate way. He would give big bear hugs and would sometimes grab your wrist to drag you somewhere exciting. However, he never rested his hand on your lower back as he led you somewhere nor held your hand. Well, last night was an exception. You were fairly certain that when you had awoken last night, he had been holding your right hand, while Poppy had held your left.

Poppy. You two had become fast friends. She was the reason you wouldn’t entertain his affections even if you had thought them genuine. She had quite the crush on the kind-hearted ginger. She’d fallen for him shortly after you introduced them. She gushed about him constantly. You could never hurt her like it would if you started courting Garreth. She would be devastated.

“How are you feeling?” Garreth asked. His brow was furrowed with worry.

“As well as can be expected. The bastard took a nice chunk out of my calf,” you explained. “Human face but wicked sharp teeth, apparently.”

He looked at you with sad eyes. “Nurse Blainey said you’d recover fully. It that still true?”

You nodded. “Far as I know.”

“Good.” He bit his cheek as his hands fidgeted with the edge of the blanket. He put on a brave face before looking back at you. “And until you’re 100%, I’ll be by your side. Whatever you need.”

You couldn’t help but smile. He really was the sweetest boy you’d ever met. “I think I’ll be more than taken care of between you and Poppy,” you said fondly. “Speaking of, it’s cute that you two stayed with me together last night.”

Garreth gave you a puzzled look. “Cute?” he asked.

You gave a noncommittal shrug and forced your smile to broaden into a playful grin. “Yeah, I mean, I think it’s sweet. You two are just cute together.”

Garreth was really baffled now. Together? he thought. He and Poppy had hardly been ‘together.’ They sat on opposite sides of your bed, tending to you. Did you think he fancied Poppy? He was confused how you could. He thought he’d been rather obvious in his affections for you, while always trying to be respectful.

“Oh,” was all he managed to say.

You couldn’t tell if he didn’t like Poppy back or was just being shy about his feelings. So, you decided to probe a bit. “Have you ever thought about asking her out?” you said, attempting nonchalance.

“Erm, no. I can’t say I have,” he replied honestly. He swallowed a lump in his throat. He didn’t claim to know much about girls, but he was fairly certain they didn’t try to set up boys they fancied with their friends. “Do you…think I should?”

You blinked rapidly. You didn’t know what you thought. He and Poppy seemed a good fit. They were both so bubbly. You couldn’t imagine they’d be anything but happy together. But the imagine made you curiously sombre. “Well…” you started, unsure how you would finish the sentence.

Nurse Blainey pulled back the curtain. She scowled at Garreth sitting in your bed.

“Mr. Weasley,” she said sternly. “If you could step out, I need to examine my patient.”

He quickly did as told. Blainey changed your bandages on your leg, and he could tell two things from the stifled noises you made. The first was that you were in more pain than you let on. The second was that you were trying to hide it for his sake. That was only further confirmed when Blainey let him back in. You were smiling wide, but your knuckles blanched with how hard you were gripping the sheets.

“Has she had anything for pain today?” Garreth asked the mediwitch timidly.

“No, she’s refused the pain potion since she woke up,” Nurse Blainey replied.

He shot you a stern look. “She’s obviously in pain.”

She arched a brow at him. “She’s perfectly capable of requesting the potion herself.”

“I don’t like the potion. It makes me feel foggy,” you told him.

“So?” Garreth asked, a bit irritated by your stubbornness. “You’re recovering. And it’s Sunday. You should be resting, anyway.”

He looked to Blainey for support. “Are you in pain, dear?” she asked you kindly.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” you replied genially, though you gave Garreth a hard glare.

He crossed his arms over his chest. “If you grit your teeth any harder, you’ll shatter them,” he argued. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“I don’t want to sleep all day. I’d rather be able to hang out with you,” you said.

“Well, I don’t want to see you suffer!” he shot back, his voice cracking. He winced at his own volume.

“Mr. Weasley!” Nurse Blainey hissed. “I will not tolerate you yelling at my patient.”

“I’m sorry,” he said earnestly. He sank into the chair beside you, not wanting to draw further ire from Blainey by getting back in your bed. “Please, MC. I don’t like seeing you in pain. I’ll read to you or something while you rest.”

“You wouldn’t be bored?” you asked.

He rolled his eyes as a slight smirk came to his lips. “With you around? Never,” he replied.

“Could I maybe just do a half dose?” you said to Nurse Blainey. “My leg is starting to ache pretty badly.”

Garreth resisted the urge to insist you take a full dose. It was a start, at least.

The mediwitch nodded and fetched the potion.

“Thank you,” he murmured after you downed the liquid.

“Thank you,” you replied. “I should’ve taken it sooner. I was…being stubborn.”

He scoffed. “Yeah, you have a habit of that,” he teased.

You gave him a playful glare.

The sounds of hurried footsteps announced the arrival of a certain two Slytherins. “MC!” Sebastian said. “I just heard what happened. Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” you assured him. “Blainey said I should make a full recovery.”

Garreth saw you wince as Sebastian wrapped you in a big hug. “Be careful!” the Gryffindor hissed.

Sebastian ignored him. He held your face in both of his hands when he pulled back. For a brief, terrifying moment, Garreth thought the Slytherin was about to kiss you. “No more taking on poachers alone,” the brunette ordered.

“I wasn’t alone,” you argued.

Sebastian side-eyed Garreth before looking back at you. “You still didn’t have proper help. You need to tell me when you’re going to do something dangerous,” he said, still holding your face. “Promise me.”

“Poppy is proper help,” you said defensively. “We’ve been fine every other time. Fought dozens of poachers. The manticore just caught us by surprise. I don’t need you to babysit me, Sebastian.”

Sebastian’s hands dropped to his sides. “You were with Poppy?” he asked.

You nodded.

“Well, I can still help keep you safe. Obviously these poachers are getting more dangerous animals,” he said. “Let me help you.”

“You can’t come running off with us every time. You’ve got Anne to think about. You should stay focused on helping her,” you argued.

Sebastian tensed. “Then stay and help me,” he asked.

You chewed your lip “I…I can’t just stop. Anne’s got you, but no one is stopping these poachers. Poppy and I are the only ones saving those creatures.”

Sebastian’s jaw clenched. “So, you care more about those beasts than Anne?” he growled.

“That’s not what I’m saying!” you insisted.

Sebastian scowled. “That seems like it’s exactly what you’re saying.” Without another word, he stormed out of the hospital wing.

“Sebastian!” Ominis called after him. He sighed when his friend didn’t stop. He rested a hand on your shoulder. “Feel better, MC.”

Ominis pressed a kiss to the top of your head before leaving, as well.

Garreth was seething until he saw the tears slipping down your cheeks and grief gripped him. “Hey,” he said gently, sliding into the bed next to you. He wrapped his arms around you in a gentle embrace. “He’s being an idiot. He’s probably just scared. I’m sure he didn’t mean it.”

You shook your head. “No, he did. He’s always getting upset with us about not doing more for Anne.” You sighed. “I mean, we’ve tried. I just…I don’t know what else to do.”

Garreth was shocked at the treatment from your supposed friend. He had half a mind to track the Slytherin down and try to shake some sense into him. But he knew it was better to stay with you, so he did. You leaned into him as the potion’s effects took hold and the drowsiness set in.

Garreth stayed with you the whole day. Poppy came by later that morning. Leander brought him lunch and a book to read to you. Natty and the other Gryffindors came to visit you in the afternoon. Even Imelda stopped by before dinner. Sebastian came back and apologized late in the evening. He seemed less than pleased to see Garreth cuddled up to you, but he didn’t comment on it.

Garreth helped rush visits along when you would start to get tired and drift off. Blainey was in and out of the curtained-off space throughout the day. She kicked Garreth out when she needed to do dressing changes. She didn’t say anything about Garreth sitting with you in your bed, though. Nor did she kick him out when you both fell asleep to him reading the book Leander had brought.

Blainey released you the next day. Garreth thought it was too soon, but you were eager to get out. He convinced the teachers to let him follow your schedule so he could carry your things for you.

“I could’ve levitated them,” you said.

“You shouldn’t exert your magic, either,” he argued. “Besides, I told you I’d be by your side until you’re all better.”

You blushed at the thought. You had always hoped to find a way to spend more time with him. This wasn’t exactly how you would have chosen to go about it, but you would take it.

To You

The manticore incident had brought you and Garreth closer than ever. Shortly after, Poppy told you she no longer had a crush on the outgoing Gryffindor. No longer holding yourself back, your own feelings for him bloomed. Frustratingly, you felt that you constantly got mixed signals from him. He still had a running joke where he would assert to others that he would marry you one day. However, he never asked you out. Though, on rare occasions, he did hold your hand – grabbing it to drag you off to see his newest brew or to comfort you when you were upset.

Unbeknownst to you, Garreth’s own feelings had grown similarly. He was head over heels for you. But he was scared. The stronger his feelings became, the more terrified he felt that you wouldn’t return them. Leander had to practically shake sense into him that he had better ask you out before someone else did. The taller boy even threatened to ask you out himself if Garreth didn’t soon. The threat almost started a brawl between the best friends until Leander explained that he wasn’t actually interested in you – just trying to motivate Garreth to get his head out of his arse.

So, Garreth came up with a plan. He went to Honeydukes on the next Hogsmeade trip, buying all your favourite sweets. He even added a bottle of his newly-perfected Fizzing Whizzbeer that you’d raved about after trying. He arranged it all in a decorative box and tied a nice ribbon around it.

He brought it to you at dinner. He hadn’t even sat down when he handed it over.

“Thank you,” you said, surprised and a bit confused as you took the present. You were elated, if a bit puzzled, when you saw the contents. “What’s all this for?”

Garreth cleared his throat. “Well, everyone knows we’re going to be married one day. And, mark my words, we will be,” he started. You rolled your eyes at his theatrics but couldn’t help smiling. Everyone else just nodded along, having heard his proclamation many times. Natty was the only one who looked shocked by the news.

“They are betrothed?” she whispered to Leander.

He rolled his eyes. “No, but it’s a long story,” he replied.

She just shrugged.

“So, I figured it was about time I started the formal process. I’d like to court you, MC, if you’ll have me,” Garreth said. He looked exceptionally nervous.

You set the box down on the bench before springing to your feet. You threw your arms around Garreth’s neck. “Of course!” you said.

“Really?” Garreth asked, dumbstruck.

“Definitely!” you assured him.

He wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting you up as he spun around. “Brilliant! Will you go to dinner with me this Saturday?”

You beamed at him as your feet returned to solid ground. “That sounds lovely.”

Natty gave Leander a confused look. “I thought they started courting months ago,” she said.

“Yeah, you would think, wouldn’t you?” he replied with a chuckle.

To Your Dad

Garreth shifted his weight from foot to foot nervously. He checked his hair in the glass of the tavern window for the eight time. It wasn’t the first time he was meeting your father. They first met three years ago when Garreth visited you over the summer between fifth and sixth years. When the door to the establishment opened and he spotted the familiar broad shoulders and greying hair, Garreth immediately stood up.

“Garreth, my boy, good to see you,” your father greeted genially.

Garreth shook his hand. “You, as well, sir,” he said. “I’m glad you were able to meet today.”

“So, what brings you out to my neck of the woods?” your father asked as he took his seat.

Garreth could feel the heat rising in his collar, and your dad had to hold back a smile. He had strong suspicions on why the young man had reached out.

“Well, sir, I wanted to discuss some things with you about the future,” he said. “Of course, I asked you to join me for dinner. I don’t want to get too bogged down in the details on empty stomachs.”

“Oh, nonsense,” your father replied, waving him off. “Let’s hear these plans.”

“Right,” Garreth said, a bit shellshocked. “Well, sir, I’ve just finished my apprenticeship with J. Pippin. I took a job with a potioneering company in London, where I intend to stay until I’ve saved enough to start my own shop. I’ve just purchased a home in Marylebone, where I hope to settle down, you see.”

“London’s a far way from Plymouth,” your father interjected gravely, unable to help himself.

Garreth swallowed thickly. “It is,” he agreed. “Though, it’s within floo range.”

“Quite right,” your dad agreed with a slight smile. “Sorry to interrupt, lad. You were saying about settling down.”

“Your daughter and I have been discussing our plans. We’d quite like to settle down together. That is to say, we intend to marry–”

“Do you, now?” you father interjected again. His brow was arched.

Garreth nodded, steeling his nerves. “I haven’t proposed yet, of course,” he continued, and your father visibly relaxed. “But, like I said, we’ve discussed it, and I feel quite certain she would say yes. I wanted to meet today to ask for your blessing.”

Your father smiled. “Yes, I thought that might be the case,” he said. “My daughter, my only child, is quite an exceptional young woman, as you’re aware.”

“I am,” Garreth agreed as worry began to set in.

“Not just for her rare magic. She has many talents. And she’s quite driven.” He levelled Garreth with a rather frighteningly intense gaze. “I have very high standards for the man with whom she endeavours to spend her life.”

“Of course, sir,” Garreth said, trying not to feel crestfallen.

“I dare say she’ll need a man of equal ambition to keep up with her,” he said. “Though, he must still put his family first. I would never condemn her to a marriage with someone less than madly in love with her. And, indeed, I would do everything I could to prevent such an unfit union. I assure you, I am not an adversary to be taken lightly.”

Garreth had prepared himself for the possibility that your father would not give his blessing, but he had not foreseen him actively trying to prevent your marriage.

“I don’t think any man fully capable of deserving my daughter, though I am aware that I am biased on the matter,” your dad continued without giving Garreth a chance to speak. “However, I don’t think I could have hand-picked a better partner for her than she has chosen for herself.”

“I’m sure I can’t fault you for feeling that way, sir. I–” Garreth broke off as the meaning of the sternly spoken words sunk in. He gaped at your father briefly before collecting himself.

A grin broke out on the older man’s face. “I’d be honoured to have you in the family, son.”

Garreth stood, shaking your father’s hand again. He pulled his future son-in-law into a hug. “Thank you, sir. I know it’ll mean a lot to MC to have your blessing,” Garreth said.

Your dad clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Well, it means a lot to me that you care for her so deeply,” he replied. “You’re a good man, Garreth. Even if you were a bit of a scamp at school.” He winked.

Garreth’s cheeks flushed. “Yes, well, I’ve come to have a certain respect for the rules these days.”

Your dad chuckled. “That’s good to hear,” he said. “I got into my fair share of trouble at Hogwarts back in my day. And I know my daughter took after me.”

Garreth laughed. “She certainly has an adventurous spirit.”

Your dad shared some stories about the hijinks he’d gotten up to in school as they shared a meal. Garreth was glad he’d gotten the asking done before eating, as his stomach settled considerably. He couldn’t wait to tell you that your dad gave his blessing. More than that, he couldn’t wait to propose. But, most of all, he couldn’t wait to finally make you his wife like he swore he would years ago.

[luimagines]

Fake Engagement Part 2

Masterlist

Part 1

Part two will include Sky, Warrior and Twilight

Content under the cut!

Sky

You ran through the scenarios in your mind. There was one way you could get of this situation but you’d hate to be proven wrong. It would have instantaneous results.

“Come on~ I don’t bite. What harm can come from me showing you around town?” This guy hadn’t no for an answer. 

Sure he wasn’t exactly doing wrong- per say. But you didn’t trust his vibes. And you would have rather been left alone. Or with Link. Any Link. Which ever came first.

“I have a partner.” You blurt, hoping to dissuade him. This is it. This is where you hope you don’t leave to go flying out the window. “I don’t think he’d appreciate your offer as much.”

This takes the young man by surprise. “Oh. Well where is he?”

“Right here.” Sky answers from behind your back.

You can feel yourself pale. This isn’t....worse. But despite what the others said about Sky, he’s just as bad as the rest of them. You’re instantly worried.

“I’m their partner.” He comes around, reaching his hand out to shake the strangers.

“Ex.” You blurt, because you don’t want to seem too enthralled. For some reason, you’ve decided to self sabotage.

Sky is undeterred though. “Beloved, that’s a horrible way to tell people we’re engaged.”

You looks up at him.

He’s smirking.

The other guy shakes Sky hands and put his own up in mock surrender. “Alright. I can see that there’s no need for me here then. I’ll get going.”

Sky nods, not waiting for you to catch up mentally to the circumstances. “Of course. Have a good day.”

Sky sighs, putting a hand on your shoulder. “Well that went well.”

You cough and slowly move his hand off of you. “You’re crazy. I cannot believe you just said that. I bet he’s going to spread the news of something.”

“Is it that bad?” Sky leans into your face, his smirk ever present. “No one would bother you now! I think that’s a solid win!”

“Where did you even come from?” You try to change the topic, ignoring the way your face feels aflame. “I couldn’t find any of you for ages!″

He shrugs. “I was nearby. And I saw you from a distance with this guy talking to you. I didn’t think much of it at first. I was just coming by to ask you something I heard you blatantly lie. I figured that it wouldn’t hurt to back you up.”  

He smiles so brightly. He’s clearly so proud of himself. He absolutely considers this a victory.

You groaned. “Well you got him to finally go away. I suppose I should thank you.”

Sky brightens. You think you’re going to need glasses after this. “Calling me an Ex. Please. That’s an insult to my character if anything.”

“It’s not always because someone had to have done something.” You roll your eyes, punching his shoulder lightly. “Sometimes people just aren't compatible.”

“You say that as if you’ve already established that fact between the two of us.”

“Sky... Link...” You smile at him. He’s so goofy. “How would we know if we’re compatible or not?”

“There’s one way to find out.”

Oh. He’s no longer joking.

Warrior

“And this is my fiancé.” Warrior gestures to you in front of the small crowd.

He so owes me for this, you think to yourself despite the bright smile on your face. “A pleasure to meet you.”

They all smile back politely, even if they do a horrible job at pretending to be nice about it. They fan and all nod and take their small talk and their snobbish ways and leave.

You let out a breath, tightening your grip on Warrior’s arm. “I hate them already.”

He chokes on a laugh, struggling to keep his composure. “Don’t worry. I’m sure they already don’t like you either.”

You huff, turning with him as you glide through the ballroom. You have no idea where the others are, but you have to admit. It’s kind of nice to be fancy for a change. And you get to flaunt off being better than everyone else since you’ve come as Warrior’s plus one.

Something that apparently was a hot commodity around these parts. 

Enough so, that the poor captain was desperate enough to ask you for help. And who were you to deny him?

You snag a glass of some light scented alcohol for both you and Warrior while he yoinks a few finger foods off different passing plate. You trade your bounty and continue to walk around the room, pretending to be deep in unbreakable conversation. 

“I can’t imagine why they wouldn’t like me.” You tease between a bite and sip. “I’m an absolute delight to have around.”

Warrior laughs a little. It’s the most carefree you’ve seen him in a while. He’s spent the last three days worrying about this moment but here he is, laughing at almost every little thing you say. “Do you want to real answer or the one that keeps the conversation light?”

“Real answer.” You say, tipping your glass back. “Why do they all circle you like vultures?”

“Ah.” Warrior finishes off his food. “That would be why they wouldn’t like you. But to answer that question... I’m not entirely sure. I’m sure it has something to do with my hero status unfortunately. And my close ties to the crown.”

“And everything that comes with it?”

“More or less.”

“My condolences.”

“It’s a living.” Warrior shrugs, tipping his drink back as well. “I’ve gotten used to it. But I’m glad you’re here. Pretenses ignored.”

You hum and return to your spot on his arm. “Well for the night! We are to be wed in the imaginative future!”

You take his glass and sip the last drops, keeping eye contact with him. He visibly gulps, watching you with interest. You grin. “So we might as well enjoy ourselves.”

“Agreed.” Warrior takes the last bit of the food you had in your hand, tossing it into his mouth without a single care in the world. “We can start by getting decent meal.”

“Alright... but you owe me for taking my bite.”

“I’ll pay you back in actual rupees. Let’s go.”

Twilight

“Help me.”

Twilight had dragged you by the shoulders and had pulled you aside into a dark corner. It was so urgent and sudden and you had thought that he was in trouble or that he was in danger.

“What? What is it?” You gasps, smoothing out your clothes and his on instinct. “What’s happening?”

“Ok.” He gulps. “I’m being followed.”

“What?” You begin to glare.

“And she’s not taking no for an answer.” He winces. “I don’t want to be rude.”

“Twilight, honey, we talked about this.” You put your hand on your hips. “You can be rude if they’re not respecting your space-”

“Just-” Twilight cuts himself off. He sags onto himself and sighs pathetically, “...Help me. Please.”

You shake your head. “Alright, show me. Where is she?”

“She should be-”

“Oh here you are!” A chipper voice calls out. It sounds sweet enough to be syrup and yet significantly older than either of you. You finally understand the problem.

You try to mimic the joy behind the voice. “Oh hello! Are you looking for someone?”

She doesn’t seem to mind that you’re with Twilight, so there’s something else here. “I was looking for this nice man to help me with something.”

“Oh, what can my fiancé help you with?” You reply without missing a beat.

Something on Twilight’s face changes but you’ve stepped ahead of him to meet this woman head on. It’s just outside of your peripheral, but can’t make it out.

The woman sees it however and the chipper tone stops. “Oh... I see. Well I wondering if he would be able to help me with something by my house and there’s just no one else that seems to be able to help me.”

Twilight shifts behind you.

You tilts your head. You know this is a trap but it’s not meant for you. “Oh, ok. Well he’s a bit busy at the moment. We’re here with family but I can help you, ma’am. Where is it?”

She seems taken aback. “N-no. It’s quite heavy so I was hoping.”

“Well I am pretty strong.” You pulls back your sleeve and jokingly flex. “I can handle it, I’m sure.”

She seems even more off put. You refuse to give her what she wants. She eventually shakes her head. “I appreciate the offer but I don’t think it would work between the two of us.”

Interesting choice of words.

“I see.” You put your arm down. “Sorry about not being able to help you.”

She hums, giving Twilight another look. You step in front of her. “Is there anything else we can help you with?”

She bites back a smile. “When’s the wedding date?”

“We’re marrying in spring.” Twilight says softly. “But no set date yet.”

She hums again and nods. “Well then. Thank you. Have a good day.”

She walks away.

You gulp and take a step back, crashing into Twilight.

“You think fast.”

“I don’t like her.”

“I didn’t either. Let’s get out of here and find the others. Before she realizes she doesn’t care if I’m taken or not.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.”

Part 3

[babydollmarauders]

MEDIA MANAGEMENT — JACK HUGHES (23-24 SZN PART 19)

au masterlist

notes: this is late and short and i apologize for that! i’ve had such a busy few days

y/ndevils00

liked by nicohischier, dawson1417, and 462,921 others

y/ndevils00 WE WON!! WE ACTUALLY WON!!

i mean… yeah, it’s cool, we won.

with the return of my absolute favorite captain (sorry Quinnifer), the devilish whores won 7-2 against the swords!

we kicked off the scoring just a minute and a half into the first with a goal from Holtzy, and almost 10 minutes later, got a goal from uncle Toffee to give us a 2-0 lead!

but that’s not all! just 4 minutes later, captain slut got his first goal back!! GO NICOLAS!!! and in true boyfriends fashion, he acquired his first goal back the same way that Jacky did; on his first game back, in the first period of the game, with a goal that had to be confirmed by officials that it was a good goal! how utterly boyfriends of them! they definitely planned that!

and to end first period, we got yet another EVEN strength goal (no power play goals yet here!) from Pally Pocket!! giving us a FOUR goal lead on those bitches from buffalo!

in second period we got yet another goal from Tyler the creator, just 2 minutes in! bringing the score to 5-1! thank you, queen! and then the rest of that period was boring af

BUT THIRD PERIOD! OH I LOVED THIRD PERIOD! we opened that period and made it our bitch with a goal from MY best friend in the whole big wide world, Dawg-son Mercer!! EVERYBODY CHEER! WOOOOO!!! (with an assist from my lovely pain in the ass, babygirl!)

AND LASTLY, WITH OUR ONE AND ONLY POWER PLAY GOAL, WE HAVE MY (hopefully) FUTURE LITTLE BROTHER, LUKEY ‘SMUSH’ HUGHES!!! LET’S GO, BABY HUGHES!! SHOW ‘EM WHAT YOU’RE MADE OF!!

i’ll see you guys on tuesday after we play the long island iced teas!

tagged holtz_10, tofff73, nicohischier, pally_18, jackhughes, dawson1417, and lhughes_06

Load more comments

john.marino97 i don’t even get my own pic tonight?

y/ndevils00 i only have so many spots Jonathan! what am i supposed to do, you didn’t score a goal! do you want me to just take someone’s pic away to fit you in?!

john.marino97 1. not my name. 2. yes

y/ndevils00 NO! stop being greedy— jesus you’re like a stray cat, i feed you love once and you never leave me alone again

john.marino97 one could argue that you’re actually the stray cat

y/ndevils00 am i the one begging for your love right now? no!

john.marino97 i could post a photo of what you’re doing right now and it would suggest otherwise…

user29 what’s she doing right now?!

lhughes_06 @/user29 john is giving her a piggyback ride throughout the empty arena because she wouldn’t leave him alone

jackhughes how tf did you get the last picture from the press box?

y/ndevils00 ✨zoom✨

jackhughes well i need you to ✨zoom✨ out and stop camera stalking me while i’m on the bench. WATCH THE GAME.

y/ndevils00 don’t tell me what to do?

jackhughes you’re right, i’m sorry for telling you to do your job

y/ndevils00 you should be. thank you!

nicohischier you called me anything but my name

y/ndevils00 obviously? do you not see my gag here Nicole?

nicohischier i see it, i hate it, i ask you to do better

y/ndevils00 HEY DON’T TAKE MY LINE!

nicohischier too late. took it. made it my own.

y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes PUT YOUR BITCH ON A LEASH

jackhughes but you’re my bitch?

y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes take that back right now

jackhughes or what?

y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes or i’ll tell Sid?

jackhughes consider it unsaid 🫡

user01 NICO AND LUKE GOALS AND WE WON

user63 “bitches from buffalo” is how i’ll be referring to them now tysm

holtz_10 please leave me out of this

y/ndevils00 you’re part of the team, are you not? you’re briefly photographed and mentioned just shut up and say thank you

holtz_10 for what? you didn’t even congratulate me

john.marino97 bro, it’s not worth the fight, just say it

holtz_10 thank you?

y/ndevils00 you’re welcome, swedish meatball!

tofff73 thank you and you’re welcome, queen!

y/ndevils00 TAKE NOTES PEOPLE! THIS IS WHAT YOU DO!

dawson1417 you’ve been here for like 2 months and you already make the rest of us look bad, Toff

y/ndevils00 @/dawson1417 you could NEVER look bad to me, honey bun! the others, however, could use some work

lhughes_06 i’ll be your future brother if i have any say in it

jackhughes but you DON’T have any say in it?

y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes that’s what YOU think

jackhughes i- what does that even mean?

lhughes_06 @/jackhughes wouldn’t you like to know

jackhughes i’m pretty sure YOU don’t even know

lhughes_06 @/jackhughes you can’t prove that (i don’t)

dawson1417 CHEERING!! WOOOO!!! YAY ME!!

y/ndevils00 alright london tipton, let’s tone it down a little before somebody thinks you’re conceited

dawson1417 you’re right, sorry, GO TEAM!

y/ndevils00 there we go!! (we can cheer for just you off insta! nobody else matters!)

dawson1417 can we go out for drinks to celebrate me?

y/ndevils00 are you buying?

dawson1417 sure?

y/ndevils00 then ABSOLUTELY!!

user87 so are we just gonna breeze past “Pally pocket” … like polly pocket?

y/ndevils00 i liked to chew on the clothes <3

jackhughes i’m concerned for your well being

y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes you keep me sane 🥰

jackhughes well it’s a lot of work and i don’t think i’m doing a very good job