#but he gave them to her to keep because he didn't trust himself with them at that point and that's just... that's good. that's very good.

[lilahisntsadanymore]

Growing up with a deatheater father doesn't teach you much about emotions, so when Theo finds himself developing an infatuation with a muggle-born, he thinks she gave him a love potion.

Pairing: Theo Nott x granger!fem!reader

Words count: 1.9k

Warnings: jealous Harry

There is a 2nd part!! <3

≫ ──── ««•◦ ✪ ◦•»» ──── ≪

Unveiled Desires

It was strange to him. So strange how he went from mocking, annoying and occasionally bullying her every step she takes to secretly wanting her. Wanting to have her, or even needing her.

He didn't know how or when it happened, but one day he realized she was constantly in his head. It creeped up on him in small steps and eventually he had developed an infatuation for the girl.

Of course nobody knew about it, Theo wouldn't dare telling anyone. He just kept with his antics, hoping the obsession will somewhat disappear one day. Unfortunately, the more he tried to get rid of this feeling, the more he gave it power, the more it grew.

But he couldn't be with her. He couldn't be with a mudblood.

But he wanted to be with her. The more he thought about it, the less he cared about the blood status. He cursed at himself for these thoughts. Raised by a deatheater father, he would get disowned for dating anyone who wasn't a pureblood.

"Granger, can I talk to you for a second?" A question left his mouth as he approached the Golden Trio. Who was better to talk to about Y/n than her older sister?

The three Gryffindors looked at Theo as if he wasn't good in the head. Just casually wanting to have a chat, a normal chat, with someone outside of his social circle. Pretty unusual for a Slytherin.

"What is it?" Harry asked protectively.

"I was talking to Granger. I need to talk privately."

Hermione looked at Harry and Ron, exchanging suspecting glances. Eventually she spoke, "Alright, but make it quick."

"Great, let's go." Theo started walking, but Hermione stood in her place.

"Where are you going?"

"Somewhere they," he gestured to Harry and Ron, "aren't gonna eavesdrop."

Hermione crossed her arms on her chest, a knowing expression on her face.

Theo raised his hands, "It's not a trap again, I swear."

The girl sighed and walked after her rival.

Hermione and Theodore weren't fond of each other not only because of their houses and their blood statuses, but also because they were academic rivals. Both of them were extremely competitive. Since first year they aspired to be better than one another in pretty much everything.

"Can we stop already?" The girl asked. "I'm pretty sure they won't ear us from here."

"Alright, alright." Theo agreed. "But I need you to promise me you won't tell anybody about it."

"Why me? Why would you trust a Gryffindor with keeping a secret for you?"

Theo lowered his voice to a whisper, "Because it's about your sister."

"What?!" Hermione's voice was the opposite of a whisper. "What have you done to her?!"

The boy gestured telling her to lower her voice. "No, I didn't do anything. She has done...something."

"What on Earth could that possibly be?" A little more quiet, but still unpleasantly surprised, she decided to listen to him.

One last time, Theo looked around to make sure there's nobody there who could be a witness to what he was about to say.

"She used some spell on me." He accused. "Or put something in my food, my drink."

Hermione scoffed with laughter. "You must be joking. You bully her for whole five years, but one time she pays you back for it, it's an issue?"

"Not like that." He took a second to gather his thoughts. "Granger, do you remember how we learnt about amortentia few weeks ago? I think Y/n gave it to me."

Hermione started at the boy for a moment and then burst out with laughter. Y/n wasn't the issue, there was no way a fifth year would be able to make amortentia. Not even Y/n Granger.

Theodore felt annoyed and offended by Hermione's reaction. He looked at her with disgust. "What is so funny to you about it, mu-, Granger?"

Noticing how he almost called her a slur, her expression immediately became serious. "Seriously? You know what, deal with it by yourself. I don't even know why you're telling me all of this."

"Why? Because you have to talk to her, tell her to do something about it! Tell her to stop it!"

Hermione got a brilliant idea.

"You know, I've heard professor Slughorn had a remedy for amortentia."

"Yeah, and I'll end up in the hospital wing like Weasley."

"It was poisoned mead, not the amortentia cure itself. You can ask him to make one from the ingredients in the classroom."

"I will," Theo scoffed, "look at you being useful for the first time in your life."

Without another word, Hermione walked away. "Boys..." She muttered to herself.

"Don't tell anyone I told you this!"

≫ ──── ««•◦ ✪ ◦•»» ──── ≪

"What?! He likes me?!" Y/n asked with blush on her face. "Theodore Nott likes me? The boy that has been bullying me for the past five years?"

"And the thinks it's because you gave him amortentia." Hermione giggled.

Y/n wouldn't ever think that he could be into her and the whole story that her sister had told her was simply unbelievable. But Hermione had no business in lying to her very own little sister, especially not about that.

"Does anyone else know about this?"

"Not yet, but I talked him into asking Slughorn for the cure! I suppose he'll do this tomorrow after class, as soon as possible."

"Who are you and what have you done to my sister?"

The girls were sitting alone in the common room and as Y/n laughed, Ron and Harry walked in.

"What are you two laughing about?" Harry asked, ready to hear that story.

"Can I tell them?" Hermione looked at Y/n. The younger Granger nodded. "Nott likes Y/n."

The girls and Ron laughed, meanwhile Harry stood there with his lips in a thin line, far away from laughing.

"The best part is," Hermione continued, "he thinks Y/n gave him amortentia!"

"What?" Harry spoke eventually, his voice a bit more surprised than it should be. "Y/n, did you give amortentia to Nott?"

"No, why would you accuse me of this?!" The youngest girl defended herself. "Is it that unbelievable that he can fancy me?"

"I mean... You're a muggleborn... And-"

"And what?! Does that mean I'm not worthy of that? We don't know him, maybe he doesn't believe in this whole blood purity thing."

"He does. That's why he hasn't asked you out. And he never will. Because they're all the same."

Y/n's eyes became a little glossy, the tears ready to start flowing anytime. "Are they, though? And you're saying this. You, whose godfather was Sirius Black."

"Sirius was different!"

"We don't know because we don't know what Theo is like!"

"Theo? It was Nott for the past few years that he was tormenting you," Harry put an emphasis on the word bullying, "now he fancies you and he becomes Theo?"

"I would actually give him a chance. It's not his fault that he was born into a blood purity obsessed family."

"Don't you think that's a little pathetic? Running into his hands the moment you find out he might fancy you meanwhile you had chances to date...other Gryffindors."

"Pathetic? You call me pathetic?"

"I didn't call you pathetic, I said what you do is-"

A sound of a slap filled the room, but the following silence spoke even louder. Y/n looked Harry in the eyes, a light red mark on his cheek that her hand left.

Harry could see and sense that it was too much, he said unnecessary words. He regretted them, but he just couldn't stop them from coming out.

The Golden Trio watched Y/n run upstairs. She was so glad nobody else was in the bedroom yet.

≫ ──── ««•◦ ✪ ◦•»» ──── ≪

"Excuse me, professor," Theo walked up to Slughorn after the class on the following day.

All the other students were slowly exiting the room, Harry's eyes fixed on the Slytherin standing by the teacher's desk.

"Yes, Theodore?" Slughorn asked. "Do you have some more bright insights you'd like to share with me?" He was clearly happy to have this conversation.

"I actually need help, professor."

The man's expression dropped. "Yes? Do you have a problem?"

"I'm worried that I've been given amortentia."

Slughorn's eyes widened. He was surprised or even shocked. "Are you sure? I remember seeing other people under the influence of several love potions and you don't quite match the criteria."

"There's this girl who I can't stop thinking about... I suspect she has given it to me."

"Who that might be?"

Theo waited until all the other students exit the classroom before he said the name.

"Y/n Granger."

Y/n stopped in her tracks just as he was about to enter the potions classroom. She was about to show the teacher a part of her project, wanting to consult the texts she has written. Instead, she stopped and decided to listen to the conversation.

"Ah, she's one of the best students in her year," Slughorn said proudly, "but I assure you - she wouldn't do that to you."

"How can you be sure, professor?"

"Well, could you describe your symptoms, Theodore?"

"Whatever I do, Y/n is on my mind," the boy admitted, "I can't eat, I can't sleep, I zone out thinking about her. It's not normal, I've never experienced it before."

The teacher gave his student a sympathetic smile. "My dear boy, you might be experiencing the actual feeling of being in love."

"What? And how could it have been caused? Was it a love potion, after all? Maybe a spell?"

"It's a part of muggle science, biology. The chemicals in your brain cause it and it's not something you can control. It happens when it happens. A truly beautiful feeling."

Theo's mouth twisted into a dissatisfied grimace. "Is there anything I can do about it?"

"You can talk to the girl about it, for example," Slughorn looked at the door and shouted, "come in, Y/n!"

Y/n cursed to herself in her thoughts. How could he know she was there?

The girl walked in shyly, holding a paper in her hands. "I wanted to show you my paper, professor," the girl spoke, "if there's anything you think I should change or... anything."

As the girl handed the paper to the teacher, she looked at Theo. They stood dangerously close to each other. The silence between the was so loud, Y/n was praying for the teacher to say something. Anything.

"Amazing, Mrs Granger," he spoke eventually, "although the Draught of Living Dead is an extremely difficult potion to make. I'm glad you're so ambitious, but I'd suggest you get help from someone more experienced."

"I'm pretty sure I can do it on my own." Y/n assured.

"Maybe Mr. Nott here could help you. The sixth year has been just learning about this potion, actually. Theodore, would you be so kind and help Mrs Granger?"

Suddenly, Theo's gaze somewhat softened. There was no more disgust in his eyes. When he stood so close to Y/n, he wondered why did he act the way he did. Why did he do all the mean things to her. Maybe he had always liked her, but didn't want to admit it, even to himself alone.

"Yes, sure," he said, "I can help."

Y/n felt happy. For some reason, she didn't dislike Theo for all the things he did. She secretly always liked him, he was attractive, and she would even sometimes daydream about the day he would finally talk to her like a normal person. Maybe the day has finally come.

[markster666]

Alas I have fallen for the radio demon! He is perfection and so is your writing! I’m sure you’ve got a lot of requests but I was hoping you could do an Alastor X fem! reader where she likes pulling/gripping his hair while he *ahem* breeds her? Her kink is bearing his demon spawns! = u =

Mmmm gotta love the Radio Demon! Saw this request at work and was like "I'm immediately writing this when I get home" sooo here we are! Thank you so much for your request and hope this is what you were looking for. Lots of love.

ALASTOR THE RADIO DEMON X READER (SMUT/18+) - Breeding B*tch

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader

Tags: Shameless Smut, 18+, Breeding, Hair pulling, Porn without much Plot, Pet kink, Pet play, Impregnation kink, etc.

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Word Count: 878

A/N: Thank you so much to @lingeringherealways for taking time out of your day to put in this request and trust me with it! I absolutely adored this prompt the second I read it and had to write it out before I head to bed. Unedited, so apologies for any spelling mistakes. Requests are open.

The entire Hazbin crew (except for you and Alastor) decided to go on an outing. Charlie wanted to try and recruit sinners on the streets and offer them refuge in return for possible redemption. She invited you and Alastor to come along, albeit last minute, you both declined respectfully as somebody had to keep watch over the hotel while they were away. Alastor could easily do it by himself, sure, but you were burdened with the thought of sleep. As soon as they left, you slumped onto the lobby couch and shut your eyes.

Alastor waltzed into the room, his microphone staff hitting the ground with a thud every step he took. You opened one of your eyes to get a look at him, only to see he made his way to the edge of the couch, staring right at you with the same, expressionless wide-grinned look he masked all the time.

"Everything alright, Alastor?"

"Mmm, may I speak to you my Dear?"

You groaned and sat up lazily, rubbing your eyes.

"It's kind of a bad time, I'm half asleep."

His ears furrowed back and he sat at the edge of the couch, making sure to keep a good few feet of distance between you two. You could feel his demeanor shift promptly as he started speaking,

"Ah, yes, well, I'll make it quick. You see, I've been having this insatiable urge to... um... how do I speak of this-"

You raised your eyebrow as you waited for him to continue.

He sighed.

"I need to breed."

Your eyes widen in shock. Of course, you knew he was an animal and it would make sense as to WHY he had these desires but...

"And... why are you telling me this?"

He laughed.

"Hah hah hah! Because I want to breed YOU my Dear."

You stare at him open mouthed, unable to process what he just said. You have had fantasies about him for awhile, sure, but never in a million years did you ever expect it to finally be happening.

"O-Okay Alastor, but only this ONE time-"

He cut you off as soon as you gave him full permission to do what he wanted. He set his microphone down and pounced on you, his tall figure covering your entire body.

"Mmm, thank you my Dear, but I don't think one time is going to be enough for that pretty little body of yours."

You were about to say something before he crashed his lips down onto yours, forcing your mouth open with his tongue and intertwining it with yours. You moaned into his mouth as he tore open your clothes in a couple fluid motions. He stopped kissing you as he ran a finger in between your folds.

"My my! Look how wet you are! Oh how I've been CRAVING to ravish you. I hope you don't expect me to take my time."

He quickly undid his pants zipper before instantly slipping his length inside of you, his ears pinned to the sides of his head trying to hold back grunts of ectasy. You were whining, going non-verbal from how full you felt. Every time he thrusted, it felt like you hit a new stage of bliss, and suddenly you didn't care about redemption into Heaven.

You were already in it.

He gripped your hair and held you close to his body, his face burrowed in your neck and shoulder crease as he aggressively, yet sloppily thrusted into you. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and your legs around his waist so he could thrust as deep as he could.

He finally let his pleasure take control and started grunting animalistically. He was nipping at your collarbone and squeezing you into him as hard as he could, sweat being combined between your two intertwined bodies as the heat filled the space.

"You feel so gooood, you truly are a BITCH in heat. Let me hear more of those pretty little sounds of yours, Love."

He whispered into your ear before kissing your jawline quickly, smiling against your neck. Your eyes rolled back in pure pleasure and you could not contain your mews.

Your hands moved up to his hair, gripping it very aggressively out of pure passion and need.

"P-Please, Alastor, breed me. Impregnate me. I want you to mark my womb with your seed. Please-"

You senselessly babbled into thin air, gripping his hair harder and tightening your legs around his waist.

"Your begging is music to my ears! As you wish, Dear, stay still for me."

His thrusts quickened in pace before becoming sporadic. He finally unleashed all of his seed into you, making sure his cock was as deep inside of you as it could go. You were a panting mess, slowly loosening your grip on his hair, and he was making a bunch of radio static, also trying to catch his breath.

After a bit, he pulled out slowly and watched as his cum dripped out of you. His smile widened,

"Make sure you lay like that for awhile, Love, to make sure it all stays in."

You didn't ever want to move again. Everything was just bliss in that moment.

"Oh, and by the way my Dear, this will not be a one time thing. Expect it frequently!"

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

A/N: Thank you so much for everybody who has read! Your support means the world to me. If you didn't know, I will be participating in Kinktober (except in February lol) with some pretty smutty prompts starting February 1st and going on all month, so if you like my writing and want some more Alastor x reader smuts, please consider following. Lots of love.

[crimsonfeatheredraven]

I can't help but to think that one of the major, core things about Jason Todd is that he loves people more than they love him, or at least he loves people that can't show him that they love him in specific ways.

Bruce: accused him of murder at the age of 15 and didn't believe him when he said he didn't do it, didn't notice that he left the country (I could be wrong, but I'm pretty sure that was the case), put up the case™ calling Jason a 'good soldier', shit talked Jason and blamed him for his death after Tim and the others came into the picture, threw a batarang at Jason's throat and left him to bleed out in the rubble, dragged Jason to the site of his murder instead of asking him how he got back like a normal human being, beat the shit out of Jason and kicked him out of his home city after Jay 'shot' Penguin instead of using his words and asking Jason why, didn't apologize but simply justified his actions as Jason needing to be smacked around once in a while, Gotham...War. He says that he loves Jason but still did these things and Jason still goes back to him after rocking his shit a little.

Alfred: apparently also shit talked Jason after mourning for a bit. Also, I'm pretty sure that I read somewhere that he's the one who came up with the 'A Good Soldier ' plaque. Jason would still do anything for him.

Sh*ila: saw this 5'3 kid who placed his complete trust in her and wanted to help her to the best of his ability and almost eagerly led him like a lamb to the slaughter to gain an advantage, smoked with watching him get beat with a crowbar, only gave a shit about her actions when it was her turn to find out. Jason tried to protect her from the blast.

I can't really blame Catherine for anything because she was sick and it is what it is. It sucks ass and it's shit but what could have anyone really done?

He looked up to Barbara and one of the first things that she said to him was that he'll never be Dick Grayson.

The point is that it seems like he gives too much of himself to people or hold them in high regard and they either leave him because of extenuating circumstances, die, or decide to go, "fuck you, specifically".

He's been failed by almost every single parent he's ever had and he keeps going back to them. Any other relationship turns to dust at his fingertips. He's like the opposite of King Midas. His story is a tragedy and I love him so much.

[moon-rivr]

still beating

pairing: miguel o’hara x fem reader

contents: cheating, pregnancy, mention of abortion, brief mention of sex, asshole mig, and angst

author’s note: i had the urge to write some angst but i’ll be getting back to requests after this one. idk if i wanna make a second part yet 😭

word count: 4.1K

You felt your heart wrench in your chest, the pieces slowly starting to shatter when you opened the door to see Miguel with another woman in your bed. The container of cookies that you'd been planning on surprising him with fell to the floor, crumbs clattering all over the floor beneath your feet. All you could do was just stare in horror as the man who claimed he loved you thrusted into another woman with a newfound vigor that he never seemed to have with you.

You looked over at the woman bouncing on his cock like there's no tomorrow, your eyes widening at the realization of who she was. She was one of the recruits who'd been too flirty with your man, batting her lashes and trailing her hand up his arm every time he was in her vicinity. You'd expressed your concerns to him, getting pushed away with a laugh and a kiss on the cheek. "Come on, she's just an apprentice. Tu sabes que nomas tengo ojos para ti," he used to tell you and you willingly believed the words. (you know i only have eyes for you)

The first time that you noticed him acting weirdly was in a mission against one of the vulture variants, taking the extra time to make sure that she was doing okay. He'd helped her in a way that he'd never helped other recruits, not even you when you were starting out. He spoke to her in a reassuring manner, assuring her that the fate of the multiverse didn't lie solely on her mistakes. It was a clear contrast from the way that he used to teach you, telling you that your mistakes could cost the lives of thousands and even ruin the delicate equilibrium between the universes. You wanted to assure yourself that you were being jealous just because of the way that you acquired a relationship with him, but you couldn't help but notice the longing glances that she gave him.

"Miguel, I don't trust that recruit. She looks at you like a love sick puppy," you told him, hoping that he would take your feelings into consideration and create some distance between them. “You're overreacting, mi amor. You know that there's nobody that could make me feel the same way that you did. I even left my ex-girlfriend for you, so why do you think that I would give that up?" He responded, holding your chin in his grasp as he gave you a kiss on the cheek. "Are you even listening to me? I’m not saying that i'm worried about you, I'm just worried about the way that she keeps looking at you," you tried to elaborate but he simply ordered you to get back to work.

You could see the way that she dumbed herself down to receive more help from Miguel, shooting a wink in your direction every time that she managed to pry him away from you. You felt powerless, unable to prove the fact that the woman was obviously feeling an amount of attraction towards Miguel. Even if you could prove it, you weren't too sure that he would even care about how you felt towards the situation. So you simply pushed every red flag that came your way, silently hoping that she wouldn't be stupid to try anything with him. You could see the carefully crafted walls he'd built around himself crumbling with every giggle that came out of her mouth, your hopes only slowing down what seemed to be the inevitable.

The conversation of cheating had come up once between your friend group, and in between laughter, you stated that you would simply beat both his and her ass for even thinking about doing that. All you could do now though, was stare in horror as the woman's walls clenched around your boyfriend every time that she moved up and down his cock. "Are you gonna stare or are you gonna join us?" The high pitched moan of the girl and Miguel's words snapped you from your thoughts, your face void from any expression. While you were planning on taking your misery out on a pint of Ben and Jerry's ice cream later on, you refused to let them see how much it affected you.

"Why would you do this to me?" You asked him, completely dumbfounded at the events taking place. You hated the way that your voice sounded, so small and broken, expecting yourself to let your anger seep through with every word uttered. "You led me to this situation. Been denying me for so long that I had to take manners into my own hands," he responded, his thrusts halting to a stop once he took the chance to look at you. You let out a small scoff, surprised by the amount of audacity he held despite the fact he'd just been caught having an indiscretion. "I led you to this? You cannot be serious right now."

He tapped the woman's leg, getting her off him as she reached over to cover herself with no shame in her expression. "Look baby, I can forgive you denying me the opportunity to have sex with you if you're willing to forget about this little.. incident," he told you, standing up and taking your chin so you'd look up at him. You couldn't help it though, the moment that you looked into his eyes, you no longer saw the man that you'd once fallen in love with but instead the expression of pleasure that was contorted on his face when you stepped in. "Forgive me? Did you hit your head standing up? I don't want anything to do with you."

"I was the best thing that ever happened to you, don't delude yourself into thinking otherwise. Give it a second thought, nena. You know you can't find someone like me anymore," you heard behind you while your hand lingered on the doorknob, about to exit the scene. "Think about it clearly. Who do you think is going to love you the same way that I did?" He added salt to the injury, painting you as someone unlovable. "Now you're being the delusional one for thinking that I want to find someone like you ever again," you responded, shutting the door with more force than necessary on your way out. You heard a loud groan behind you, the scuffling sounds of clothes being tossed around.

A part of you selfishly longed that he would come chase after you, get on his knees and beg for your forgiveness so you waited outside to see if the door would open. You weren't sure if you were expecting an apology for being taken like a fool or for the act that had taken place, but that didn't stop you from wanting him to tell you that he was sorry. The door remained locked, the volume of the moans rising in intensity like they knew you were still out there. Rain started to pour but as much as you wanted to move, your feet remained stuck in the ground like cement. You just wanted him to say the words 'I'm sorry' but the only thing that you received standing there was hearing him say, "Ay Dios, such a good pussy. Unlike anything I've had before."

Only when you were across the street from his house is that you allowed yourself the opportunity to cry, for everything that you longed for and would never obtain again. You couldn't help but blame yourself the slightest bit, for wanting to trust the words of a renowned cheater so badly. Even though your relationship with him essentially started the same way, going from being a fresh recruit at the spider society to snaking your way under Miguel's bedsheets every time you got the chance. The excitement of getting caught by his girlfriend at the time was too much for you to want to stop the affair the two of you were in, and you couldn't help but fall in love with him with every caress and whisper he shared with you.

You wanted to believe so badly that he was right, that you weren't anything like any of his previous girlfriends and that you were something special to him. It was one of the reasons that you forced yourself to be that exciting new prospect for miguel, pushing yourself past your limits just for the sake of keeping him interested in you. And now you had nothing to prove for the fact that you'd been with him apart from the pregnancy test in the pocket of your hoodie. You'd gone over to his place to tell him that you were pregnant, the frosting on the cookies that you were wielding spelling out the words.

As you got back home, you couldn't help the thoughts that were tormenting your brain since you'd left. You started doing a re-run of the relationship that you had with Miguel, starting to wonder where it was that it all went wrong. What he said was true, you had been denying him sex for a while now but you'd been so tired coming back from missions lately. There'd been a surplus of anomalies to deal with, the numbers only starting to decrease today. You'd hoped that he would be understanding since he was the one who was assigning these missions, but the hope was short lived.

You tried to think about the events that led up to this, trying to look at things from a normal perspective rather than the rose-colored perspective you were happily living in. You noticed him acting a bit strangely, but you'd dismissed it due to him being stressed with the vast quantities of anomalies that he had to deal with. You remembered offering him a blowjob a week ago while on a phone call, wanting to spend some time with him at his office before the two of you got too busy. He'd rejected your offer, light giggles coming from the distance. You realized that they were having fun at your expense, having gone through with the affair at least for a week now.

Entering your apartment felt like a stab in your heart since you'd lit up a candle that he'd taken a liking to before you left, the lingering aroma only providing you with memories of the relationship. Your sheets still weirdly smelled like remnants of his cologne, the smell of his shampoo lingering onto the pillow next to yours. As much as you tried not to think about him too much, every single thing in your apartment only reminded you and the relationship. Even the clothes in your closet were mixed around with his, the scent of his body wash from when he'd stayed over sticking to your clothes.

Showing up to work the next day felt more of an obligation that something that you used to look forward to, stares from your fellow spiders following you throughout the building. You'd done your best to ignore them when you were starting out with Miguel, ignoring their glares and their whispered voices as they called you a 'homewrecker.' Now that you didn't have Miguel's reassuring presence, you were solely depending on your ability to be able to ignore them. They all stared at you the same way that you felt, like a toy that had just finished fulfilling its use and was now tossed off to the side.

You weren't sure if it was the morning sickness or the fact that the recruit had her hand wrapped around Miguel's arm as he started to give the report on what to do today but just the mere sight of it had you wanting to throw up. Your eyes locked with Miguel, a small flash of guilt appearing on his features before his face contorted back to its normal state. You almost wanted to roll your eyes as the recruit batted her lashes up at him, staring at him like he held all the answers but you were pretty certain that you used to look at him the same way. Some of the other spider recruits turned to look at you at the sight and you could only wish that the earth would swallow you alive.

Coming back from your mission didn't provide you with the comfort that you'd needed, your forehead bleeding from a small gash that you'd gotten fighting. You'd been so focused on other aspects of your life to notice the piece of rubble that was aimed straight for your head. Luckily enough, one of the many Peters was present to warn you about it and the piece only managed to scratch you up slightly. You sat down at the nurse's table, noticing her eyes widen slightly at the sight of you but she quickly suppressed the surprise on her face. She applied some alcohol on the wound and cleaned it up, trusting your healing to do the rest.

You walked down the halls of the society to go to the cafeteria, having a bit of a craving for a burger. Seeing Miguel walking on the other side of the hall made you hold a breath, your footsteps getting faster. You figured that you were getting these dirty looks because they wouldn't dare do to that their boss, but the admiration on the rest of the spiders' face was starting to get ridiculous. "Miguellll, hi baby!" The woman from earlier announced, slotting herself next to him. You felt tears starting to sting when you saw him wrap his arm around her shoulders, holding her close the same way that he used to do to you.

The thoughts of having an abortion circulated through your brain while you sat alone, angrily biting into the burger with Miguel's face on it. While you doubted the ability of actually being able to go through this pregnancy by yourself, the thought of getting rid of the fetus just seemed too drastic to actually go through. Or at least, that was what you established as the main reason behind continuing with the pregnancy. The truth was, that despite everything that Miguel had done to you, you couldn't help but want a small piece of him with you. The idea of even having the slightest bit of him reflected on the baby was just enough for you to push those thoughts away.

You felt dirty sitting down on the floors of the bathroom, your head buried into your hands as you stifled the sobs threatening to come out through your throat. You looked up when someone knocked on the door, wiping away the tears dripping down your cheeks as you stood up. “I didn't mean to disturb but I was just wondering if you were okay," Gwen told you, standing there awkwardly with her hands in her pocket. You'd never focused too much on trying to build a relationship with any of your co-workers, stuck in the belief that you didn't care what anyone thought about you as long as you had Miguel so you appreciated the bit of kindness that she had to share.

"Not really," you offered, wiping your face so as to not appear too disheveled in front of her. "Would you like to talk about it?" She then asked you, looking a bit uncomfortable to be stuck playing therapist. Lucky for her, you didn't feel like explaining that the reason that you felt so upset was that your boyfriend had cheated on you. "Not really," you repeated, rubbing the back of your head awkwardly as another Spider-Woman came into the bathroom. You'd expected Gwen to walk off after that but the girl simply looked at you with understanding, realizing that you couldn't put the way that you were feeling into words yet. "Me and Hobie were actually about to go practice guitar for a little while, but there's a drum kit if you want to try that out."

Hitting a drum until most of your frustrations faded away seemed like a healthier coping mechanism than your usual ones, so you agreed and went with Gwen into her dimension. Gwen and Hobie had left to a secluded area to practice their guitar in peace, leaving you alone with your thoughts and sticks in your hands. While the sounds that were being elicited by your fury weren't exactly melodic, the drum certainly provided you with a feeling of peace with every smack that you took. The sounds of the strings of the guitar melted in with the off pitch sound of the drums, the sound of chaos weirdly providing you with the relief that you needed.

You'd been hitting the drums for what seemed to be forever, losing yourself into the adrenaline that was coursing through your veins when Gwen stepped in through the door. "Sorry to disturb your sesh, it seemed like you were really getting it on in there but we have to head back. Something about a mission, you okay to get back on your own?" Gwen asked you, standing by the doorframe as she peeked her head into the room. "I think I'll stay for a little while, but thank you for offering. I appreciate you for letting me crash here," you responded, stopping so she could hear you properly. After a couple minutes that Gwen had left, you departed as well since you'd felt that you'd gotten the relief that you needed.

You tried your best to get yourself to hate him, burning his clothes and ripping every photograph of the two of you but no matter how much you tried, you couldn't get yourself to hate him. It'd be easier for yourself if you could, because hating him seemed like the better alternative than loving him to the point it was starting to hurt you. But the truth was, that even if you could've predicted what happened between the both of you, you're not too sure that you would do anything different regardless. While you despised feeling like a discarded piece of trash, the amount of happiness that he provided you for the time he did was too euphoric for you to give up.

You were planning on just to relax after finishing up with the task of getting rid of his stuff, a knock on your door putting all your plan to a halt. You opened the door to see Miguel standing there, his arms folded across his chest with an uncomfortable expression. "Come in," you mumbled, stepping back and opening the door wider so he could come in. You figured that you were at least due for an explanation so you were willing to open the door just to get the closure that your poor heart needed. He came into the house, maneuvering his way the same way he used to do. You stood at the door in a bit of shock, closing the door and standing at a distance from him.

"I wanted to come here and apologize to you. I shouldn't have cheated on you and i'm deeply sorry for any hurt that I might've caused you," he spoke up after a couple seconds, his apology sounding like something rehearsed. You stayed quiet, gesturing for him to continue as you let the words seep in. "And for the way that I talked to you, it wasn't right of me to disrespect you. I don't know what you want me to say though, you knew that I was a cheater when I first met you and even if I wanted to stop, I can't," he added, his figure looming over yours in the small apartment. You couldn't help the small scoff that escaped from your throat once he finished talking.

"You couldn't stop your cheating tendencies just because you're wired that way, are you serious?" You asked him, your voice slightly raising as you walked closer. "I should've known that chasing a relationship with you would've ended the same way as always and I'm sorry. You were always too good to me," he responded, looking everywhere in the room except for your face. "No, you don't get to do this. You don't get to come into my house and paint yourself as the victim. Take some accountability for once in your damn life!" You screamed at him, unable to keep the rage brewing inside of you at bay.

"Fine, you want me to take accountability? The truth is that I got bored. I got bored in the same monotony that we were living in and I sought out for that type of excitement that you'd given me when we started out. There was nothing wrong with you, nothing wrong with you denying me sex either. It was just me needing to do something stupid and reckless," he spoke up after a while, finally looking at you in the eye. You let out a small sigh of relief, finding some solace in the fact that he was finally being honest with you without using any manipulation tactics. "You could've communicated that with me, y'know? We could've worked something out."

Miguel took a deep breath, almost like he hadn't given any thought to the alternative solutions available. "I took the easy out and I'm sorry for that. I also wanted to detach myself from you, I didn't want any interference in what your canon event would be," he added, making you lose all hope for the progress that the two of you had made so far. You knew how much he prioritized the maintaining of the canon, but you weren't expecting for him to use it to justify his cheating. "You can't be serious right now. I don't want you to excuse your cheating. I just want you to give me an explanation," you told him, speaking much quieter than last time.

"There is no other explanation apart from the fact that I was just simply bored and she provided me with the relief that I was seeking. Truth is, I can't even stand her that much. If I could've guessed that it would hurt you this badly, I wouldn't have bothered to do it," he played with his hands as he spoke, seemingly nervous. "Guess it was my form of karma," you muttered, a dry chuckle eliciting from your throat as you looked away. "Mira, I know that nothing I do is going to remove the fact that I cheated on you. But I do want you to give me another chance, please. I promise that we could make this work this time, I promise that if I try hard enough I could fall in love with you again," he told you, the words making your eyes widen.

It felt futile trying to deny yourself that Miguel had given you a new experience to relationships, allowing you to lose yourself in him and the time that you spent together. But the more that you thought about it, the more that you realized that you couldn't go back to him no matter how much you wanted to. You craved the intimacy that he once had given you, but even as you looked at him now, you couldn't stop picturing the woman that'd been on top of him just a couple days prior. The decision wasn't made for your sake, more so for the sake of the way that this turbulent relationship would affect the unborn child.

"I never had to try to love you, Miguel," you simply told him, your heart shattering even more with every second that passed. "I'm sorry but I can't do that. I’ll always appreciate everything that you showed me and everything that you did for me, and I'll always love you at some degree even if I try not to. But I can't be in a relationship with you now," you added, seeing his expression darken a bit at being rejected. "I'm not asking for you to be in a relationship with you, but I am asking you to give you a chance. Please, te lo suplico," he told you, getting on his knees as he held your hands in between his. (i beg of you) He leaned in his head towards your stomach, looking at you with such a vulnerability in his eyes. It took you a lot of self-restraint to be able to deny him, especially when he put himself in this position. "Please just go."

After he left your apartment, you felt a sort of weight lift up from your shoulders at the relief that things had gone moderately well between the two of you given the circumstances. As much as you wanted to get back into the dating world to help you get over the love that remained for Miguel, you knew deep down that you would only be dating solely to replicate the feelings that you experienced with him. The fact that he told you that he could love you if he tried hard enough stuck with you, your hands gripping around the teddy bear you were holding with more force. But despite the short lived anger that you'd felt towards him, you felt some peace knowing his reasoning for the indiscretion wasn’t out of spite for you.

[leclercss]

Paris, je t'aime (Charles Leclerc),

a Tainted Love sequel

Masterlist

plot: it's almost three years since your tumultuous relationships with Lewis and Charles came crashing down. but you find your self in a new city with new beginnings and new ways to fuck up your love life. that's no thanks to a cheeky frenchman who's set you up on a double date with someone oh so familiar.

pairings: charles leclerc x fem!reader

warnings: (+18) mentions of smut, cheating and some swearing

authors note: our amours are back. hope you enjoy this sequel featuring our fave Monegasque.

word count: 4.3k

taglist: @toppersjeep @janeholt3, @princess-siba, @nichmeddar

"Pierre, I just don't get why you can't show me his picture?" you whine, throwing your head back against the sofa. Clearly you need to work on your negotiation (or blackmailing) skills because you've not made a dent in changing Pierre's mind.

"Because, [Y/N], I don't trust you this time. I've seen your love life, if you can even call it that, in the last six months. It's nothing short of embarrassing and from what I've witnessed, I know who the problem is," Pierre retorts.

You snort at Pierre's response. This man doesn't given a fuck and you do your best to not throw a cushion at his face.

"And what do you mean by that?"

"What I mean, [Y/N], is I've seen you make out with random guys in clubs, ugly ones by the way, who you either sleep with or have to spend the rest of the night hiding from. You're also useless when it comes to Tinder. You either fall in love with their pictures, match, have about a two minute conversation with and then ghost them entirely or you spend five minutes analysing everything that is wrong with them."

"That's no true," you growl.

It's Pierre's turn to snort. "Oh, it is! And if you do end up chatting to someone half normal, you just get drunk and show them pictures of your ex husband's dog".

This time you couldn't control yourself and so you launch the cushion at Pierre's head. Your aim clearly needs some work as you miss his head by about half a meter and hit the lamp above his head, causing it to hit against the wall.

"Right, you two! That's enough," you hear a voice yell from the other room. You look over your shoulder and see Pierre's girlfriend, Kika, storm into the living room.

"He started it," you cry out before shooting Pierre some daggers which earns a kick from Pierre.

"I don't care who started it. I care about ending it," Kika growls as she throws herself onto the sofa opposite then one you and Pierre are occupying.

Silence falls onto the living room but only for a few moments before you look at Pierre again, continuing your previous argument. "Pierre, I don't get why you can't just tell me anything about him".

Pierre, aware of the daggers he's receiving from Kika, simply rolls his eyes.

"Ugh, fine! Kika, can you please talk to Pierre?" you plead as you turn your attention to Kika.

She sighs at you, defeated. "I've tried, [Y/N]," she replies. "But Pierre has made some good points".

You narrow your eyes at her, "Traitor."

Pierre can't keep contain himself as he erupts into a fit of laughter. Annoyed, you return the kick that he gave you earlier which results in a loud cry from Pierre.

"Hey! We're the ones trying to help you out here," Pierre laughs as he rubs his shin, tender from your kick.

"I didn't ask for your help," you grunt, throwing you arms across your chest in frustration. You catch Kika in the corner of your eye trying to hold back a smirk.

"Spit it out, Kika!"

Both Pierre and Kika look at each other, exchanging a little chuckle, before you friend gives you a polite reality check.

"Well, we're in Paris, the city of love. And well, your love life since we've met you has been, putting it nicely, tragic. So Pierre and I thought that as your friends in this new city, we would take the trouble out of your hands for you when it comes to love," she politely tells you.

Pierre snorts again, "Nah, Kika. It's called an intervention".

You look around you to find any other cushions you can throw at Pierre but realise that you've thrown all cushions within reaching distance at his head already.

The truth is that, as hurtful as it may be, Pierre and Kika were right. Your love life since moving to Paris ten months ago has been pathetic. In fact, it's been pathetic for the last three years, ever since you had ended both your marriage to Lewis and your relationship with Charles.

Your intention at the time was to only end your relationship with one of them and in your heart and mind, you were going to end your marriage with Lewis. And that was what you did. Despite his last ditch attempts of rekindling your marriage and relationship, you had declined Lewis' offer to leave your life in London behind and join him in New York City.

An offer like that earlier on in your marriage would have been tempting but after yourself and Lewis both agreed to open up your marriage, and before all of the walls came tumbling down, you realised that whenever Lewis was close to losing you he would pull out all of the stops to become the husband you wanted and needed.

He'd done it throughout your relationship. Once Lewis smelt danger or felt vulnerable, he loved bombed you to the point where you fell in love with him all over again. Telling you everything you needed to hear and throwing you grand gestures like a proposal, a new puppy, extravagant gifts, monogamy (looking back, that one was laughable) and finally offering you a new life in the bright lights of New York City. And when he was sure that you wouldn't leave him and were fully committed, he'd go back to the Lewis of old - doing as he pleased without any questions or consequences. That was until Lewis pushed you too far, he'd tested you one too many times during your "open marriage" and pushed you into the arms of another man, Charles.

In a totally unplanned and spontaneous night out, you had met Charles and the two of you had clicked instantly. Charles was the only person that ever led you to doubt your marriage and relationship with Lewis. You developed a relationship which led to you falling in love with one another. It was very real and very serious. He gave you the love and fulfilment you had long yearned for. He was worth leaving your husband for and you were so ready to do that.

That was until Lewis' offer of moving to New York came about. You didn't want to move to New York. It may have been a dream once but not in those circumstances. Not after you'd already taken off your wedding and engagement rings and told your husband you were ready to move on in your life. This was Lewis' next step in life, not yours.

You were free from your marriage and you could continue your relationship with Charles but something weird happened. It all fell apart one night when you went to see Charles at his flat after you had told Lewis that you wouldn't be moving with him. Your intentions were to tell Charles that you were all his and you could finally start to build a real life together.

However, that’s not what happened. You couldn’t get the idea of leaving London with Lewis out of your head. Even in separation the man couldn’t leave you alone. He was in your mind as you spoke to Charles, kissed Charles and even when you made love to Charles that night. Something deep down was telling you that instantly starting a life with Charles just days after separating from your husband of five years wasn’t the right thing for you.

You needed time to mourn your marriage but also to figure out who you really were. You had been in a relationship since you had moved to London at 21 and had never gotten to explore adulthood and your twenties on your own. And just maybe, you needed a little bit of time to be you.

But that’s not how it went down, or how you had tried to communicate it to Charles. After you and Charles had finished having sex, Charles started a conversation about your relationship and mentioned the possibility of moving in together. You guys were in love and it made sense.

But you freaked out, confessing to Charles that Lewis was going to New York and had asked for you to go with him. And when Charles had asked you want you had wanted to do, you froze.

Fuck, why did you have to freeze? You already told Lewis no but why couldn’t you tell Charles that?

You realised over time it was because that you were unable to tell Charles that while you had said no to Lewis, you needed to be on your own for a while. And how could you tell Charles that after he had made love to you and confessed his loved to you once more?

And so when you struggled to find your words, Charles took it as a yes and that in fact you were moving to New York, leaving him behind. You were ending things with him to be with a husband who treated you poorly.

And when you did begin to find your words, Charles didn’t believe you despite the fact that you had already removing your wedding ring. He was fed up. He’d been humiliated by you and Lewis to one too many times and so he asked for you to leave.

You obeyed and left his apartment. Too hurt and stubborn to speak to one another, you both waited for the other to reach out. A text, a call, something to let the other know that this was stupid and you wanted to be together. But that text, call or something never came. And so you and Charles never spoke again.

Not long after you and Charles ended things, a position in work opened up in Singapore. With nothing meaningful thing you to London any more aside from your best friend Whitney, you applied for it. You were successful and so within a few moments you moved to Singapore for two years.

You finally got your new life and spent the last of your twenties in an amazing city. You even had a few casual, no strings attached situationships. But as you turned 30, you began to miss being closer to home and so you moved back to Europe, this time settling in Paris.

You enjoyed the city and while Paris was famed for being romantic and the city of love, your experience so far had been anything but. Which is why you were here now, letting your new friends Pierre and Kika salvage whatever love life they could manage for you.

You had grown close to them over the past few months. You had met Kika in work and over time she took you under her wing. You hadn’t told Pierre and Kika everything though about your life in London. They knew you were divorced from Lewis and that you had an open marriage got wrong but you had never told them about Charles. How could you even begin to explain that you had fallen in love with someone that wasn’t your husband and then, when you finally had the chance to be with him, you chickened?

No, you couldn’t tell them about Charles. It still hurt you when you thought about how things ended between you. With a heavy heart, you still valued your relationship with him and looked back with fond memories. Charles was still very special and important to you. And so, that was one story you wanted to keep close to your heart.

“Can you just give me a name? Not even a name, just the first letter of his name?”

You were back to whining at Pierre and Kika, begging for any details about this mystery guy that they’d set you up on a blind date with. So far, the only details you had gotten out of them was that you were going out with a guy this Friday night.

As Kika went to open her mouth, feeling a little sorry for you, Pierre flashed her a look.

“Kika, don’t! I know what you girls are like. One sniff of a detail about a man and you girls give the FBI a run of their money, Pierre cried. “No, you’re just going to have to shut up and wait until Friday to meet him”.

Finally accepting defeat, you sighed and rested back against the sofa. Pierre wasn’t giving in this time. With last fight in you, you looked over at Pierre and mumbled,

“Did I ever tell you how much I hated you, Pierre?”

“Yes, everyday”.

-

It was finally Friday and you still didn’t have a single detail or idea about the man you were meeting for dinner. For all you knew, he could be Timothée Chalamet. Pierre and Kika had given you nothing.

Despite withholding all information about this guy, the did feel bad for you and so had brought you out for a drink before you date to calm the nerves. Just one drink, Pierre had said, they didn’t need you showing pictures of Roscoe to another innocent soul.

As you sat in a Parisian bar, you began to bounce your legs up and down, anything to calm you while you waited for 8pm to arrive. With a quick look at your phone, you saw that it was only 6:30pm.

Shit!

You were going to need more than one drink if you were going to get through the next ninety minutes. You were halfway through your first Aperol Spritz but you’d need about two more if you were going to be any fun tonight.

“Can you stop bouncing your legs please? It’s incredibly annoying,” Pierre spat.

Kika, being the peace maker gently placed a hand on your knee to prevent you from causing any annoyance or, in the way Pierre was carrying on, preventing you from causing an earthquake.

You loved Pierre, but the two of you behaved like siblings much to Kika’s despair. The two of you constantly bickered and found ways to annoy one another but did deep the two of you were close and had a solid friendship.

“Children, please,” Kika groaned. As she took a quick look at her phone, you took the opportunity to flash Pierre the middle finger.

Another fifteen minutes had passed and you weren’t any less nervous about this date. While you had been on dates before, it was your first blind date. And while you had faith in Pierre and Kika’s taste, you wouldn’t put it past Pierre to drag Quasimodo down from the Notre Dame and bring him to a Parisian restaurant for your date.

Feeling bad that he’d been taunting you for days, Pierre felt like it was time to give you some reassurance.

“I don’t know why you’re so worried, [Y/N]. Despite being a pain in my side, you’re catch. You’re a good looking girl. You’re funny and smart. You’ve lived in four countries, I mean there’s so much to talk about,” Pierre says as he places a second Aperol Spritz in front of you.

You flash him a grateful smile.

“He’s right! You’ve got so much going for you, [Y/N]. Plus your boobs look great in that dress,” Kika added. “And he already things you’re hot”.

Your eyes nearly pop out of your head. “Wait, what? He’s already seen a picture of me”.

Pierre flashes Kika a look of what the fuck did you say that before accepting a small defeat.

“Yes, he’s seen a picture of you. And before you tell me how that’s not fair, he’s not a freak like you two”.

“But Pierre,” you begin but Pierre wags his finger out you.

“No. I’m not hearing it,” Pierre says.

Great, out of the four of you, you’re the most clueless about your date.

“Fine, if you won’t tell me anything about him, can you at least tell me what he said when you showed him a picture about me?”

Exhaling, Pierre nodded. “Sure, he pretty much grabbed my phone out of my hand when I showed him your picture. He seemed pretty into it, wanted to see more photos. Asked how we knew you, wanted to know as much about you as he could.”

“Oh, and you told him everything right?”

Pierre chuckled. “Not everything. Didn’t tell him that you were divorced by 30. I thought that it’d be funny for you to do that on your own”.

You thanked Kika as she hit Pierre for you.

“Sorry. That was harsh. He was interested in what happened in your last relationship though. If it’s any consolation, I’ve had to intervene in his love life too. It’s almost as tragic as yours,” Pierre continued.

You frowned at him. “What do you mean by that?”

“Well,” Pierre hesitated. “He was in a relationship about three years ago. Things were pretty serious but suddenly things changed. There were talking about moving in together but one day, she told him she was thinking about getting back with her ex. They had an argument and didn’t speak after that. The last he heard through a friend was that she had left the country to start a new life.”

A weird feeling of deja vu suddenly hits you. The story sounding very similar to your own. Except that you didn’t get with Lewis. You pause before asking, “Did she get back with the ex?”

“I think so,” Pierre answered. “Either that or she was a snake who used her ex as an excuse to end things with Charles”.

You feel your blood run cold as Pierre accidentally drops the name of your date.

“What did you say his name was?” you ask, making sure you’re not hearing things.

“Merde, I can’t believe I dropped his name at the last hurdle,” Pierre groaned, burying his head in his hands.

You mind was racing a million miles an hour. Surely this was just a coincidence. There was thousands of Charles' in Paris, let alone in France. And what were the odds of Pierre knowing your Charles? And a Charles who had the same break up story as your Charles? No, this couldn’t be it.

“Are you okay, [Y/N]? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Kika asks.

You force a light-hearted laugh before taking a sip of your Aperol Spritz.

“I’m all good, thanks. Just worried that Pierre is going to go into a downward spiral now that his plan of keeping this Charles a secret has failed,” you joked. But deep inside you were freaking out.

What if this was Charles? You weren’t sure if you were ready to see him. Even though it had been three years since things had ended, it still hurt you to think about your relationship. Even three years later, you knew you still loved him. But what about Charles? Did he still love you? Or did he hate you? According to Pierre’s story, he still seemed bitter about this break up with his ex.

“It’s a good thing you don’t have time to go through Instagram and find him then, you’ve got to leave for your date in fifteen minutes,” Pierre reminds you.

Shit.

This was really happening wasn’t it? You were going to see Charles finally after all these years.

Or maybe you were just being dramatic, maybe this was just a weird, fucked up coincidence.

“Whatever you do, [Y/N], just don’t break my Charlie’s heart, eh? He’s had to fuck his way through dozens of women just to get over her,” Pierre teases.

“Pierre,” Kika squeals, “You can’t tell her that before she meets him”.

But Pierre’s comment goes over your head. Charles’ fucking lots of girls was the least of your worries.

-

You’re the first one to arrive and the wait is excruciating. You have a look at your phone 8:03pm.

Fuck, it’s been the longest three minutes of your life.

You’re not sure if you want to look at the entrance and see who walks through the door or if you want to keep your head down and pray for the ground to swallow you whole. Right now, the second option feels preferable.

As another minute passes, your phone lights up. It’s a text from Pierre into your group chat with Kika:

Bonne chance! And if we don’t hear back from you by the end of the night, either my friend is a serial killer or you’re 🍆👉🏼🕳️💦

As disgusting as Pierre’s text is, you’re grateful that your mind is occupied for a few moments as you text a:

You’re disgusting 🤮

Once you send your text, you place your phone back down on the table and put your head in your hands, praying for a miracle.

“I’ve thought about what it would be like if I ever saw you again,” it’s a familiar voice coming from behind you, “But I’d never have guessed that it would be the two of us being set up on a blind date”.

Your head shoots up and you turn to the direction of the voice. It’s him. It’s Charles. Your Charles.

“I…,” you begin but that’s all you’ve got. You’re just sitting there with your mouth agape.

Charles smiles at you, he’s much more composed and prepared than you are. How could he not be when he knew long ago that it was you that Pierre was trying to set him up with? He’s probably had days if not weeks to prepare for seeing you in person again.

He takes a few steps towards you before taking your hand in his. Just like the last time, he takes your left one, moving it towards him. He smiles at your hand.

No rings this time around, he thinks to himself before placing a delicate kiss onto your skin.

You feel your cheeks redden at his touch and whatever feelings you’ve harboured for him over the last three years all come rushing back. His touch still feels the same, delicate but purposeful.

He gently lets go of your hand before taking the seat opposite you. You’re still shell shocked that he’s actually here, which is why you can only muster up a, “Hi.”

Charles laughs to himself a little.

“Hi, [Y/N]”.

It falls silent between the two of you. Charles gives you the space to figure out what the fuck is going on while he flicks through the menu for a drink.

You take the opportunity to take in his appearance. He looks good, if not better than the last time. His face is slightly more mature and he’s let his moustache and stubble grow a little longer this time. He’s a little bulkier, clearly he’s been lifting more weights in the gym. His hair looks the same, long and silky. And he’s sporting a tan thanks to the French summer. He dresses better than he did before.

Charles smiles as he’s reading the menu, clearly aware that your eyes are fixated on him, glancing over every inch of his body that you can see. He looks up from the menu and looks at you, still smiling. He’s confident in himself, he knows he’s in control and he seems to be enjoying it.

Embarrassed that you’ve been caught staring, you clear throat and decide to speak your first words of the date.

“Ho-How are you? You look good,” you manage to squeak out.

Fuck, that was embarrassing. Is that it?

Charles chuckles to himself once more before it’s his turn to eye you up. His eyes take in your loose curls that are falling delicately over your shoulders. Your face looks the same, no difference to the last time he saw you. Still so beautiful. You’re rocking a summer tan too. And as for your body, well your breasts look incredible in that peach fitted dress. You didn’t look good, you looked phenomenal.

“I’m good. And you? You’re looking good too but I’m not surprised,” Charles replies.

You blush a little at his comment. “Yeah, I’m fine”.

Taking one last look at the menu, Charles closes it before looking at you. Giving you his full attention.

“How long ago did you find out that it was me you were going on a date with?”

“Erm, about- about thirty minutes ago,” you stutter.

Charles shakes his head. “Fucking Pierre,” he mutters to himself.

“How- how long ago did you know it was me?” you ask ever so quietly.

“About three weeks ago,” he watches for your reaction before continuing, “Look, I don’t want to do this here. And I’m sure you don’t want to do this here either. Let’s go back to my place”.

Without even thinking, you nod. And as Charles stands up from his chair, he puts his hand out for you to hold. His touch is so warm. He smiles at you softly before leading you out of the restaurant into the warm Summer evening.

He’s still holding your hand as he waves down a taxi. As you climb inside, Charles’ hand finds his way to your thigh as he gives his address to the taxi driver.

You can’t help but look at his hand on your thigh. It all feels so surreal. He’s being so nice to you after everything that happened and he’s going against everything that Pierre had said about Charles being hurt by an ex. But maybe Charles had changed, maybe he didn’t hate you that much after how things ended between the two of you.

As your drive through the Parisian streets, Charles’ hand remains on you thigh. And it’s Charles who breaks the silence between you.

“How was New York?”

Your head immediately turns towards him. His expression impossible to read. Confused, you answer him.

“Charles, I never went to New York”.

[harrystylesfan2686]

Pieces

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel and Reader are falling apart and there is nothing reader can do about it.

A/N: angst because I'm sad🥲. Inspired by Sand by Dove Cameron.

Pieces Masterlist

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I feel Azriel drift away from me.

Day after day, I notice him distancing himself from me. He doesn't spend much time with me now. Doesn't talk to me. Doesn't hold me like he did before.

He is spending much of his time with Elain now.

I see them in the garden, walking beside each each, her hand held in his. They talk and laugh with each other, lost in their own world. He even makes time for her.

Just like him did for me before.

He only comes home to eat, sleep and make small talk to me and then goes back to her again. Every morning I watch him get up from bed and get ready for the day, silently. He pecks my lips, whispers a small 'I love you.' and leaves.

I feel like a stranger to him now.

Whenever I try to talk to him about his day or literally anything else, he turns me down immediately, only giving me short responses. He doesn't ask me of anything in return, never wanting to talk me for more than 5 minutes.

It makes me feel unwanted.

When we accepted our mating bond, I had issues with trusting our future together. Azriel assured me we would be alright. He told me over and over again, that he loved me.

"I love you so much. You are my everything. I promise you, I will spend the rest of my life making sure you know that."

I could hear his love in his words. It was almost a century ago. That promise is what I remind myself of when I start to question his loyalty for me.

I've lost count of how many nights I've spent crying in my pillow, everytime these little things cut deeper wounds in my heart. None of which Azriel heard in his slumber.

-☆-

The silence is uncomfortable.

The clicking of spoons against dishes help in filling it a little but the awkwardness still stays. I look at Azriel, eating without glancing up. I made his favorite tonight. He still hasn't commented on it, not that I expected him too. I did.

I clear my throat to catch his attention but he still doesn't look up, so I ask,"How was your day?".

"It was normal." He says without looking up, not say anything else after.

"I made your favorite today." I try again. That finally catches his attention. Hazel eyes look into mine containing what it seems to be realization. I tilt my head in confusion. "Did you not realize that? I hadn't cooked it in so long so i thought you'd be happy to eat this."

"Oh, um, no you're right, I didn't realise it. I actually was trying to hurry up." He gave a apologetic smile.

"Hurry up?" I ask. "Yes, I have business with Rhys today. And I actually ate this a week ago." He looks at the plate.

"Oh?" I frown. "Yes. I mentioned to Elain once that I like this and she surprised me by cooking it and forcing me to eat and review it." He chuckles. "It was quite good." He continues eating as if he didn't just broke my heart to complete pieces.

My shoulders drop and eyes burn with tears threatening to fall. I look down to hide my crumbling face from him. I clench my figures around the spoon, trying to keep my emotions in control. I somehow manage to not cry until he is gone for the second time today.

But the second he leaves I drop on our bed and sob until my eyes are raw and sleep takes over me.

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[noroi1000]

Evil Queen

paring: Good King Gojo x Evil Queen reader

For @blvckryx

Words: 8,9k

Warnings: deaths, NSFW (Sub Gojo, dom reader, tied to a chair, begging, creampie, tied cock, oversensitive)

Summary: All your fiancés died because you didn't want them as husband. You didn't want that much. After your father died, you were forced into marriage. At your wedding, your hands were handcuffed. You wanted to kill your husband - Gojo Satoru. But you couldn't do it, he's not dying. He let you try it. He's not the same as the others... You don't want to kill him...

"(y/n), you can't keep killing your husbands…"

You looked at your father as you looked at the silver bracelet you got from your prospective husband.

"He was not my husband. And I didn't kill him." You said calmly, watching the white diamonds on the silver.

"Zenin is not someone to play with. Honey, understand that you must have a husband." He said as he sat in his chair across the table in front of you.

"How many times do I have to tell you I didn't do it? He killed himself…" you snapped as you threw the expensive jewelry on the table.

Your father was a little afraid of you. And you were perfectly aware of it.

He didn't have much time left in this world, so he tried to leave his kingdom in good hands. Of course he trusted you.

You were relentless. You were so smart. However, you had no mercy even for the smallest thieves.

The good citizens of your kingdom lived peacefully, avoiding poverty.

You didn't want them to want you dead.

You punished all criminals.

Execution, imprisonment, or simply confiscation of property. Or sometimes irreversible disability.

That's what your father used to do.

Thieves had their hands cut off so that they could no longer steal. Prison escapees or those who were fleeing from justice had their legs cut off.

Adulterers were castrated.

You didn't mind. You gave orders to your hired people and they did it.

You didn't mind seeing death.

Not after you saw your future husband, the son of a scholar who was believed to be a sorcerer, kill your friend who has served you since you were little.

As you entered his chamber, you saw a passage to another room below. And when you went in there, you saw Kenjaku cutting the top of the skull off from the rest, and he started looking for something in your friend's brain.

Were you ever going to marry a murderer like him?

You've seen your father convict someone many times.

Your mother accidentally killed your little brother. However, you know what the truth was. She just miscarried. Your father decided that she didn't want to give him any more children, and that she defied him. She was his wife from an arranged marriage. He had her killed as punishment.

You loved your mother more than your father.

And you were afraid you'd die like her because something your father didn't like.

You tried to obey everything he told you to do. You were the perfect princess. That's why you were supposed to be the future queen.

But you wanted your Father not to have the power over you that he has now.

This is why…

That's why you did everything to be cruel.

You had no mercy for anyone who was like him.

Until it finally became your nature.

You weren't nice. But you tried to be good to your subjects.

In other realms they thought of you as a monster. Even if you weren't that cruel.

You were like that to people you didn't like.

You didn't like your husband candidates, so you did everything you could to annul your wedding.

They were either dying or trying to get rid of you.

Kenjaku died because when you were teenagers he started saying something to you that scared you.

He was a little older than you, and he said he'd like to create the perfect baby with you to help him carry out his plan.

You never wanted to marry him.

He died because he fell under the table and the heaviest knife he ever used to split skulls fell on his forehead.

It was as if you murdered him.

Soon after, your second husband appeared…

Naoya Zenin who died during a fight you practically arranged.

Let's just say, a lot of people didn't like him, so finding a candidate wasn't difficult.

But you still had clean hands.

Your third candidate for a husband is a man almost twice your age who has a teenage son.

Well, your Father seeks power and wealth.

He has almost only power.

This man killed the previous ruler and seized the throne.

Fushiguro Toji ruled over a large army. But he wasn't that rich.

You hated him for being such a terrible womanizer. He had a son, two wives if not more.

You were supposed to be his next wife. Even at a meeting with him, there was a woman next to him!

A direct guy who was too brave.

You want someone direct, but not someone like him who shows he can have anyone and does it right away.

As soon as he started approaching you like it wasn't the first time you'd met, you wanted to do something to him.

You did not want to deprive the child of his father, but you even learned that his son does not live in his kingdom!

When he was too insistent, two months ago you gave him a wound running through his mouth. And now there was a scar in that place.

And it's not like he gave up.

You still had to be his wife…

And he was killed fighting a prince of another kingdom.

You were on your way home at the time. Fight and death have passed you by.

You brazenly led Toji out of the house so he couldn't hide. Even though he was strong, there was no way he could win with that power.

Or so you thought.

And you weren't wrong. You received news some time later that your fiancé, Fushiguro Toji, was killed during the fight between his kingdom and the kingdom ruled by Prince Gojo.

Gojo…

Did you know that name…

Didn't this happen to be on your father's lists once?

Soon after, the same man became a king instead of a prince.

His image was in your father's eyes because he didn't want to get in trouble with the strongest kingdom.

He was a good king. Smiling and cheerful. But also deadly.

You weren't that selfish, but without your father, you would have ruled better.

Could there have been no deaths?

Be that as it may, you are involved in all of them.

Your father's chief servants wanted to drag you by force to the next husband candidate, but they mysteriously disappeared.

And only you knew what happened to them.

You knocked them unconscious with an efficient blow to the head with a rock, and left them in the woods. Where it was most dangerous.

And they never came back.

You have blood on your hands.

Your father thinks you'll be the evil queen.

But you don't want to rule by fear.

You hated being ordered around.

Because you wanted to choose your own path.

You have often thought about killing your father.

To dispel his fear of you.

He was the most feared of all these people.

You planned his death.

You didn't want to get married. Not for someone he chose for you!

You were forcibly dragged to the next candidate by the guards.

Ryomen Sukuna… King - monster. Self-proclaimed king of "curses", because when he cursed a people, they died at his hands.

A man who rules over people with fear…

Was this thing supposed to be just for you?

One thing was for sure, you didn't want to be his wife.

A man who drinks blood mixed with wine because he likes it?

No thanks.

But you agreed to your father's game.

You could have shown him that you wouldn't be as nice as you've always been.

You'll be soulless.

You can kill a monster like him.

Someone who with his bare hands, for fun, rips off women their children, babies, and rips off their heads?

Sick bastard…

Even you winced at the sight.

You could have been a mother once.

But there's no way you're having a baby with that thing…

Out of the candidates you had, Kenjaku would be the quickest to pick… He at least tried to be nice somehow…

But it wasn't ideal anyway…

You could kill as you wanted.

You can even be the evil queen. But you won't be blind to what's going on around you.

You were supposed to stay with Sukuna for a month and then get married…

You were always on guard.

You were like a pet to him.

And when he saw you stabbed one of his servants when they were about to put a collar on you like a dog, he smiled instead of being angry.

"You should get used to it sometime. I have so many. So go ahead and have fun." He said and waved his hand. "My woman has to get used to what she will see in wars and everywhere."

You wanted to go up to him and slit his throat.

You were like a puppy to him.

For him to stroke. You were supposed to be just like them to others.

You don't want innocent people to think you're such a monster.

You've killed some people, but never someone who didn't do anything to you.

You spent a lot of your days throwing knives at the wall. You've learned to always hit with the tip.

When you were told to prepare meals for your "husband" (even if he wasn't that and never would have been…), you put old blood of sick animals into his "wine".

Hoping that pig would eventually die.

You threw a knife at him once, and he pulled it out and threw it at you like it was a ball.

You're okay, but you've had enough.

You won't be with a sick bastard like him!

People will hate you when you become his wife against your will.

He had many enemies.

And you were one of them.

You were angry enough to play with him now.

Pretending to seduce him, you locked him in your bedroom.

A fool sees no trick.

Or is he just a sadist who loves to splash in blood?

You don't like it.

But since you have no choice, you will murder anyone who orders you to do anything.

You will kill every candidate for your husband until the choice is finally over.

You will be king on your own.

Even if your past was covered in blood.

You killed your penultimate candidate in bed.

You never wanted him to touch you.

That's why before he thought you two could have sex, you stabbed him in the throat.

To wait for his red eyes to close.

To his subjects, you came out of there a hero who made their lives easier.

No more monthly human sacrifices.

There will be no annual virgin sacrifice.

Nothing will threaten them anymore.

The bloody city has been abandoned. And people came to your kingdom.

More people meant more money for your father. More workers.

However, when you told him that you were the cause of your fiancé's death, he froze.

You showed him your dress which was bright with huge blood stains.

Blood that belongs to the king - Ryomen Sukuna's.

You never regretted killing someone who was mean.

His people were terrified, but they regarded you as their savior.

You gave them freedom.

you helped them.

But your father didn't like it.

No wonder one time, during your frequent look at what you managed to do as a princess, you were pushed off the balcony by your father.

As someone who cannot rule without killing.

Your reflexes were quick.

You instinctively grabbed whatever you could.

At the bottom of the square stood people who watched what was happening there with screams.

The guards started running up the stairs nearby to help you.

You grabbed your father's collar making him lose his balance.

As you grabbed the balcony wall, you pulled him forward.

And you saw your Father slowly approaching down the square. Until he finally fell.

A pool of blood you've seen more than once.

Were you a regicide?

No…

Rather, it was your Father who tried to kill you.

Your closest servant and friend - Utahime, helped you return to safe land with fear.

The guards dragged your body up as fast as they could, then took you to the medic.

You were not found guilty of killing the king.

Because he wanted to kill you.

And the people, when asked if they wished to convict you, refused.

You were the evil queen.

But you weren't the one for them…

You were the new queen.

However, according to your father's death decree, you must have a husband to rule.

Old boor…

He did it specifically for you to have a problem…

You received your father's letters with someone from the Gojo kingdom…

Even their letters were rich…

What if you get married and then become a widow?

You don't want someone to rule over you…

You want to live the way you want, and provide what is good to everyone who believes in you.

You don't want to marry someone like he probably is…

But you have no choice…

You will become his wife, and you will kill him.

Or maybe you'll at least have a baby so you won't be lonely…

So that no one will accuse you of not having a descendant and successor…

You haven't met your future husband.

The advisers and nobles who were your father's faithful servants prepared you for the wedding.

Your dress was beautiful, as befits a royal wedding.

Your only wish was that it be fast.

They all knew that you killed the kings of other kingdoms.

You didn't look at the face of the tall man who was standing in front of you as the ceremony began.

Your hands were handcuffed in front of your body with white gold handcuffs. They didn't look bad and they also held you back.

You've been searched first.

It was hard for you to take your marriage vows with your hands cuffed.

But your prayers for a quick end have been heard by the gods.

Now just a kiss and it'll be over…

The fabric on your face was pulled back, and you looked up a little higher, still not meeting your now husband.

Now just a sealing kiss.

Feel the disgusting lips of someone you don't even want to know…

You stared at one point, over his shoulder as his finger lifted your chin slightly higher as he bent down lower.

He was really tall.

Your lips were slightly parted, and shiny under the influence of natural, glossy lipstick.

"I know you don't want this…"

You heard him say softly.

You widened your eyes and he placed his lips barely on the corner of yours.

Did he just…

Didn't he just make you do something?

Your kingdoms are now connected.

You have become queen and your husband is Gojo Satoru…

You should be happy like the people.

People were happy when they heard the news that your kingdom will be merged with Gojo's kingdom.

It is said that justice, security and prosperity reign at a very high level in that kingdom.

All thanks to the new king. "Son of the Gods".

According to the priests, he was a prophecy of greatness. And eyes like blue crystals, created by miracles in distant lands, showed wealth.

Apparently, no one was disappointed, because all this happened.

They were more powerful than your kingdom. So much…

Much richer.

Even though your country was also prosperous. There were no neighborhoods where people died every day.

But it was even better there.

You used to live in the capital.

The capital was a royal city in the territory of his kingdom.

His close friends will take care of the new lands because he doesn't have much time to go there.

While your people were delighted, the people of his country were not.

How does a wonder child, a wonder king marry an evil Queen?

A queen who killed the kings of other countries who were her betrothed…

You were their queen now.

You want to fulfill your plan.

You will kill him.

But…

"You want to kill me, don't you?" he asked as he lay on his stomach on your bed, lazily eating some dessert.

Your hands trembled.

He knew you could kill him anytime.

However, he didn't seem to care at all…

How?

"Go ahead. You can try. However, I have promised some people that I will not die so soon." He said calmly.

Is he serious?

You can't listen to him!

You must do it!

You will not listen to someone who will probably hurt you!

Suddenly he looked at you from behind his black glasses.

"Let's play your game. Try to kill me. I will not attack you. You attack me and I won't do anything about it. When you kill me, you win."

"Are you serious-"

He interrupted you.

"I'm serious. I want to prove something to someone. What my wife is like."

Before you could somehow embarrass yourself by his words, you decided to give him back.

It sounded weird when he referred to you as "wife".

He was handsome.

And you even liked him.

But…

But you don't want him to hurt you.

You are the Evil Queen. And everyone hates you…

He also…

He can't prove otherwise.

He married you because he had to.

You were the cruelest queen ever.

And you couldn't change it…

you were like that.

What was he trying to prove?

You walked over to him and smiled slightly.

"It's a shame a man with eyes like that has to cover them with those stupid glasses." You chuckled softly.

"I'll take that as a compliment." He said with a smile.

You sat next to him.

You've been married for a month…

He looked at you scanningly.

You had no desire to kill.

You placed your hand on his back, then ran your finger over his palpable muscles under his white shirt.

"What are you doing?" He asked.

"I spend time with my husband…?" You asked, wanting to ignore it.

"It's weird… You want to seduce me?" He smiled at you.

"Do you want it?" You gave him a mischievous smile.

"If I remember correctly what I heard, you killed Sukuna during sex. What if it happens to me?? This is not a clean game. That's not how I agreed. Only traps and fair attack." He turned to you, laying on his back.

"That's not true… I killed him before he could touch me."

"I thought evil queens used someone before they killed them. So maybe you're not the Evil Queen?"

"Shut up." You muttered, sitting on his stomach. "Just fair game. I don't have any weapons on me…"

"That's good. Because I'd love to be closer to my wife as long as I'm alive."

You leaned in to kiss him.

And for the first time you felt that his lips were soft. Not horrible and disgusting.

You didn't know what to do anymore.

Kill him?

Live with him?

You didn't want a husband. But the longer you're with him, the more you think you're okay with him.

He treats you so well…

He took your people and you too. The killer. Evil Queen…

And now he's telling you that you can try to kill him?

What's wrong with him?

For some moments you didn't want to kill him.

But you decided you'd do it before you changed your mind.

In order not to be hurt by him…

Was your relationship just sex?

You noticed that despite being so powerful, he could be a good boy and let you take control.

But never mind the sex…

You've already tried to kill him twice.

You gave him two poisonous plant decoctions to drink.

For the first time, it turned out that he does not drink wine.

The second time he sniffed his juice, and smelled it…

He just smiled at you and spilled it on the floor saying, "Failed try."

You were even able to pour something in his bath which, when poured over an object, burned the surface.

You're not sure what it is, but you hoped you wouldn't see him die.

The longer you're with him, the more you feel sorry for him…

When he dies, then you can cry.

The more you stick to it…

He got into another tub then…

And he directly told you later that he smelled sulfur in the bathhouse when he went in there.

Sulfuric acid in the water… Would that have any effect on him at all?

It failed with the poison, trying to kill him in the water.

The next time you tried to drown him when you offered to wash his back.

He knew something would happen.

You tried to push his head under the water, but you failed. You didn't even move it.

He just laughed.

Is this man really not afraid of death?

After all, you are the Evil Queen!

You really didn't want to see him die…

Did you notice that…

You don't want him to die in front of your eyes. Because you will feel sorry for him…

You tied the ax to the rope you had attached to the door.

The ax was heavy, but you managed to make the trap work.

When he opens the door, the ax will fall on him.

He entered the room, and then heavy weapons began to fly at him on a rope.

He jumped up, grabbing onto the rope, then landed on the metal embedded in the wall.

"Nice move, baby." He laughed.

"What the fuck…?!" his friend shouted.

"It's just our little game. Mine with my wife!"

Have you had enough of this…

You tried to push him down the stairs, but it came out like you were hugging him…

You're running out of ideas…

You felt worse and worse trying to kill him…

He kept smiling at you and letting you do it.

You have not been convicted of trying to kill the king not once…

There were no consequences for you.

You were lying in bed under the covers when he entered the room with a smile.

"Are you okay? You didn't leave today." He said as he closed the door.

You threw a knife at him.

He only tilted his head slightly as the knife pierced the door next to his head.

The incredible reflexes he had amazed you.

But he wasn't afraid of death at all…

"Leave me… Or else… What do you want, Satoru?" You asked turning away from him.

You felt worse and worse at the thought of killing him.

Was he the same as those?

He cared for you after all…

Is it worth killing him?

That's why you were in bed, sad.

"You know… I thought about our bath last night, and I got a little horny…" he murmured.

You looked at the bulge in his pants.

Admittedly, you've thought about it too, and you're sure you can take that big cock right away. After all, you must have gotten a little wet…

You pulled back the covers to signal him.

He walked over quickly, already pulling the length out of his pants.

You pulled up your nightgown and took off your panties, quickly wrapping your legs around his hips and letting him slide right into you.

You've had enough of this… You've failed…

The longer you look at that smile, your heart tells you that you love that look on his face…

Have you had enough of this…

The last time you try…

You will have blood on your hands…

His blood…

When he came into your bedroom in the evening, you kicked him in the back of his knees, causing him to lose his balance.

He knelt on the floor and looked at you.

Little tears flowed from your eyes.

You were supposed to kill those who hurt you…

And he…

And he never hurt you once…

But you'll kill him anyway…

And you'll probably regret it for the rest of your life.

You expected him to be furious.

But he looked at you with the same eyes as always.

And he smiled very slightly.

You held the knife tighter in your hand.

You were shaking a bit.

You've killed so many times.

He can't be your weakness…

He was supposed to be just like everyone else…

He was supposed to do what you don't want!

…But he didn't…

You walked over to him and tapped his shoulder with your foot.

He fell to the floor, lying on his back.

But he didn't even protest.

You put your foot on his chest and then sat on top of him, pointing the blade of the knife at his throat.

You breathed for the tears to disappear.

But looking at that scene below you, you couldn't stop crying.

The last light of the sun was reflecting off the knife today. It lightly illuminated the room.

You saw his gentle eyes and kind smile.

He didn't even move. Even if he could break free now and throw you off him, call the guards to take you to the dungeon.

But he doesn't…

"Why do you always have to smile like an idiot?!" you shouted. "Do you really want to die?!"

"You're beautiful even now." He said.

"Shut up! Why?!"

"From the beginning, I wanted to prove to you that you are not a cruel person. You don't want to get hurt. I wanted to show you that you can get love too."

You shivered as your heart pounded.

But with tears you brought the knife closer to his throat.

"Shut up! For everyone I'm just a queen that kills! I-"

"You're not an evil queen. You're the perfect queen who wants to take care of those she cares about. I know you may think differently of me than I do. If you think I'm like them, kill me. But I never meant to hurt you. What you do depends on you. I will accept what you give me. That's what you do out of love, right?"

"Y-You–!"

Your hands were shaking.

He still didn't move. He wasn't nervous at all.

"You won our game. Now I won't run away. I can't avoid it. I give you my life. I give it to my wife. Who is not an evil queen."

You squeezed your eyes shut.

Just one hand movement, and it's done.

You moved the blade.

You threw the knife on the floor, jumping off it.

You were kneeling on the floor, covering your face with your hands.

Two meters from him.

You can not do it…

You can't…

You felt something on your shoulder.

You looked over there.

"It's okay… Don't cry…" he said calmly and wrapped his arms around you very gently as he knelt behind you.

"I just wanted to kill you… so why are you now–"

"I love you. Isn't that reason enough? You are my wife. I swore allegiance to you. So I wanted to be true to what I said. I wanted to prove something to someone. What my wife is like. I wanted to prove to you that you have a good heart. If it wasn't, I would have been dead six months ago."

You moved.

He thought you would run away from him.

But you turned away, pressing your head against his chest.

He didn't do anything to you…

You couldn't kill him…

Because he was one of the few people who treated you differently.

Better.

Your husband was a good king…

You were supposed to be the evil queen…

You are not.

To him, you are the most wonderful woman.

He may have been against being with you at first, but he saw you walking around in dark dresses, making no secret of the fact that you were the cause of the deaths of so many important people.

You were nice. You cared about people.

And you didn't care what a cruel, bloody portrait you had in people's eyes.

Those who have listened to you believe that you are a good queen.

Those who don't know you think you're just a heartless murderer who out of selfishness and greed craves power.

However, you did not kill their wonderful king, who is not much different from this portrait.

His smile is on his face, but he has even more terrible scenes than you had.

Killing, torturing. Leaving to fate. Psychological and physical torture.

Cruel deaths.

He, the good king, hid this side from people.

But everyone knew the power in his hands.

You didn't hide the truth about yourself.

And the world shows you that sometimes a sweet lie is better than a bitter truth.

But what was supposed to connect you was never going to lie anymore.

It will be the sweet truth.

He promised you that people would recognize you.

And despite the fact that you have no heart and no mercy for criminals, you are actually a nice person.

As long as no one bothers you.

He got a chance from you. And you let him get as close as you've never been to anyone before.

You failed to kill him, and you no longer wanted to.

Not after everything he's done for you.

He himself could kill you and get rid of you.

But he didn't. He's not afraid that you might kill him in his sleep.

Because he trusts you.

Especially after you let him get so close to your body and heart that he'll never be able to leave again.

The first person you chose to be your husband, and you liked him, was him. Satoru.

Someone who thinks about you and not just about himself.

Even if he didn't want an arranged marriage, he somehow accepted you.

He liked the fact that you had emotions and your own opinion.

That you don't just live by what people think of you.

He only allowed you to try to kill him to prove to you that you are not what people tell you.

You're not cruel.

Even though you have no mercy, you are a loved one for those who are close to you.

Even though there aren't many people in your life who are so nice to you who love you, he was one of those people.

He deserved a place in your heart…

The only man you could love because he didn't see you as just killing anyone who was mean.

He was like that because he killed someone himself. That's the role of the king. Sentence to death, kill in combat.

He wasn't sure if he happened to be more murderous than you.

But your roles were made anyway.

Evil Queen and Good King.

Even if you're on a similar level at murder.

You will be Good, Beautiful Queen by his side.

And people can't say you'll be the same as you were.

Because you are his wife.

And what you decide, you do.

Because you are beautiful, strong and independent.

His great queen.

"It's okay if you still want to kill me." He said, stroking your head reassuringly. "I don't forbid you from trying your best. It was even fun…" he laughed.

You clenched your hands on his sides.

"You can still try to kill me–."

"I don't want to kill you…" you interrupted him, and suddenly you looked at him with a smile. "But don't think I'm going to be a gentle wife."

"And that's something I love." He smiled and placed his lips on your cheek.

"… I thought you didn't want to kill me anymore…" he moaned, feeling the ropes tighten on his body. "So what is it supposed to be?"

You wrapped a red rope around his chest.

He laughed as sweat slowly ran down his face.

He was trying so hard to be calm, but any human can start to panic the moment he can't move.

It was the same with him now.

If you wanted to kill him, you will surely succeed now.

You called him to your chamber. He came.

But then he realized it was quite dark there.

The windows are covered with thick curtains, and the lighting is provided by candles evenly distributed around the room.

There was a chair in the middle.

He called your name several times.

And he expected something perverted from you.

After all, when was it such a climate in the room? Warm light, alluring atmosphere. so good. So perfect for you.

As he walked over to the heavy chair, he wondered where you got it from.

It was definitely from here. Or did you have a carpenter do it?

It was tall and heavy.

Dimples on the legs, at the height of the ankles, and a specific shape of the back. Like it was perfectly made for his body.

It sure was comfortable.

And he could say it right away.

Besides, this height also showed that it was perfect for Him.

The red fabric covering in the middle and back contrasted with the dark wood.

Is this a gift for him from you?

If so, he'll be glad to lean you against the back of that chair and fuck you into oblivion.

But he knew it wasn't that kind of gift.

You are planning something.

As he ran his fingers along the smooth wood of the backrest, he felt someone pushing him.

When he turned around, he saw it was you. You stepped out from behind a large curtain, pushing him into a chair.

"(y/n)–."

"Don't move." You said grabbing his wrists tightly and pulling them back.

If he had tried to break free from your grip, he would have succeeded.

Because he is strong. But curiosity overcame him. He wanted to see what you would do to him.

But when he felt you wrap the string around his wrists, it was different.

He was curious what you would do to him. And there was also a dangerous excitement.

You've wrapped his big wrists many times as you've been training to keep him from breaking free.

His hands were tightly bound and the constriction in the lower part of the chair prevented him from getting up from the chair because his hands were behind his back and the chair was wider at the top of his back.

Even if he tried, his bound hands wouldn't let him get up.

It took some time to plan what this chair should look like…

And the king's carpenter agreed to do it.

As he leaned forward, you grabbed his head, catching his hair lightly, and pulled his head back, tugging on the white strands.

"No, my king. You can't move yet." You whispered in his ear.

As he listened to you with his pupils dilated to catch the light, you saw his ears blush…

You reached around him, passing the red rope from one hand to the other.

You wrapped his chest around it, leaving space where his tits were.

Something like this could be useful.

Later, you also bound his arms, making the bound hands immobile, and tied to the back of the chair.

You tied it with a strong knot, but you didn't tighten it on him so tight that it left marks. You don't want it to take away his blood supply.

"… I thought you didn't want to kill me anymore…" he moaned, feeling the ropes tighten on his body. "So what is it supposed to be?"

"I will not kill you, my king ~. You just said you wanted to play. Besides, I told you I wouldn't be a gentle queen." You laughed and knelt with him, spreading his legs, then tied his ankles to the legs of the chair. Rope fit perfectly into the cut narrowings.

So that's why it's there…

After you finished, he started to move a little. Struggling. But he couldn't move his body.

It wasn't like he was fighting to get out.

It's as if he's only looking at how powerful the ropes are.

And the sight of you in front of him in a dark red dress with lace was wonderful.

You were so different from other princesses and queens.

They all wore bright, clean dresses.

And you often wore darker colors.

Maybe it's also because the light ones get dirty very quickly?

Especially if the dress is long and touches the floor.

He almost completely calmed down.

Only his heart pounded in his chest.

His breathing was heavier.

You are his dangerous pleasure.

You did something unexpected.

And he liked it.

The dangerous excitement he felt now.

The direction of his blood was clearly directed to his crotch, and he slowly felt it begin to harden in his pants.

"A gentle queen would never do such a thing, huh… And my queen finally caught me, heh." He smiled conceitedly.

"That pretty smile won't be there when you beg me, baby." You said and quickly untied the back of your dress,

Taking it off as you tossed the expensive fabric aside onto the floor, leaving your red petticoat with stockings on you.

You were walking on a soft carpet with a heavy chair on it.

You wanted it to be so heavy that he couldn't knock it over very easily.

Two people brought it here, and it was really hard for them to do it, but they made it.

You also had other surprises for him today.

"Beg? What should I beg for, baby?" He asked with the same smile.

You stood up and grabbed his cheeks to make him look up.

"We both know you can moan and beg like a whore. So be a good boy 'cause I make you beg for touch." you kissed his lips before pulling away and knelt down again, resting your cheek against his inner thigh.

You reached your hand to his increasingly visible cock.

"You like it." You smiled harder.

"I like giving attention from my wife. Will you touch me?" His grin appeared.

At what he said you snapped your fingers at his increasing length, causing him to hiss softly.

"Such a big, nice dick… However, if you still think you're driving now, your dick will be in your pants all the time. So cramped and uncomfortable. Without anything to touch." You said. "So be a good boy. Agreement?"

He looked at you with a blush on his cheeks.

He liked it…

"… Yeah… My queen." he said with a small smile and blush.

"Good boy~."

Suddenly you took out a knife.

He looked at you questioningly.

"You didn't say you were going to cut me." He grunted dissatisfied.

"If I didn't say so, then I won't." You laughed and cut the threads holding the buttons on his shirt.

To finally pull both sides of his shirt hard, revealing his chest.

You wanted to laugh softly as his nipples hardened at the feeling of cold around him.

His pants were getting very uncomfortably tight…

Seeing his displeasure, you reached down to his crotch and unzipped his pants.

He lifted his hips slightly to help you take it off him.

And now his pants and underwear were at his ankles, further restricting his movements when he was bound.

Now he won't do anything. He won't run away.

His pink tip rested on his thigh.

His hands were moving because he wanted so much to start massaging his cock.

Seeing you in front of him just made his skin tingle.

But he couldn't do it.

Only you could touch him because his body was immobile.

You threw the knife to the floor with a loud clatter.

You took off your petticoat, leaving you in only stockings in front of him.

"Without underwear? Be brave, baby." He smiled at the sight of your perky nipples and sweet, soft pussy for him to look at now.

You placed your finger on his lips, silencing him.

"Shh… Do not say anything. If you're a good boy who listens, I'll give you a reward."

"What reward?" he smiled.

"If you don't listen, I won't touch you. And you won't be able to touch either."

"Hard Punishment…"

"I know. That's why you promise to be a good boy?" You stroked his cheek.

He nodded at you, looking away with a blush.

"Perfect." You patted his head. "Good boys always get rewards. And if you promise to be a good boy, why shouldn't I reward you?"

He looked at you curiously as you knelt in front of him, stepping between his spread legs.

Kneeling on his pants that gathered at his ankles.

That's the height you were after.

His cock was perfectly level with your tits.

You reached for his semi-hard cock, licking the tip lightly.

He sighed softly, wanting more…

You licked the bottom of his cock then pulled away.

He looked at you questioningly as you spat on your chest and then down his length, smearing your saliva all over him.

And you moved closer, placing his shaft between your breasts, smearing saliva on your skin.

And when it fit perfectly, you cupped your tits with your hands, making you rub his cock.

He made low grunts as the soft mounds brushed hard against him. Because it was so enjoyable.

You smiled as you watched his flushed cheeks as his flushed cock brushed the tip against your skin until his warm, an oblong and large piece of his body gave hot drops of precum onto your skin.

Much to his displeasure, your touch left his cock, leaving him standing at attention in your direction.

Before he could say anything, he stopped himself, remembering that when he's a good boy, you'll give him a reward.

He carefully watched your wet breasts and how you reached into your hair, untying the black ribbon that held your hair.

You kissed his head, and suddenly wrapped a thin ribbon around its base.

You wrapped the fabric strap around it, pulling it tighter before tying a bow over his balls.

You tweaked it a bit to get a nice view.

His cock, standing and shining, hard. A black bow over his balls. And on its base a tightened strip of material that oppresses it.

You sat on his lap, kissing his chest that wasn't covered with rope until you moved your mouth to his nipple, sucking lightly.

His muscles tensed as you bit down slightly.

Pinching his sensitive bumps with your fingers, you stood over his hips, rubbing your clit lightly against the tip of his, giving both you and him pleasure.

While you're kissing.

His tongue swirled in your mouth before you dominated the kiss, pushing your tongue into his mouth, causing him to purr.

But as his cock slid lower, touching your entrance, you pulled away from him completely.

You got off his lap and sat on the bed that was five feet in front of him.

"(y/n)~." he murmured. You could feel his plea for touch in his voice.

"You're such a good boy. But I have to punish you for breaking out in the beginning." You said with a winning smile.

You looked at his cock which turned from bright pink to red through the material that was tightened around it.

He looked so cute with that bow.

A big, pretty dick wrapped in a ribbon that swells and throbs.

He will moan so nicely when you sit on him~.

"When you don't complain, it will be faster for you ~."

You lay down suddenly on your back, dipping your fingers into your soft, wet folds.

Spreading out to show him your pussy.

You knew so well that his hungry eyes stared at your dripping folds.

You like the way he looks fucked up and flushed.

He will be very sensitive when you touch him.

With a small smile, you run your fingers over your clit quickly, widening your legs wide for him so he can watch and drool. What is he definitely doing.

It might be a little embarrassing to lie so open to someone, but it's worth your time. To see his fucked up face later when he wants to come.

To show him more, you inserted two fingers of your other hand into you, still moving quickly over your clit.

God, how he wanted to replace your fingers with his.

How he wanted to replace your fingers with his cock.

But he had to be a good boy because he won't get it at all.

Even if he tries to look away to stop feeling the throbbing in his swollen cock, your wet sounds and grunts will still make him stare at the beautiful scene before him.

Your pussy has always been so soft. He loved hiding inside of you so much. Hitting your soft body.

And now he also couldn't miss how your smaller hands are satisfying you.

He loved to dig his fingers and face into your pussy fat. Feeling soft. Feeling the taste. To feel your soft pussy sucking his hard cock inside.

If just looking could bring him to orgasm, he would have shot thick strings of cum long ago.

Not only was nothing touching him, but the bow on it would probably prevent him from coming. As befits a cock-clamping posture.

His breath quivered as your thighs trembled as well, and your fingers stopped as you came with a hollow groan.

He looked at his cock, red and begging for attention.

Drops of precum flowed from its tip, down its side.

If only he could somehow make anything touch his length…

He wanted so much to touch…

With a red face and hazy eyes, he looked at you as you sat on the mattress of the high bed, adjusting your stockings with labored breathing.

Seeing his almost teary eyes, you smiled slightly.

"what's wrong?"

You gave him a stronger smile.

He looked at you, then at his cock, then at you again.

A silent signal that he wants you to touch him.

"Sorry, I don't know what you mean."

"Come here…" he moaned.

"That's not how you should talk. A good boy doesn't talk like that." You waved your finger at him.

He sighed heavily.

He couldn't stand it…

Tears stung his eyes. He was so sensitive and the material on his penis wasn't helping.

"So? What should you say?" You walked over to him, sitting on his lap but being careful not to touch his cock.

His cock was crying with precum.

"Touch me." he murmured.

"I did not hear."

"Touch me." he said sharper.

"That's not how you should call me." You laughed. "I already told you that you would beg me. Show me your sweet face when you beg me."

Flushing, he watched as your hands massaged his thighs, close to his length, but you still hadn't touched him.

"So?"

"touch me please?"

"Better now. But say it louder."

Your fingers untied the bow, but instead of taking it off, you tightened the fabric a little tighter around his thickness.

He opened his mouth, letting out a trembling groan. His eyes released solitary tears as did his cock, which cried with more precum when squeezed.

"P-please…" he groaned, looking at you with glassy eyes.

Taking advantage of the drops of precum running down his cock, you tugged at the fabric, sliding it lightly over his cock. He hissed as he felt the pressure go higher up his length.

It pulsed. You've seen it so much.

His hips jumped as he tried to pull back, but he couldn't.

His legs moved, but he couldn't move them because of the ropes around his ankles.

"I can't hear you, honey~."

As you said, his smile disappeared from his face. And so red and desperate he looked so cute.

You felt your excitement run down your thigh at the mere sight.

"Please…"

"Say it louder and you'll get it." You ran your fingers across his chest.

"Fuck me… Touch me…"

"What are you saying?"

"Fuck me please!" he said out loud and you laughed.

You slowly removed the slightly wet ribbon from it, tossing it aside.

And to his relief, you grabbed his cock, smearing what was oozing from its tip down its impressive length.

So red and pulsating.

It's so begging to put it inside you, and feel all those veins on it.

When you petted him, he felt like he was about to explode.

He's coming really fast…

He doesn't care… He just wants to be in your pussy.

"Good boy."

You moved closer, aligning his weeping length below you, in straight line.

He was swollen. He was a little bigger than he would have been if you hadn't put that ribbon on him.

Which also makes him very sensitive.

He moaned loudly almost immediately as your entrance widened to accommodate the top of him.

After such torture, he finally got around to receiving your attention.

And it was such a great feeling. Almost overwhelming.

His eyes were still glassy and watery.

In one motion, you pushed it all the way in, waiting for you to get used to it.

But for him, the inside of your pussy was too good…

He had his hands on the ropes.

His eyebrows furrowed.

You wiggled your hips a bit, feeling swollen cock dilate you so much.

You looked at his face and smiled.

His arms were shaking. You felt him pulsating inside you.

It felt so good to have him inside.

So big…

You smiled as you sat motionless on his cock.

You kissed his neck.

"You can come. I know you're sensitive."

You jumped on his thighs, making your tight walls stroke him. he was moaning.

"I'm letting you come. Then do it, my king." You pulled his hair up slightly. "I want your sperm."

At your dirty words, he shuddered.

"Use my permission while you can. You don't want me to stop touching you again, do you?" You kissed his jaw to kiss him later.

You move your hips back and forth.

After no more than a moment, he moaned into your mouth, and you felt large amounts of cum filling you intensely.

You pulled it half way out and then sat on it again. Letting him end up completely inside you.

The feeling of his hot cum filling you inside was very pleasant.

Placing your hands on his lap, you arched your back back, watching as his cum flowed out of you with your movement. Even though his softening length acts like a plug for you to keep his seed from flowing out.

He was sensitive to the heat inside you.

But he knew it would make him hard again.

And ready to let your pussy milk him to the last drop again.

"Why are you still throwing a knife at me?" He asked as he tilted his head to the side as a knife landed next to his head.

"Habit… I'm just more irritable…" you said sitting on the bed.

"The blade never hits, so I know you're not trying to kill me." He laughed.

He walked closer to you and offered you his hand.

"People are waiting. Do you have the strength to get up?" He asked protectively. "Would you like to go there?"

"If the people want it, as their queen, I guess I must." You grabbed his hand and stood next to him. "Maybe they finally want to burn me at the stake as a witch."

"Don't joke like that. They would never want to do that to you."

"That's right. I didn't do anything wrong to them."

"You are a great queen to them. Besides, we have to share this information with them sometime."

"You're right… I'm just not used to that kind of thing. But I wouldn't be surprised if they still hate me."

"It's been so long. After all, everything is so perfect. Nobody's going to want to do that to you." He smiled, placing his hand on your lower back. "Besides, in audiences people asked if you were well, because they hadn't seen you outside for a long time."

"Really?"

"You are a great queen to them. How could it be otherwise. Besides, there are lots of people waiting to see us. Did you know that the ill health of a king or queen makes people sad? When they feel devoted to the ruler like those here, they don't play or anything until the ruler recovers. So everyone wants to know what's going on with you. So many times they asked Shoko when she went to visit you what was going on."

"Even as a medic, she didn't tell anyone?" You asked, grabbing his hand as you walked beside him.

"A secret is a secret. But it's best to finally talk about it." He chuckled softly. "If they ever find out anyway, better sooner than later. To avoid controversy among people. After all, not everyone can accept a secret that is still hidden."

"You won…" You smiled at him.

Your dark blue dress was picked up by him as you walk down the stairs next to him.

"Or maybe they want to burn me at the stake?" You asked laughing as you heard people clapping and shouting as the man said you were leaving.

"Does it sound like they want to do this? I hope you'll eventually get used to this kind of love people show."

You went out with him to the low terrace in front of the courtyard where the people had gathered.

When they saw you, they cheered.

Especially when your husband stood behind you, placing his hands on your belly visible under the dress.

[sebscore]

I saw you mentioned Pierre and Charles babysitting a young leclerc sister? Can I request an imagine of that? Them being about 17 and 18, reader being a toddler? Thank you! Love your work.

YOU CAN'T SAY THAT WORD | CHARLES LECLERC & PIERRE GASLY

pairings: charles leclerc x sister!reader / pierre gasly x leclerc!reader

warnings: swearing. piarles are horrible babysitters. charles and pierre are teenagers in this for plot purposes.

author's note: this is heavily inspired by modern family, btw. thank you so much for the request! I hope you enjoy this fic and let me know what you think of it!

• • • • • • •

''Sorry, I know this isn't what we had planned for tonight.'' Charles apologized as he and Pierre settled into his living room. The Frenchman chuckled, not very amused. ''No, this is not what I had imagined.''

''It's the only way my parents would let me keep the house to ourselves.'' The teenager explained, looking down at the toddler sitting on her playmat.

It had been more difficult than expected for Charles to persuade his parents to let him and his friend be by themselves for the day. The truth was that Charles' parents didn't fully trust the teenagers to be left alone without any kind of supervision. However, Charles had been very adamant that he could be responsible and keep the house intact. So, his parents let him have his friend over on one condition: that they babysit the youngest Leclerc sibling.

Pierre patted Charles' back. ''It's okay, Charlito! It can be fun, right?''

''Yeah,'' he sighed out of relief, happy his best friend didn't want to leave, ''we'll play with her for a bit and tire her out, then she'll sleep easier.'' Charles loved his little sister more than anything, but he still wanted some guy time.

''Hey, Little Leclerc! You still know me, right? What's my name?'' Pierre sat himself down next to the toddler who was playing with her Barbie dolls.

She looked up at him, a bright smile covering her face once she noticed who it was. ''Gasly!'' Y/N screamed, making the two young men laugh. ''No, no, no! It's Pierre, Y/N! Pierre.'' He clearly articulated his name in hope she repeated it back to him.

''Gasly!''

''Pierre.''

''Gasly!''

''Pie- Oh, whatever,'' he sighed loudly, giving up on trying, ''should we play some Xbox? We haven't played in a while.'' Pierre suggested, his attention back to Charles.

The younger one nodded his head, moving to grab his two controllers. ''Mario Kart?'' The Monégasque smirked, already knowing the answer. ''What else would we play?'' Pierre got up from the ground and took a seat on the couch.

Charles sat down next to him, getting the game started. ''I beat you last time, remember?'' He grinned, recalling the previous time they played and Charles had won, much to Pierre's dismay.

''I'm ready for revenge, Leclerc.'' The older one stated, raising his eyebrow.

Before they could play against each other, they had to choose a character that would represent them in the race. ''Who are you choosing?'' Charles asked Pierre as they frequently switched up their avatars.

''Peachy Peachy!'' Y/N exclaimed, pointing with her small hands to Princess Peach who appeared on the tv screen.

Both boys chuckled at the girl's excitement. ''You want me to be Princess Peach, Y/N?'' Pierre asked her, lingering on the female character. The toddler babbled some inaudible words, but it was obvious what her answer was.

''Charlie, Daisy! Daisy!'' She focused her attention on her brother, who was about to choose Mario as his character. Y/N walked up to him, slapping her hands on his knees. ''You Daisy, Charlie!''

Charles glanced at an amused Pierre, who shrugged his shoulders. ''We can always change characters, Leclerc.''

''Okay, I'll be Daisy then.'' He gave in, a bright smile covering his face as his little sister started clapping her hands and stomping her feet, because of the overwhelming excitement she was feeling.

The babysitting gig was going well so far. Y/N plopped herself down on her mat and patiently watched the screen as the two guys raced against each other. She would clap for either of them whenever someone won or she would enthusiastically jump with them.

Charles was running in P1 until Pierre passed him in the last second and pushed him into the walls, making him come in last as everyone overtook him. ''Putain, Gasly!'' As soon as the words left the Monégasque's mouth, their eyes widened and immediately went to the little girl sitting in front of them.

''Maybe she didn't hear,'' Pierre whispered, making sure the little one wouldn't be able to hear them, ''just move on like nothing happened.''

''Hey, Y/N,'' Charles called her over to him, ''you want to play with me against Pierre?'' A wave of relief went through him as his sister jumped up at his words, pleased that she didn't start repeating the curse word.

He picked her up by her underarms and planted her on his lap. Charles trapped his sister between his arms, so she could grab the controller and play along with them, although he was practically doing all of the work.

Pierre let the Leclerc siblings have the win in the first round, knowing it would make the girl happy. ''You're so good, Y/N! You're better than both of us!'' He complimented her, booping her nose.

All was well, until Pierre used one of the red and green shells, and threw it at their character, making their Princess Daisy avatar spin around and lose their first place position. ''Putain, Gasly!'' Y/N repeated her brother's words, having it heard loud and clear before.

All the tension that had left came right back to smack the two boys in the face. They slowly glanced from the girl to each other, seeing a flush of panic in each other's eyes.

''Uh, Y/N? Go grab your crayons and coloring book, we'll draw together, okay?'' Charles spoke up, coloring being the first distraction that came into mind.

She adamantly nodded her head, excited at the thought of the three of them doing something together again. ''Okay.''

As soon as she was out of sight, Charles looked with wide eyes at his friend. ''I'm in so much trouble.'' His hand flew through his hair, frustration visible on his face.

''As long as she doesn't say it in front of your parents it's okay, Charles.'' Pierre tried to calm him down.

''That's the thing, she's learned something new and every time she learns something new, she wants to show it off to mum and dad.'' He explained, pretty confident that his sister would say the word when his parents got back home. ''They're not going to be thrilled that their 4 year-old daughter is saying curse words.''

Pierre thought for a moment. ''We can just explain to her that she can't say that word? She's very smart, she'll understand.''

As if on cue, the toddler hopped back into the living room while holding her box of crayons and several coloring books. Y/N put everything on the dining table, standing on her tippy toes and took a seat on her chair. She started coloring right away, not waiting for the two older guys that were still seated on the couch.

''Alright, we'll explain it to her.'' Charles agreed to Pierre's idea. They got up from their seats, put the controllers away and joined the girl at the table. ''Y/N, we have to talk to you about that word you said earlier.'' Her brother started off.

''What word?'' She looked up from her butterfly drawing.

Pierre shot Charles a warning look as if to say ''don't be dumb and repeat it''. The Monégasque got the hint and nodded. ''The one while we were gaming, the one that starts with p.''

''Peachy?''

''No.''

''Pierre?''

''You do know my name!'' He exclaimed, it was the first time she properly pronounced his name. ''But no, not that one.''

Maybe she doesn't remember, Charles thought to himself. He glanced at Pierre who simply shrugged his shoulders, he seemed to be thinking the same thing.

''Oh, you mean 'putain'?'' Y/N said the word again, the innocent and pure tone in her voice almost not making it sound like a curse word. Pierre had a hard time not bursting out in laughter, it just sounded super adorable coming from the little girl.

Charles was shooting daggers at his friend with his eyes, they had to look serious. ''That's a bad word, okay? You can't say that anymore.'' He told her, getting on her eye-level.

''But you said it?'' Her confused expression was difficult not to swoon over, but they both had to be strong.

''I shouldn't have said that, that was really bad of me,'' Charles clarified for her, ''we're not allowed to say it, okay?'' He had an hopeful glance in his eyes.

Y/N glimpsed over at Pierre, his hands covering his face to try to hide his laughter. ''But it's making him laugh, Charlie! Why is he laughing if it's a bad word?'' She asked her older brother, not understanding it.

''Pierre shouldn't be laughing.'' Charles semi-scolded his friend.

The man in question scratched his throat. ''Your brother is right, it's not funny and I shouldn't be laughing, Y/N.'' He tried to sound stern.

The small girl simply laughed in their faces and got away from the table, running back upstairs to her room. ''We're not joking, Y/N Pascale Leclerc!'' Charles yelled.

''She thinks we're not being serious.'' He sighed to Pierre, letting his head drop onto the table.

Pierre chuckled. ''Well, are we being serious?'' Charles rolled his eyes at the Frenchman's words. ''Hey, come on,'' Pierre patted Charles' head, making the younger one look up, ''we're just gonna drop it, alright? By the time our parents get back, she'll have forgotten all about it, you know small kids.''

''Yeah, you're right.'' Pierre's assurance brought him some comfort about the situation, kids get distracted easily. They don't have anything to worry about.

The rest of the day went by quite smoothly. Y/N took a long nap after they played some football in the garden, so the two boys could play some more non-toddler-friendly games on the Xbox. Once Y/N had woken up, they ordered pizza and despite his mother drilling into him that she couldn't have any fast food, Charles let the girl have a few bites.

The three of them were laying on the couch watching 'Cars', when their parents returned home. ''We're back, mes chéries!'' Pascale, Charles and Y/N's mother, greeted them.

Y/N jumped up from Charles' lap, running into her mother's arms. ''Maman! I won against Pierre in Mario Kart!'' She bragged to her, a beaming smile on her face.

''Really? You had fun with the boys?'' She asked, subtly looking around the living room looking for anything that indicated they had caused trouble, but she found nothing.

''Yes!'' Y/N adamantly nodded, making everyone around her laugh.

Hervé had taken notice of the empty pizza boxes in the kitchen. ''Did you enjoy the pizzas? I hope you didn't give anything to your sister, Charles.''

Charles shook his head. ''She didn't have pizza, Papa.'' He lied.

''Chérie, what did you eat tonight?'' Her mother asked her, not entirely convinced by her son's answer.

The young girl glanced at the two teenagers before replying. ''I had pasta and Charlie gave me a lollypop after we played in the garden.'' She made sure to use her bambi eyes, knowing it worked on her parents and brothers every time she made that cute face.

''That's good, mon amour!'' Her mum hugged her, winking at Charles behind her daughter's back.

''We're gonna take off then, we have quite the trip back home.'' Pierre's mother, Pascale, signaled for her son to get up from the couch and to bid goodbye to everyone.

Pierre sighed, but stood up. ''Thank you so much for having me over, it was really fun.'' He thanked Charles' parents. Hervé hugged the boy, while Pascale ruffled his hair as she was still holding the toddler in her arms.

''Bye, Little Leclerc! I'll get revenge on you next time we play Mario Kart, alright?'' He crouched down a bit to be eye-to-eye with the girl. She nodded and the two high-fived.

Everyone moved to the hallway, waiting for Pierre to put on his shoes, so the Gasly Family could start their journey back to France.

''Maman?'' Y/N whispered in her mother's ear, covering her mouth with her hand.

''Yes?''

''Why does Pierre look sad?'' The young boy was disappointed that the day with his best friend was already over, even though they would be seeing each other in a few days.

Her mum chuckled, endeared by her daughter's observations. ''He had a nice time here, so he's a little sad that he has to go home.'' Pascale explained, whispering back.

Pierre and his parents were almost out the door when Y/N came up with her masterplan to make the older boy laugh and cheer him up. ''Pierre! Pierre!'' She yelled, grabbing everyone's attention.

''Putain!''

The silence in the hallway didn't last long as all the parents burst out laughing at the unexpected words that left the girl's mouth. Charles and Pierre, who looked like they had seen a ghost, slowly let the situation sink in and laughed along with them. They were mostly smiling out of relief that their parents could see the humor in it.

''Alright, goodbye, everyone!'' The Gasly's bid them goodbye one last time before disappearing from their sight.

Charles continued smiling until his father closed their front door and turned around, a serious look on his face contrasting the laughing one from before. ''I gotta go.'' He swiftly moved away from the hallway to the living room.

''Charles Marc Hervé Perceval Leclerc!''

[folklaur21]

What would've should've been

Pairing: Theodore Nott x fem!ravenclaw!reader

Summary: Theodore Nott didn't truly know what love felt like until he found you. But now all he can do is sit and imagine what should've been.

Warnings: Mentions of death/killing, Battle of Hogwarts, use of Y/N

Word Count: 2.3k

Before You

Theodore Nott isn't the happiest person in the world. Scratch that, he might be the most subdued, emotionally complex guy to have ever existed. Hardly anything made him smile, next to nothing made him laugh. That's just how he was, is, and how he will always be.

It isn't completely his fault. People are never born 'sad' or 'emotionless'. Theo was brought up this way. It was ingrained into him as a child, silently impacting his life forever, and he didn't even realise it. Well, that was until his mother died. At the hands of his father.

Theodore's mother was a gentle soul. Sweet and caring, she always looked after her son. She gave him everything a child needed, wanted, and then some. The one thing she couldn't provide for Theo? A stable father, who wasn't an alcoholic, abusive pig. Though she did try, the fear she had of Theodore's father never ceased throughout their marriage. She just had to try to shelter Theodore from this cold, uncaring lifestyle.

She could only protect her son so much. When Theodore was just nine years old, she couldn't take the abuse from his father anymore. So she tried to escape. From her house, from her husband, from her life. Yet she failed. And he found out. Theodore Nott Sr. was not happy with this. So he did the only thing that he thought could ease his troubles. He killed his wife. The mother of his child. The child that had heard the Unforgiveable Curse uttered from his father's lips. The child who watched the flash of green light emitted from his father's wand. The child who had to watch his own mother, the only person who truly cared for him, die.

When he started Hogwarts, Theodore wanted a somewhat fresh start. Free from the burdens of his home life, he made friends.(Arguably, they were friends who his father would have approved of. If his father even cared.) At school, Theodore worked hard, and tried to mask the emotions he had always been told to oppress. Anger. Hatred. Vulnerability. So none of his friends truly knew what his life was like. Except for Lorenzo.

Theo told Enzo Berkshire everything. It was easier, having someone understand why you were like you were. Someone who you trusted with your deepest, darkest secrets. Someone who cared about you. That's how the two became best friends. Practically inseparable, 24/7.

During You

Having a connection with someone was something Theodore didn't truly seek throughout his lifetime. Especially now, in his fourth year at Hogwarts. Apart from Enzo, he was fine with keeping to himself, keeping a low profile and staying out of everyone's way. That was, until he saw you.

"Enzo, I don't want to go."

"Please, Theo, I want you to come. I'll be lonely without you." Enzo pleaded with his friend.

"I don't want to go to the Yule Ball. And besides, I didn't ask anyone to go with me." Theodore replied, still resisting the idea.

"So? No-one really cares if you're with someone or not. It's supposed to be fun." Enzo says with a sigh as he flops down next to Theo on his bed.

Theo scoffs. "Says you! How many girls asked you to go with them? 15?"

Lorenzo turns slightly pink at his friend's comment. "23..."

Theo lets out an exasperated sigh. "Exactly," Theo says, but after a moment he decides, "I will go to the ball with you Enz. Only because it's that, or sit around here or in the common room with all the first years."

So, that was how he ended up standing at the side of the Great Hall, sipping a glass of pumpkin juice, and watching all of his friends dancing with whoever they brought to the Ball. Theo didn't really mind. Once again, he was merely waiting in the wings, not really expecting anything grand to happen to him. At least, that's what he thought would happen. Until he saw you.

You were with some of your friends on the dancefloor. Laughing and smiling, you were carefree, living your life to it's full potential. Theo couldn't bear to take his eyes off of you. It's not like you would have seen him anyway, with him lurking in the shadows.

After he had spent what felt like forever watching you, Enzo came to his friend's side, offering a new glass of pumpkin juice, which Theo gladly accepted.

"Who's that?" Theo asked his friend, nodding his head in your direction.

"That's Y/N. Y/L/N I think. She's in Ravenclaw. She's actually quite clever, I sat next to her in arithmancy last year." Enzo pauses for a second. "Why do you want to know?"

"I don't know," Theo shrugs, nonchalant. "I just... don't remember seeing her before, that's all."

"Oh. Well, she's really kind. And sweet." Enzo smiles before rushing of again to resume dancing, leaving Theo to mull over his thoughts. Thoughts of you.

A week later, whilst sat in Potions, Theodore couldn't help but watch you, sitting across from him in the classroom. Strange. He had never noticed you before, but now it seemed you were the only thing plaguing his mind. He hardly took any notice of Professor Snape that lesson, watching you as you took notes with your brow furrowed, and how you twirled your quill around in your fingertips if you seemed distracted.

Over the next few weeks, Theodore Nott grew to know lots about you, even if you didn't yet realise it. He knew your favourite subject (Charms), your favourite sweets from Honeydukes (Chocolate Frogs, because you collected the cards). He even knew how you liked to spend your Sundays (sat in the courtyard with a book and a hot chocolate). Theo was drawn to you, for some unknown reason, and not even he could figure out why.

In the weeks leading up to your exams, you spent an increasing amount of time in the library, studying. Funnily enough, so did Theodore. He wanted to do well academically, even if his friends preferred skiving off and messing with first years. So, that was how he came to speak to you for the first time, five whole months after he was first captivated by you.

"Can I sit here? All the other tables are either occupied or slightly sticky and I don't want to mess up my books"

"Uhh, sure!" Theodore said, shocked that you had even come over to him. "No," he told himself. "She's only over here because nowhere else was free. Don't get your hopes up."

"I'm Y/N, by the way." You smile at him, and wave your wand to get your books laid out on the desk in front of you.

"Theodore. But you can call me Theo." Theodore said, as he found himself smiling in return.

The two of you started to talk about anything and everything; school, exams, your hobbies, interests, just your lives in general. And that's how Theo realised that, maybe he wasn't such a cold, uncaring teenager after all.

A week or so later, the two of you were sat under the shade of an oak tree overlooking the Black Lake, studying for, you guessed it, exams. That moment was when Theo finally plucked up enough courage to ask you something.

"Hey, Y/N?" he asked, taking a deep breath.

"What?" you replied, looking up from your book.

"I was wondering, would you maybe like to, and it's OK if you don't, I don't mind, you don't have to say yes or anything because it's completely your choice-"

"Spit it out, Theo!" you giggled, humoured by his rambling.

"Right. Sorry." Theo said, trying to calm himself down. "Umm, would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me next weekend? And could we possibly go to the Three Broomsticks? You know, just... us?"

Your eyes widened, before you smiled at the boy's worried expression. "Of course! Theo I'd love to."

You wrapped your arms around him and gave him a small kiss on the cheek before returning to your book, leaving Theodore grinning as if he'd just won the lottery. Which, with you, he basically had.

After You

It had been a while since Theodore Nott had been back at Hogwarts. Since he had gotten the Dark Mark, at his father's force, he had stayed working for The Dark Lord, being a Death Eater. He hated it. It was a life his father had forced him into, a life which wasn't truly his. And now he was back at the one place which had been a home to him, but now he was here to destroy it.

Theo tried to look for you. The one person who he trusted, and the one person who trusted him. Theo wasn't here to fight. He wasn't here to kill. He couldn't do that here. His safe place, where his father couldn't physically torture him. Where you were.

Before his sixth year at Hogwarts, Theo was held under the Imperius curse by his father, and the searing skull tattoo, the tattoo that would hurt him forever, was imprinted into his left arm. When school started again, he couldn't bear to tell you, his girlfriend, what had happened. But he did, because between you two, there were no secrets. When you found out, all you were was supportive. You helped Theo though his pain and anguish, but what he didn't know is that when you first found out, you cried for hours. Crying about his future, your future, angry at the world you live in for being so cruel. Crying was really the only thing you could do.

After Dumbledore's death, Theodore did what he thought would be best for your relationship, best for you.

"You can't be serious, Theodore?" you said, trying to keep your voice levelled and clear, holding back the tears.

That hurt Theo. You never called him Theodore, unless you were really frustrated. Which hadn't happened until now. "Y/N please, I have to, it's for your safety."

"My SAFETY? Theo, I couldn't care less about that right now. Please, don't do this." You couldn't hold back any longer. The tears were now streaming down your face.

"I don't want to, but-"

"But what, Theo? I love you!"

"I love you too, but-"

"Then surely that's all that matter?" you say, exasperated. "We love each other. We can run away together, and live in hiding until it's safe for us to come out, to be together."

"No, we can't, you know we can't, we'll be found and then... you'd... You'd be killed." Theo says in a small voice. "And I can't let that happen to you. Please, Y/N, just listen to me. As soon as this is over, we can get back together. We can live together, start over together. But it can't happen now. Not yet. Please, Y/N, wait for me."

You can't stop crying now, and you lean over to Theo and kiss him. "OK. When it's all over. I'll be waiting for you, Theo. You'll definitely come back to me?"

"Of course I will, Y/N. I promise I'll find you."

And of course, that's what he was currently doing. Looking for you. He had been waiting a year to see your face again, hoping you hadn't forgotten about him. However now he couldn't find you. Running through the corridors, shouting you name, dodging curses and rubble, Theo's only goal was to find you. And he did.

There you were at the top of the Astronomy tower, a split lip and wearing a torn blue jumper, you were aiming all sorts of hexes at a Death Eater. Theo was so relieved, and began firing spells at your opponent, until he was knocked unconscious. At that point, Theo kicked the limp body over the balcony, not caring what would happen.

"Y/N." Theo smiled. "I told you I'd come back."

You pulled Theo into a hug and kissed him. "Theo!" you breathed.

"I love you more than anything, Y/N." All Theo could do was look into your bright, tearful eyes, relieved that he could see you once again before-

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

That fateful curse.

A flash of green light.

Your body fell limp in Theo's arms.

Your eyes lost their brightness.

"NO!"

Theo tried to pull you up, tried to hold you tight, but it was no use. You were gone. Theo looked up to see your murderer, looking him in the eyes. His father.

Your death at the hands of Nott Sr. ensured Nott Sr.'s death at the hands of his son. That was the first and last time that Theodore Nott would ever use the killing curse, and it only made sense for it to be on the person that used it on the two people who he had loved most in the world.

When the Battle of Hogwarts was over, most of Voldemort's supporters were dead, captured, or had fled the scene when it was evident that they were losing. But two Death Eaters stayed behind, simply because they couldn't bear to leave the castle like this. They felt it was partly their fault. Those two Death Eaters were Theodore Nott and Lorenzo Berkshire.

Whilst everyone gathered in the Great Hall, Enzo wandered the, now ruined, corridors of a place he loved so dearly. What he didn't expect to find his best friend, leaning on the crumbled wall of the Astronomy tower, cradling someone in his arms. Not to mention the fact that his father lay on the ground mere feet away.

"Please, Y/N, you can't be dead, you can't. I came back for you I-"

"Theo?" Enzo inquired, sitting on the floor next to his best friend, who was in fits of tears.

"He killed her, Enz. He killed her so- So I killed him. I had to."

"It's OK, Theo." Enzo replied, putting an arm around his friend's shoulder, and letting him cry.

The pair fell into a comfortable silence, with the sound of everyone in the castle talking and grieving the loss of friends and family. The two could have been down there with them, celebrating the demise of the people who made their lives hell.

But instead, all Theodore Nott could think about is what should've been.

[elsaellaelys]

Reader is insecure about Kie cuz JJ used to like her but he's determined to show her he's obsessed with her. Like making her cum and squirt so many times until she knows how in love with her he is

Reassure

Summary: requested.

WARNINGS: 18+ content

Pairing: JJ Maybank x fem!gf!reader

a/n: It's being sooo long, right? Loved your request anon, gave me something to think about for sure. Any more requests? I'm baack.

--★--

It was no secret JJ liked Kiara and she dumped him. Y/N was there when it happened, she stood beside him all the time, before and through it, always so sweet and caring, so patient even with JJ's reckless choices. Slowly he started to realize what was right in front of him, her pretty shine eyes and hair, the soft way her hands lie in his arms. One day he just kissed her, out of the blue, the thought felt so right in his head, more when he did it. Her soft lips felt so hot and heavenly against his. And she melted on his arms. Y/N remembered this now and wondered if JJ didn't committed a mistake out of confusion, cause he's being too attentive towards Kiara, helping her get into the boat, handing her beers, smiling so... Urgh! Her insecurity had her overthinking if he didn't stopped liking Kie, if he used her just to keep himself busy, if she was enough compared to Kie...

"Y/N? Babe? You're coming?" JJ's voice brought her back from her thoughts as he hold the Twinkie's back door waiting for her to come out.

"Yeah." She followed him to The Wreck, practically Kiara's restaurant, the pogues all sitted to eat like the old times and Y/N remembered of when she used to secretly worship JJ and he only had eyes to Kiara, she couldn't help, but look at him holping that he would catch it and praise her out of her mind. He was laughing with the Pogues though and she felt weak on the heart, she got up and mumbled about going to the bathroom. In that second JJ knew something was up, didn't waited a second before following her, entering the bathroom right behind her.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." She shrugged, wetting her face in the sink. He hugged her from her back, snugging his face on her neck.

"Come ooon, princess. Tell me, I'll make it better." JJ reasured her, peppering kisses on her skin, Y/N closed her eyes, sighing at the feeling of his lips. She trusted JJ's words more than everything.

He'll make it better...

"I just... Do you think I'm good for you?" She turned around to face him, paying close attention to his expressions, he looked confused, perplexed even.

"What? Of course you are. You're perfect. What type of question is that?"

She shrugged again, avoiding his gaze, hands playing with the collar of his shirt, too ashamed to admit being jealous of his ex, of their best friend. "Look at me, pretty thing." He smirked.

"You're so good. You're a good girl for me right?"

Y/N nodded, pleasing eyes up at him.

"Then sit on the sink." She furrowed her eyebrows, but his hands pulled her up by thighs.

"Wha-"

"Shh... You really want them to hear you? I bet you do, uhm?" He smirked, unbuttoning her jeans, easily sliding them down along with her panties. "Want them to know how fucking hot I think you are, how I'm so crazy for you I had to take you right here at the restaurant?"

Y/N was speechless, the way JJ was looking at her while spreading her legs and lowing his face to between them made her mouth dry.

"You wanna feel better?" He asked, kissing her inner thighs, she could only nod, opening her legs to give him more space. JJ grinned widely. "Good girl." He praised, straight liking her pussy.

She immediately opened her mouth in a silent moan, toes curling and finger gripping the edge of the sink and a handful of his hair, beautiful blonde hair, way too long, and she remembered of when he said he was going let it grown because she liked it longer. How could she even consider the idea that this guy wasn't fully in love with her? He sucked, licked and twirled his tongue, her head was tilting back and her body arched as she tried to keep her legs spread for him. JJ looked up to her, hands going up to massage her breasts over her shirt, he pulled away.

"Be a nice girl, princess." His fingers found their way to her aching cunt, two of them entering and teasing her sweet spot. "Cum for me, really good like only you know how to."

He forced his hand up and down in a rhythm that made Y/N bite her tongue, her lips shuting in a thin line to suppress her cries cause she was squirting and cumming all over her boyfriend's arm.

"That's it... fuuuck." He brush his cock against her thights through his jeans. When Y/N came down she was trembling, but JJ didn't seem to plan on stopping, his palm kept brushing on her clit and she couldn't take more.

"Please, please, wait-" She begged.

JJ chuckle and pouted mockinly "Wait? Wait what, princess?" He kissed her to keep her moans low when she cummed again, he feeling a wet spot on his boxers after moments of rubbing his tip. He groaned against her mouth, stopping his movements, both of them could burst in flames, the thrill of the rush growing too hot.

She laughed softly and he followed, realizing how teenage like all that felt.

"God... I love you so fucking much." He whispered against her mouth.

"I know." She said, feeling her words truly. "I love you too."

They left the bathroom not much later, leaving behind a discreet mess, sitting back with their friends, Pope squinted his eyes, a disgusted look on his face, but JJ brushed it off, handing Y/N a white milkshake, arm thrown over her shoulder as he kept his conversation normally. Y/N's lips wrapped around the straw with a shy smile, not admitting to herself how good it felt that all their friends knew what they did. JJ leaned to sweet talk in her ear.

"I'm taking you with me tonight. You have to do that again, princess, all over my face."

[oharababe]

why didn't you tell me; miguel o'hara

🕸️ premise: miguel notices that you’re not your usual self. it concerns him that the sunshine he knows you as is losing your light. he decides to get to the point of it and checks on you. 🕸️ tropes: tired sunshine reader, concern and strict miguel, light hurt/comfort 🕸️ pairing: miguel o'hara x fem. reader 🕸️ word count: 3,600 words

a/n; this piece is reposted from my old blog and originally was supposed to be in two parts. but i've decided to just combine them into one. this fic is a sign to make sure to include self-care in your routine! should have taken my own advice bc now my mental health is delincing. but i am slowly regaining my strength and forcing myself for self-care ♡

“Hey, do you think she’s alright?” 

Miguel glares at the young variants of Spider-People from the holographic screen. As the leader of the society, he’s expected to oversee things. The multiverse and Spider-People are in the building and on missions. He sees Miles, Gwen, Hobie and Pavitr in the hallways. Miguel assumes they're going to his office to deliver their mission logs from the mission he gave them. 

Miguel turns to look at the screen; there should be five of them coming back. He stares at the screen a little longer, red eyes hoping to glimpse a familiar figure. You are not with the young variants. 

Pavitr mentions your name and adds, “Perhaps she’s feeling unwell today.” 

“I don’t think I would use ‘unwell’ to describe her today,” Gwen says. “It’s more like she’s—”

“Angry?” Hobie guesses. “On edge? Like the way I would express my anger and hatred to the PMs and oppression of society?”

“Pretty much,” Gwen’s voice trails. “She seems more tired than she usually is. It’s not like her, you know?”

“Maybe we can get her something and check up on her after this.” Miles suggests. 

This shouldn’t surprise Miguel; the mission he gave you wasn’t an easy one. He assigned you to lead the team this time, trusting your abilities and judgement. Outcomes of every mission you come back from bring him neutrally satisfied and at ease. You’re usually the one who updates him about the mission. Hiding nothing from him, even with things that someone in your assigned team has done will make his blood boil. You’re a person Miguel relies on and trusts a lot. He depends on you to keep the multiverse safe, and depending on your presence, to remind him of what he’s fighting for. 

Hearing the young Spider-Heroes talk about your unusual behaviour keeps him attentive. He knows you. Well, everyone in the Alchemax building knows what you’re like. The bright and cheerful spider-heroine, your presence and energy, lightens the room. Everyone in the building would believe that you are a ray of sunshine in human form. Delightful to be around, and everyone comes to you because you give people some sort of comfort. You might as well be the Spider Society’s very own Spider-Sunshine. 

Miguel slowly descended at his preferred pace. He knows that the youngsters are coming to see him, but you’re not. It troubles him and hides it by being inquisitive; “Lyla, what’s the status of her? Has she been injured during the mission?” 

His holographic assistant appears next to him. “There hasn’t been a report of major injuries based on the mission’s footage.” 

“Is she still in the building?” 

“Yes, she is. In her room. She’s asked not to be disturbed.” 

“Miguel!” A female voice echoes. Miguel withholds himself from sighing at being interrupted to ask his assistant more. “We’re back.” 

“Reporting for duty!” Pavitr adds. 

Miguel turns around to see the younger Spider-Men and Spider-Gwen. Though the platform has reached its lowest stop, he’s still towering over the four of them. Looking at Miles, Gwen, Hobie and Pavitr from above. “Mission report?” 

“It’s all good, Miguel! We caught the anomaly as planned.”

“The clean-up team arrived on the scene and there were no casualties,” Gwen says. “Though I think I might have to check myself for a chiropractor.” She mumbles, and slowly rotates her right arm, touching her shoulder. 

“Hmph.” Miguel’s eyes bore mindless. Seeing there’s no sight of you irks him a little. After a few seconds of silence, he glances at the four of them. “How is she?”

“She?” Miles’ voice echoes. His eyes widen in realisation, probably because he’s intimidated by the way Miguel is glaring. “She’s uh… she’s okay. She just needs to recharge herself after a hard mission.” 

“Oh, and she said that she’ll send you the log missions,” Gwen says. 

“Good,” his response is simple. The air goes quiet, thoughts in his mind running at the thought of seeing you. Though you didn’t say how she would report back to him about the mission given you’ve retrieved as soon as you got back. “Will she be coming soon in person?”

“Don’t know about that.” Hobi glances. “It seems that she wants to be alone for the day.” 

Miguel lets out a dissatisfied hum. “Alright. You all may go now.” 

The young spider-heroes variants take their exit and soon the room belongs to him alone. 

He was hoping to see you after the mission. And, strangely, he hasn’t seen you in person for the day. The last communication he had with you was when he told you about putting you in charge of a mission to investigate and capture any anomalies in a different Earth multiverse. You sounded as fine as you normally are to him. 

Miguel thinks back to the conversation earlier, about your unusual behaviour. A part of him feels that you are almost acting closed off. Withdrawal. He knows that feeling all too well. “Lyla, are you sure no one was hurt during the mission?”

Lyla gives him an apologetic look and shakes her head. “Nothing, boss-man. Or else the medical team would report it in their system logs.” 

Suddenly there’s a look on her face; her eyes twinkling coyness as her smile widens into a grin. “Are you that worried about her, Miguel?” 

Miguel grumbles and looks away, hoping that his assistant doesn’t see his face twisting in annoyance and somewhat flustered. Today doesn’t seem to be his day that goes according to plans. His mind finds himself back to you again for the nth time. He hates to admit it, but he is concerned about you. Especially when the youngsters said. He just hopes that it’s just your tiredness that could be the reason for it. 

“If she hasn’t sent the mission logs by tomorrow, remind her again of it,” Miguel instructs. “And make today her day off. Make sure no one disturbs her until she’s ready.”

“Hey Miguel, Peter B. is on the call for you.”

Miguel didn’t bother to throw a glance at Lyla next to him. He is anticipating him to call him anyway. Peter is the team leader for the particular mission he was assigned to to save another dimension. “Put him through.”

Peter B’s hologram appears in front of him as Miguel keeps an eye on the surveillance. He can hear his friend’s voice without looking at him. “Hey, Miguel. The mission has gone well today. There’s a bit of damage control that needs to be sorted out, so could you call the Damage Control team?”

“What happened out there?” Miguel’s voice was stern. Even though he can see everything from the Spider Society, he wants to hear it himself from Peter Parker. He notices that a mishap happened that almost changed the canon event. Even though it didn't happen, Miguel couldn’t help but feel annoyance rising in him.

“Well,” he sees Peter touching the back of his neck. There’s hesitation in his expression as Peter glances at him once again. “We managed to dodge the bullet of what happened. You know, prevent the disruption of the canon events. But, Sunny has taken a bit too much at heart. I think she’s having a hard time, Miguel. It looks like she’s struggling.”

Miguel can’t help but raise a brow at him when Peter brings up your name. He tries to conceal the troubled expression on his face. Red eyes stare at Peter for an explanation. “What makes you say that?”

“Well, she’s not, you know, sunny. Not like herself.” Peter says.

Miguel is certain that this isn’t the first time he’s heard about you like that. He remembers the younger Spider-Heroes talking about you the way Peter is talking. About how you seem different. More withdrawn, and quiet, and he noticed that you weren’t as engaging as you usually are during missions. 

“Alright, thanks, Peter. The Damage Control team will be with you shortly.”

Peter B. nods then his hologram disappears. Miguel looks back at the surveillance footage and watches you on the screen. Swinging from one place to another and throwing punches and kicks at the enemy. You’re a fighter and a well-trained one too. But he notices something different about the way you carry yourself in the fights. It’s swift, aggressive, and full of anger from the movements of your body. Miguel has never seen you fight like that before. You look unstoppable. 

He needs to see you and have a word with you. 

* * * * *

The mission you were given annoys you greatly. 

Even though you and your teammates have captured another multiverse villain, you do not still feel well about it. You mess up on several things; the villain was close to escaping, a child who happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time almost got killed on the crime scene, and you snapped at one of your Spider teammates over the littlest things. Which you rarely do and you don’t usually do . 

But today you’re in all sorts of places and you hate it. 

The portal opens up to a familiar environment of the Spider Society HQ on Earth-928. You’re the first one to walk out, followed by your teammates. The heavy silence and brooding air feel too thick and you feel that you’re part of the cause for it. 

You walk into the headquarters intending to head towards a place that you’ve been frequently to the past few weeks. The training has become your haven to take out whatever you’re feeling. Except that with every punch, force, kick and flinging things around, you feel vexed—agitated and aggressive. And it’s been becoming more of that recently. 

You punch the bag harder. Faster. Harder and faster until you let the aggression take over you as you hit the bag simultaneously. Gritting your teeth as you focus on nothing but the urge to hit something.  

Bam, bam, bam! Why can’t you get your head in the game? 

“Hey, girl!” 

The bag hits you in the face and almost knocks you over. That snaps you from your torturing thoughts but you just want to be alone. You don’t bother looking at the person, recognising their voice. “Blowing off some steam?” Lyla says in a fun and playful tone. 

“What do you need, Lyla?” You ask, breathing shallowly. Your head spins a little – it’s been like that for a while – but you ignore the feeling. Thinking about what to beat up next. 

“Miguel wants to see you. He’s in the surveillance room.” 

You freeze when Lyla tells you that; he’s the last person you want to see right now. A gut feeling tells you that you know what this is all about and it doesn’t make it any better. You know you can’t avoid this especially if Miguel wants to see you. The week is getting worse for you. 

“Tell him that I’ll be there in thirty minutes.” You say, needing to take a shower and freshen up for another dreadful day for you. You glance at the holographic assistant. “How is he feeling today?”

“The usual– grumpy and serious.” Lyla nods. “Make haste then.” 

You let the cold water run down your skin and body. The time you spend in the shower did help you a little to mentally prepare yourself. When you’re done, you make your way to the surveillance room, where Miguel usually copes himself. The room starts dark but soon there are orange and red fluorescent lights emitting from the screen as you walk deeper into the room. 

Miguel has his back on you. His muscular, broad shoulders are the first thing you catch sight of as you enter his territory. You can never read Miguel and right this moment, you wish that you could. 

“Sunny.” 

You stay still, hearing your name being called out. Miguel’s voice booms in the large room. “What happened? A disruption of canon almost happened.” 

“I–” You begin, but nothing comes out of your mouth. You’re not sure how to explain yourself to him as you think back to what happened during the mission. Deep down, you know that you lost focus back there and nearly jeopardised the mission. And potentially the livelihood of others. “I’m sorry.” You lower your gaze, your voice like a whisper. 

“Don’t make the same mistake next time,” Miguel stearns. His red gaze feels sharp on your skin. His tone doesn’t help either and adds fuel to your unsettling emotions.  

“It won’t.” You glare at him. A tone of determination and subtle displeasure that you can’t help but feel. And yet, you have to keep your emotions in check or else you will be questioned. You feel yourself on thin ice with Miguel at this moment. 

The Spider-Man leader narrows his eyes down at you. You don’t look at him just yet but you can tell that he’s looking at you. Gawking at your body language. “Is there a problem?” Miguel asks. 

“It’s nothing.” You say once again. This time you look at him in the eye with a solemn stare. Hoping that he wouldn’t press on further. You just want to be left alone at this point and one of your hands starts to tremble slightly. With another beat of silence, you force yourself to speak up more, this time hoping that it would sound convincing. “I’ll do better next time.” 

Miguel could only look at you before he turned away. His back is facing you. “You can leave. And I want you to send over your report of what happened.” 

You didn’t say anything more, only giving him a nod. And you leave the room feeling even worse than before with a pounding headache and palpating heart. 

* * * * *

Your behaviour certainly sets him off. 

Miguel couldn’t stop thinking about the conversation he had with you earlier. Something is off with you. He thinks about what Peter B. had said to him earlier and he’s starting to see what the man means. His thoughts dwell further back to a week ago when the young Spider-Heroes also talked about their concerns about you. He can see that something is bothering you and that it’s affecting your job. 

But Miguel knows that it’s better not to ask until he gathers more information on why you could be acting this way. 

After spending a couple more hours in the surveillance room, Miguel decides to grab something to eat. He usually doesn’t go to the cafeteria when it is busy and packed. But today, he’s particularly in the mood to move around. And he can feel himself getting hungry for empanadas (he’s told that he gets hangry when he doesn't eat something). 

Miguel makes his way to the headquarters’ cafeteria, walking along the corridor. From a distance, he can hear the crowd of Spider-Heroes socialising. A couple of them notices him and greets Miguel as he joins the queue to be served. He waits in the line as he minds his own business in mental peace as much as possible. But that’s when he hears a commotion nearby and Miguel turns to look at the scene happening in front of him. 

“Goodness, darling!” Jess frowns. She says your name softly and holds your arms. Her voice laced with worry, “I think you’re having a burnout.” 

Miguel goes still. His red eyes gaze at you from afar, looking at your reaction closely. There is fatigue on your face and your eyes don’t shine like they used to. Your shallow breaths and they sound deep and heavy. His eyes stay on you. Miguel watches as she holds onto your arms to help keep you steady.

You exhale a sigh, brows furrowed a bit. He can see how you’re trying to brush off the worry. “I’m fine. Just didn’t get much sleep last night.” 

“Make sure you get a proper rest,” Jess tells you. “Take a day off for today.” 

You let yourself go from her grip and only nod. But Miguel knows that you would do the opposite of the suggestion. He’s been there before, especially when he first started out learning about the dire consequences of the Multiverse. He knows the signs of burnout too well and you are certainly demonstrating it. Miguel curses under his breath for not picking up the signs of your struggle– of your burnout when he spoke to you earlier. It was right there in front of him and it went under his radar. 

He watches you leave the cafeteria once the other Spider-Heroes have decided to move on with themselves. You blend in the crowd before disappearing out of sight. His eyes met Jess Drew who was looking at him with a sympathetic expression when their eyes met. You’ve kept quiet about your feelings or whatever you’re going through from everyone. It seems that you don’t wish to talk about it– the dismissive attitude and withdrawn answers. He knows what Jess is trying to tell him. 

Miguel nods in agreement. And he leaves the cafeteria, trailing behind you. He follows you back to your universe when he sets the coordinates to your Earth. A part of him tells him that what he’s doing is out of line. But he tells himself that it’s fine; he’s only doing this to look out for you. That’s what a leader is supposed to do— to check on their subordinates, even though you’re more than that to him. But that’s not the point. 

Miguel continues to stay on his trail behind you. He sees that you’ve gone inside a red-bricked building. He swings himself up to the roof of the building, watching you through the glass roof. There’s no one in the building but you and Miguel spot you walking towards the ringer in the centre of the room. The banging sound of a bag being punched by you echoes in the space. He notices how you seem to take off steam by letting out your physical aggression since this is your second time in the gym. Your punches become faster, so frequent that they ring in his ears a little. 

Miguel sneaks into the building through an open window. You’re still focused on your punches and kicks but knowing that you have spider senses, you must have noticed his presence by now. He sees you break a sweat from the combat exercise as Miguel approaches the boxing ring. He lets you continue throwing punches until you come to a stop and catch your breath. Miguel studies your expression and body language. “Why didn’t you tell me that you were struggling?” 

You stay silent, seemingly lost in your thoughts. Your tone sounds soft and vulnerable, almost hesitant too. But it’s still loud enough for him to hear. “I didn't want it to determine my worth. Or to have it determine my future. If people knew, it would seem as if I'm holding everyone back.” 

Miguel can see in your eyes that you’re pushing yourself despite the neutral facade you put on. The daze looks with the ambitious, strong and tough facade in your eyes. It’s familiar to him because he is like that too.“I would be a liability to the team.” 

He studies your face a little longer, the signs of fatigue and shallow breathing are apparent. You’re even fighting against yourself to keep your eyes open. Scrunching your face as you pinch the bridge of your nose whilst softly panting for air. Shaking off the fatigue, the brain fog. 

“Mariposa tonta.” Miguel sighs. “You’re not a liability to the team. You never were one.” 

You sit on the ground and lean back against the ropes of the ring area. You’re too tired to pretend, too tired to put on a mask that you’re not okay. Your mind spirals in thoughts of self-loathing at how pathetic you look in front of Miguel. You try to hide your face from Miguel by looking down, not wanting him to see your current state. You feel pathetic in front of him. 

“Lyla, put my alerts to ‘do not disturb mode’ unless it’s a live emergency of the multiverse,” Miguel says. 

“Roger that,” Lyla responded. Her physical form materialises nearby with a worried look on her face. “Should I call for the medical team as well?” 

“No need, I'll take it from here.” 

You push yourself up to stand on your feet the second a shadow towers towards you. Your head may be spinning but you still have the capacity and energy to muster whatever thoughts you have. “I don't need help, Miguel.” 

The harsh, cold tone that you jab doesn’t phase him. Knowing that it only comes in a place of stress and guarding your feelings. Miguel remains patient with you, putting on a neutral yet there’s a subtle empathy in his red eyes. “You may think that you don’t need the help, but I want to.” 

You see Miguel holds out his hand in front of you. The mask on him is gone and his red eyes are staring down at you. “Take it one day at a time.” 

His words bring a sense of solace that warms up your heart. You finally take his hand – taking on his offer – your fingers and his interlaced together. You stand up on your feet as Miguel pulls you up, neither of the both of you letting go. 

“Thank you.” You whisper. “For not judging me. Or pushing aside my feelings. ” 

“I’ll take care of you, whether you like it or not.” Miguel tells you in a stern tone. But there’s a hint of soft affection in his words. “I promise.”

TAGLIST gang: @99matterss @tojishugetiddies permanent taglist for more miguel o'hara fics.

[vanwritesfan-fiction]

Safe and Sound

Jack Harlow Masterlist

Request: I really like the idea that Jack always leaves his girl in the "care" of one of his inner circle whenever he gets pulled away at an event. Like he's gotta go on stage or go to another area of the venue and she can't come, so gets his good luck kiss and when he says bye to Like Clay or Urban, he just whispers in his ear "keep an eye on her" or "keep her close" or "watch out for my girl". Like she probably doesn't even know that he does it, and that's kinda what makes it all the more heart warming. Like yes, the area is private and there's probably security around, but the fact that when he can't physically be there to protect her, he turns to his best friend or brother to keep the most important person in his life safe.

Warnings: language

For as long as Jack could remember, the only thing he wanted to be was a rapper. He ate, slept, and breathed music for over a decade trying to make a name for himself, and while it took a while, everything he poured into himself and his career came back to him tenfold, and sometimes he couldn't believe how lucky he was. The good: amazing fans, financial security, and getting to live his dream definitely outweighed the bad, so he took everything in stride.

There were definitely times where he wished he could leave the house without being recognized, or didn't have a security team on his heels wherever he went, but that was the name of the game, and he'd make the sacrifice over and over again to be where he is now.

He didn't hold the same expectations for the ones that he loved, though.

While his friends and family understood that Jack Harlow was no longer just a kid from Louisville, and their lives were going to change along with his, Jack wasn't willing to put them in harms way for his sake. He could deal with the crazy fans, the big crowds of people, and the lack of privacy, because that's what he signed up for, but his people were off limits.

It also meant that the circle of people that he could trust was incredibly small, and honestly, he liked it that way. He knew that he could count on the people that stood to the left and the right of him, and that made all of the craziness a lot easier to deal with.

When you and Jack started dating, you were so caught up in the whirlwind of being in a relationship with someone you respected and cared for so much, you hardly noticed how much your life was changing. You'd never been with someone famous, let alone someone as famous as Jack, and while you were still getting used to the security team who accompanied you on some of your dates, waiting in the wings while you ate dinner or watched a movie, for the most part, your life was surprisingly normal. You were always a very headstrong person who valued their independence, and you were glad that your relationship allowed you to hold onto a semblance of control or Jack's lifestyle might have sent you running for the hills.

You thought it was a testament to the type of person Jack was and the life he led, down to earth and understated, but you had no idea how creative he had to get to keep you safe.

"What do you think of this top?" You twirled in front of your phone that you had propped up on your dresser, with Jack on FaceTime. He let out a long yawn before he narrowed his eyes to get a better look at the sheer blouse you were holding up to your form. "Looks good", he mumbled out, throwing himself on his hotel bed. It was only 8:15PM in Louisville, but 1:15AM in London where Jack currently was for work, and he was struggling to keep his eyes open while the two of you caught up on your days.

"Only good?", you asked as you gave it a second look in your mirror, a frown on your face. "I don't want to just look good tonight."

Jack ran a hand down his face as he let out a deep chuckle. "Ok, you look very good. Was that more convincing?"

"No", you answered curtly, tossing the top onto your bed before going back into your closet. You came back out wear a simple black sweater. "What about this one?"

"Uh, maybe just lift the bottom up a little bit." Jack directed you with his hand in an upward motion, and you lifted the shirt up around your belly button in a makeshift crop top. "Just a little more." You pulled the shirt over your bra, not quite understanding. "Jack, what are you doing?"

"Just a little bit more." You pulled it up over your head, your arms held up in the air. "Good now take it all the way off so I can see you without anything on." You let out a huff when you caught onto his joke, flipping him off in the camera. "You're an ass, you know that?" Jack could barely hear you over the roar of his own laughter, tickled with his own joke. "Where are you going anyway? I thought you were staying in tonight?" You could hear the apprehension in Jack's tone.

"Please, Jack, don't start." You let out a huff, knowing where he was going with this. "I'm going out with a couple of friends to a bar to celebrate Gigi's birthday, and then coming home, okay?" You had a run in with a crazed fan while out one night a couple of weeks ago, and while you were shaken up in the moment, the incident was long forgotten, in your mind at least. Jack was away from work, and the fact that he wasn't there to protect you, and you had no security around made his stomach turn.

"I can call Dave and he can be at your apartment in like 10 minutes. I'd feel a lot better if you let my security team go with you." Jack was trying his best not to be overprotective, but he couldn't help it when it came to you.

"And I'd feel a lot better if you trusted me." You gave him a pouty lip and he folded immediately, letting out a exasperated sigh. "Fine, but please text me when you get there and get back home, okay? Even if I don't answer right away."

"Okay promise. I love you, babe." You threw on a graphic tee and leather jacket before blowing a kiss to Jack, hanging up with him, and grabbing your purse to head out the door.

The bar was packed for a Thursday night, pop music blasting over the speakers as you made your way through the crowd, finding a table at the back of the room. You weren't scared to run into another fanatic, but you also wanted to play it safe, knowing it would give you and Jack piece of mind. You snapped a selfie of you and your friends and sent it off to Jack as confirmation you made it safe.

"Well look who it is!' You lowered your phone to see Urban and Clay smiling back at you, beers in both of their hands.

"What are you two doing here?", the inflection in your voice signifying your genuine confusion to see Jack's best friend and brother standing in front of you. You were very surprised to see them here, considering that a dive bar was neither of theirs scene.

"Can't two people enjoy a couple drinks at a bar on a Thursday night?" Urban slid into the booth next to you, wringling into his spot, Clay following in behind him.

"Two people, yes, you two, no. If I remember it correctly, you said "bars like this are contributing to the collapse of Louisville's culture." You held up your fingers in quotations. Urban went on a very long rant during dinner last month when you asked him if he knew of any knew any new places to go out downtown, and you hadn't brought it up since.

"I made him come out with me", Clay cut in, knowing you'd get the truth out of Urban sooner or later, "I was going stir crazy at home." He avoided eye contact with you, taking a swig of his drink.

You narrowed your eyes at both of them and they squirmed under your scrutiny, awkwardly shifting in place. You were incredibly intuitive and knew something else was going on, and Jack definitely had something to do with it. Something was off, and while you wanted to get to the bottom of it, this night wasn't about you, so you put it to the side until later, letting Urban and Clay join your group for the night.

Jack came home from London a couple days later, but was so wrapped up in prepping for his performance in New York, you didn't get the opportunity to ask him why his best friends just happened to be at the same location you were last week. You didn't want to assume he was sending his friends to check in with you, instead of just trusting you to be careful on your own, but it was just too much of a coincidence.

The night of the show you hung around the greenroom for a couple of hours while Jack was doing soundcheck and and running through last minute changes with his team. Jack had security posted at the door of his dressing room and didn't let anyone pass through the hallway where he was getting ready, but you didn't think much of it because that was protocol for him and his team's safety.

Clay and Urban found Jack as he was walking off the stage, Jack adjusting his in ear as he went through the motions of his performance in his head. The crowd was roaring behind them, growing impatient for the show to start.

"How did last week go?" Jack asked as soon as he spotted them.

"I don't know why you asked Urban to check in with Y/N, he's a terrible liar", Clay scoffed, earning an eye roll from the blonde. "I'm a terrible liar? Mr. "I can't make eye contact with her", Urban mocked Clay with exaggerated motions.

"Can you two stop it? I asked you to make sure she was safe, discreetly, but its obvious the two of you don't know what that means. What the hell am I paying you for?" Jack pulled at the collar of his shirt, the air around him stifling. Your safety was the only thing on his mind lately, and he couldn't focus on anything else.

"First of all, you're not paying us at all", Urban retorted, but Jack just sighed, pushing past them to go back to the dressing room. "And second of all, she's smart, man, its only a matter of time before she figures out you've got us going undercover. You should just hire a security team for her."

Jack leaned against the wall, letting a few crew members walk by before continuing. "I've tried that, but she is so damn stubborn, says she doesn't need security. She doesn't realize how important all of this is, the crazy fan approaching her was just the tip of the iceberg. You guys have seen how wild people can be." Urban and Clay nodded in agreement, but it did nothing to calm Jack's nerves.

"Dude, just talk to her. Tell her how important the security team is, I'm sure she'll understand." Jack stroked at his jawline, watching as Neelam came rushing down the hallway. "Five minutes, Jack." You got up from your chair at the announcement to give Jack a good luck hug and kiss before he went on stage.

Jack lowered his voice to Urban and Clay so you couldn't hear him. "The two of you keep an eye on her tonight, okay? Don't let her out of your sight. I can't have anything happen to her."

Jack trusted his friend and brother with his life and knew they'd never let anything happen to you. He grabbed your hand as he pressed a kiss to your temple and you followed him out to the side stage.

Most of the way though the show, you could feel your voice start to go from yelling and cheering for Jack over the music. Urban was in the crowd getting some action shots, which left Clay to watch over you. He glanced over at where you were posted all night, as you started to walk back to the greenroom to grab a bottle of water. He intercepted you before you got past the curtain, stopping you in your tracks. "What's up? Going somewhere?"

"Just gonna grab some water really quick." You motioned to your dry throat.

"Uh, I'll have someone get it for you." He looked around for a PA.

"Clay, its fine, I can get my own water", you chuckled, gently pushing past him. "Cool, cool! I'll join you, I could use some water too."

"Okay, you're being weird. Everything okay?" You crossed your arms over your chest as the two of you walked backstage. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just realized, you and Jack have been dating for a while and we never really got a chance to get to know each other."

You grabbed a bottle from the craft services table, looking over your shoulder at him. "And tonight seemed like a good time to do that?"

"Yeah, tell me about your childhood. Did you wet the bed?" He wasn't sure how he got to that line of questioning, palming his face in embarrassment. "I didn't mean to ask you that." He plopped down on the couch, letting out a deep breath. "This is harder than I thought it was going to be."

"What is? What the hell is going on, Clay? You, Urban, and Jack for that matter, have been acting so strange lately." You sat down next to him, taking a big gulp of water.

"He doesn't want to overstep, but you're a lot harder to keep track of then we thought you would be."

You gave him an incredulous look. "Is this about Jack and the whole security thing? I told him I was fine." Clay nodded, shifting to sit up and face you.

"I know how much he cares about you, Y/N, and that whole fan interaction scared the shit out of him, even if it didn't bother you." You tightened the grip on your water bottle as Clay spoke, the plastic cracking in your hand. You were so caught up in how you felt, Jack's feelings didn't even cross your mind. "He just wants to make sure you're safe, but since you won't take the security team, he had to take matters into his own hand."

"I knew you two showing up a the bar last Thursday wasn't a coincidence? How did you two figure out where I was anyway?"

Clay ran a hand over his buzzcut hair. "Jack texted us that night and told us to get our asses over there. You wouldn't take Dave, so we had to improvise."

"So he sent Dumb and Dumber to look after me, huh?", you said in jest, playfully shoving Clay in the shoulder. "We prefer Scooby and Shaggy, but whatever", he shrugged, making you giggle.

"I guess I can let Dave follow me around every once and a while." The thought of a 6'5", 300 pound man standing in the corner of your pilates class was kind of funny.

"Listen, I know that your life has changed so much since you met Jack, trust me, if anyone knows its me, and if you know my brother at all, you know he does not play about the people he loves." You nodded, smiling to yourself. Jack loved his family and friends so deeply and openly, it was honestly refreshing to witness it first hand. You could tell how much he cared about everyone, and wanted to see them succeed. It was one of the things you loved the most about him.

Clay smiled, jumping to his feet and extending a hand to help you up. "C'mon, lets watch the end of the show."

"Wait, who's Shaggy in this duo?", you asked, grabbing the offered hand. "Obviously Urban", Clay answered. "Shaggy gives off major stoner vibes."

You stood off to the side of the stage as the show ended, and Jack ran down the stairs, immediately searching the backstage crowd for you. You watched on as his team surrounded him and helped him get unhooked from the sound equipment, as Clay gave him a quick rundown of your conversation, Jack's gaze never leaving your face.

He slowly approached you, half expecting you to be pissed, but you just wrapped him up in a tight hug, your cheek rubbing against his scraggly beard. "Everything okay?", he chuckled, nuzzling into your hair. "Yeah, everything's fine." You pulled away with a smile, grabbing his hand to walk back to his dressing room and away from everyone else. You turned to him as he shut the door, giving the two of you privacy.

"Did something happen?" You were quiet, and that made him uncomfortable. He hooked his eyebrow as he searched your face to try to gauge your reaction. "Look, I know that Clay told you everything, and I know you asked me to trust you, and I promise I do, but-". You stopped him with an abrupt kiss to the lips, your chests colliding with each other. You were the first to break to take a breath, Jack pulling you in tightly to his body so you couldn't walk away. "What was that for?", he asked with a giddy grin.

"I owe you a thank you, baby. I was fighting you so hard on this security thing because I didn't want my life to change anymore, but I know now you were just worried about me, and I appreciate that so much." You reassuringly ran your hands up and down his chest, feeling his muscles flex underneath your palms at your touch.

"I just love you so much", Jack explained, grabbing your hands and pressing a kiss to your knuckles, "and I can't do what I have to do unless I know you're safe. I know its a lot, but I need you to do this for me."

You nodded, giving him a small smile. "I know, just give me some time to get used to it. I'll come around to the whole idea that my boyfriend is an celebrity, eventually." You drug out the last word sarcastically.

"So that's a yes to the security team?" Jack ducked down to make eye contact with you. "Uh, no, not a whole security team, just two bodyguards." You motioned over to the door, and Jack turned around to see Urban and Clay standing in the threshold. "These two dumb asses?" Jack threw a lazy thumb their way with a disappointed look.

You both chuckled at the rumble of objections that came from the two of them. "Hey! Is that any way to talk about your girlfriend's security team?" Urban threw an arm over your shoulders, pulling you in for a side hug. "Yeah, these two will blend in a little better than your security team, plus they are a very good time."

"Yeah, you hear that? We're a good time." Clay threw his arm over your shoulder as well, sticking his tongue out at Jack.

"Whatever." Jack threw his hands up in surrender with a smile. "You should know that a twelve year old girl beat him up when he was a freshman in high school." You stiffled a laugh as you looked at Clay, who was visibly upset.

"She was really big for a twelve year old!", Clay bit back as everyone in the room burst into laughter.

Tag-List:

@jacks-daycare

@livsters

@katiaw2

@xangelonmyshoulderx

@thatonegirlthatlikesthings

@j0hkiya

@bell3e

@isisosidixj

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@itsyagirljaz

@hoodharlow

@bobthe-turmpetman29

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@fluidsentiment

@jacksuberdriver

[rogueddie]

No one loves Steve.

This is a fact that Steve very quickly learnt to accept. He still remembers the first time he actually accepted it, stopped fighting against it and just let the facts be.

He was only a kid. Seven years old. He'd always thrown a tantrum whenever his parents left him behind, whenever he got stuck with nannies and babysitters and people he didn't know enough to trust.

But then... then he was already tired. His parents were leaving later in the day, giving Steve time to tire himself out with his usual attempts to get their attention. He was too tired to throw a fit.

It got him the attention he'd wanted. His mom had smiled down at him, so sweet and adoring, touched his cheek so softly and spoke to him with such a soft, quiet voice. A moment that screamed with all the affection she felt for him, a reward for his good behaviour.

But that's all it was. A reward. It wasn't born of love and Steve knew that. So Steve... accepted it.

Then there was Nancy. Cramped in a bathroom, at what should have been a simple and fun party, staring down at her cold eyes as she gave him a sharp reminder. One that Steve knew but wasn't willing to admit to himself- not yet, he'd just wanted a little more time in his beautiful delusion.

She didn't love him. She probably never had. Of course she didn't, no one loved him. It was all bullshit.

With Robin, though, Steve thinks he's as close to loved as he'll ever get. The sibling relationship they build so quickly in that bathroom feels stronger than steel. It feels like he might finally deserve it too. It feels like he deserves the way Robin latches onto him.

But she's still just a friend. They're close but, in his experience, friends aren't people who really love you. Even though, logically, he knows that Robin is nothing like Tommy or Carol... he can't get them out of his head. Can't get the way they'd laughed at him when he tried to explain the platonic love he had for them.

But they're just friends. That's not love. Steve is certain.

Which is why, when Steve finally realizes that he's in love with Eddie, he feels heartbroken. He can't say it- even though they've been in a relationship for a year. Even when Eddie says it first. Steve can't.

Eddie seems to fine with it. Doesn't demand Steve say it back, just keeps telling Steve that he loves him. He says it so casually, doesn't look the least bit hurt when Steve struggles to think of anything other than "thanks" to say.

His passivity only further convinces Steve that he's just saying it. They've been dating a while, it's expected. It doesn't mean it's love, it doesn't mean he really is in love with Steve. It just means he likes the relationship they have, that he likes Steve, a lot. Enough to try and make Steve feel better with pretty lies.

Because no one loves Steve. It's a fact that Steve has already accepted...

But... if he sometimes lets himself believe otherwise... if he sometimes lets himself believe that Eddie means it when he says "I love you"... well. The only person it will hurt is himself. And those small moments where he allows himself to feel loved are worth the ache that inevitably follows. It's worth the pain.

[mrswolffs-blog]

AUDACITY: Toto Wolff x Wife!Black!Reader

TW: CURSING, YELLING

The hectic race here in Monza had finally come to an end and it is now time for the post-race interviews. One by one, the drivers were asked questions about what happened during their drive and what they think could've been done differently; however, a specific question a young driver had pissed off the wife the Mercedes AMG Petronas F1 Team, Y/n Wolff as she march her way in front of the man, blocking the journalist's sight of him.

"Could you please repeat that question you asked?" Y/n asked to make sure she heard the man right. "I asked if he felt that since he hadn't been winning any races for Christian, if he thought that maybe his time here in Formula 1 is running out?" the man asked once again, this time with a bit of fear for what the shorter yet feisty woman had to say. "So, I wasn't hallucinating, I heard you correctly! Now let me educate you on something here since you seem to lack the knowledge! A driver's career doesn't just end because they've been constantly not making it to the podium, sure he hasn't been winning yet he did a damn good job at keeping himself in the top six and THAT should be praised considering the state of favouritism going on in his team. Next is to address the fact that yes, we all know that Christian Horner is an impatient man when it comes to certain things, however he would never be that foolish to let Sergio go and if he was, he would pay for it dearly at my hands as I would personally burn his headquarters and garages to ashes, not leaving a pinch of paper for him to start over from. Mark my words, as whatever it is that you call yourself, the post-race interviews are for questions about the race and shouldn't go to the extent of you putting doubts into any driver's mind. BE WARNED THAT THIS IS YOUR FIRST AND LAST WARNING AS YOU ARE WALKING ON THIN ICE SEEMING THAT I COULD'VE HAD YOUR CAREER ENDED ON THE SPOT. Now apologize!" She shouted in anger that someone who should've been able to be trusted to ask sensible questions was actually a complete idiot out for nothing but starting chaos.

"I'm very sorry Sergio, I didn't think my words would have been taken that seriously" said the man as he was on the verge of tears, out of fear that he almost lost his job due to a foolish question. "It's ok, no hard feelings. Just try not to make this mistake again or best believe she'll be back for you" Sergio said as he went over to hug the man, being in shock himself.

Toto had been doing an interview with his drivers, when George noticed what was about to happen and tapped Lewis on the shoulder. They both called for Toto's attention, where the trio along with their journalist, watched on as Y/n gave the visibly shaking man a piece of her mind. After that was done, the lady interviewing them decided to ask "So Toto, you've obviously seen what your wife had just done. What would your reaction be to her for this?" the journalist smiled as she awaited an answer from Toto who as himself looks genuinely scared. "My question is What the fuck do you all want me to do?! I'm not getting involve in that! The last time you all had me interfere, I was unable to sleep on my pillows for a month!" He replied in a panicked tone as Lewis and George were the only two who knew what his "pillows" meant. "Dude, you've got to be kidding me. You still call her breasts pillows? How comfortable could they be?" George asked in amusement that his boss was still obsessed with his wife's boobs. "Trust me Russ, they are very comfy, I've also added and new pair. The ass" Toto said making everyone, including the journalist laugh. "Alright, so I see you're unable to help the guy out, that's all the questions I have for you three. Have a nice rest of your day" the woman said as they replied, "Same to you."

Unbeknownst to them the cameras had still been filming LIVE and they manged to capture the response which sent the world into a spiral at the fact that such a giant of man's weakness was being able to sleep on his wife as it now became the biggest thing to tease him of whenever he did something he wasn't supposed to.

[delulu-hours]

My Scholar

Paring: Derek Morgan x Latina!reader

Summary: Derek's girl was his scholar. She was the perfect smart girl who always seemed to doubt her ability. So when she called, saying she had a possible theory to help with their case, he never once doubted her.

A/n: I hope you guys enjoy this little imagine. It takes place in season one episode 15.

"Morgan," Derek answered the ringing of his phone; his eyes didn't look away from the image of the dead woman on the screen staring back at him. He hadn't even looked to see who was calling him.

"Hey, cariño." The corner of his lips quirked upwards as he closed the laptop, getting the dead woman out of his mind. He glanced around and noticed the rest of his team was busy, so he got up and walked to get himself some coffee.

"Hey there, mama." Morgan could already picture the sweet smile that would pull at her lips and the slight rosy color that would adorn her cheeks. "Everything okay?"

"Peachy," The voice on the other end hummed. "I just missed you." He hummed, knowing that they hadn't been able to spend much time with each other. Working at the BAU, Morgan was always traveling and working cases, which involved being away for long periods. It also didn't help that his girlfriend was still finishing her schooling.

"How are classes going?" He watched as the mug slowly filled with the black coffee. A groan on the other end caused him to chuckle.

"I'm calling for that reason." He raised an eyebrow before taking the mug that was filled with coffee. "I know you're busy working on the Keystone killer, but I think there's something that I might be able to help you with." He could hear some flipping of papers and a few Spanish curse words.

"Y/n," Derek stopped what he was doing and shifted his phone back in his hands. "What are you talking about, beautiful?" He knew his girl was on her way to working for a Ph.D. in Criminology and Criminal Justice. A smart pretty woman he knew so he wasn't going to stop her.

"His MO has changed since he started up killing," He wasn't surprised that she was keeping up with the case of the Keystone Killer. "I know. Before you say anything, I got some more information from the police as I managed to get my professor to help get more updated information for my essay." He hummed to let her know he was listening as she continued. "Well, what if he changed his MO because he had to? The change came from the need to adapt."

"Hold up," Morgan stopped her from rambling. "You're onto something, Scholar. Just hold that pretty little thought of yours. The team might need to hear this."

"Wait, qué? (what)" She stumbled over her words. "No, Derek, you tell them. Besides, it's just a thought; I don't even know how accurate this thought is."

"You need to give yourself more credit than that," He lingered behind the door that played a barrier between his team and him. "You are a set of fresh eyes. Trust me when I say that your idea would make sense, but I need you to be the one to explain this." It was quiet, and he felt Hotch looking at him as he opened the door but didn't enter.

"Fine." He smirked as he walked in. All eyes were now on him.

"I think I got us something that would help." Derek moved the phone from his ear before placing the call on speaker. "Do your magic, beautiful." He sat in his seat as he placed the phone on the table. He ignored the confusion from everyone as his girl took a deep breath.

"Okay, uhm, where do I start?" The voice was soft, and the rest of the team looked confused. They half expected to hear Garcia's voice by Morgan's choice of words. They only knew one person he used those nicknames for. "This might seem un poco raro (a little weird), but I've been studying the case of the Keystone Killer, and with the recent evidence gathered, it's evident that the unsub had changed his MO. Before it was a rope, which gave him the pleasure to be involved and feel his power over his victims. It also explains why he strangled his victims. "

"Why?" Gideon spoke up, trying to find where this unknown person was trying to get at. "Why change his MO if he isn't getting anything out of it."

"That was exactly what I thought when he used the flex cuffs and suffocation. That also includes taking in why he had began to knock some of his recent victims out as well, which he hadn't done before." Some typing could be heard before a small ping took over Morgan's phone. "I asked myself why he knocked out the victims when he didn't have an issue over it before, and it made me realize that maybe he had no choice. Before, he could overpower his victims, but what if now he couldn't? I mean, he could've sustained some injury that left him weak or something. A stroke. Maybe even a heart disease."

"That would explain the sudden need to use the flex cuffs and why he began suffocating his victims." Reid nodded as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Because he couldn't control her physically while she was awake." Ellie sounded impressed as they took in this new information.

"Exactamente! (exactly)" They heard a slight finger snap on the other end of the phone. Morgan couldn't help but shake his head as he took in his girl's excitement. "I mean, think about it; why else would he change what made him get off? The feeling of having the lives of his victims slowly leave their bodies as he strangled them. Seeing the fear in their eyes until they died and the power it gave him." If they could see the girl now, they would see the mess she was surrounded by. The papers on the bed, open books, and photos on the ground. She had been following this case since his latest victim, and it didn't help that she had written about the Keystone Killer in one of her previous assignments. "If he did sustain some sort of injury, there has to be some record of it in the hospital."

"So what are we talking about," Derek asked. "This must have happened after the middle of 1988 in Philadelphia."

"That's a lot of hospital records." Reid shook his head

"That is where I got stuck." She let out a small huff.

"Call our girl Friday." Gideon pointed at Derek, who gave him a short nod. Derek wasted no time picking up his phone and leaving the room. He took her off of speaker and placed the phone to his ear.

"You're a genius, baby." He placed a kiss on the phone, which earned him a laugh that he loved.

"I'm glad I could be of some help, cariño."

"I'll call you later when your theory leads us to the scumbag."

"Well, I hope you catch him and hurry back home. I miss my handsome man." He smiled as he heard the slight pout in her voice.

~~~~~~~~~

Y/n messed with the sweater hem I was waiting for as she waited for Morgan. He texted her, saying he wanted her to meet with him later tonight at his job. She leaned on her car as she bit my lip, nervous to be here. "There she is." She perked up at his voice and turned around. A smile tugged at her lips as she rushed over to him, throwing herself onto him and pulling him into a hug. Wrapping her legs around his torso, she peppered him with kisses as he chuckled. A slight stumble backward, but he had a hand on her thigh, close to her ass.

"I missed you, mi amor. (my love)" She placed a kiss on his lips. A hum vibrated through her as he kissed her back. His touch was soft as he took her in. The way she felt in his arms.

"You don't say." He pulled back a bit and smirked at her. She saw the amusement dancing in those beautiful eyes as he placed his forehead on hers. She gave him a big smile as she closed her eyes, soaking in his touch and his body's warmth. She had missed him so much. Morgan couldn't say much himself as he, too, missed his girl. He missed her smile. The soft touches he enjoyed after the long days at the office. Or the way she bit her lip as she was focused on her schoolwork. "I missed you too, Angel."

"Ready to go?" She asked as she unwrapped her legs from him. As much as Morgan didn't want to let her go, he had called her for a reason.

"Actually, some people would like to meet you." He took her hand in his and pulled her with him.

"A mí? (me)" He smirked at the confused look on her face as she followed behind him.

"Yes, you." Since solving the case, his team had been bugging him about the unknown girl who helped with the case. She frowned a bit and looked at the building they were walking to. "Don't think too hard with the pretty head of yours." He nudged her with his shoulder, and she rolled her eyes at him. It was a mutual decision to keep their relationship private, so Morgan wasn't surprised that his team was confused and wanted to know who she was. He also had no intentions of hiding their relationship. They never asked him about it, and he never bothered to bring it up.

"Oh, tu mamá me llamó. (your mom called me)" She slightly swung their arms back and forth as they kept walking.

"My mom?" Dating a little over a year allowed Morgan to understand enough Spanish to connect the dots. Y/n speaks a lot when they're together; however, it is usually mixed with English.

"Yeah, She wanted to know if we were still going down Jamacia later this year. I told her we planned to go, but it wasn't certain yet."

"Was that it?" She nodded, and Derek hummed.

~~~~~~~~~

His team watched Morgan talk to the girl who stood close to him. Their hands interlaced as Derek's smile grew from whatever she said. "Derek is down bad." JJ looked amused as she took in this new side of her teammate.

"Did someone tell Garica?" Ellie asked softly as she glanced around, not finding the blonde anywhere. "I'm sure she'd love to meet the mystery woman." Reid shook his head before he could say anything. Morgan and the mystery women neared them.

"Guys, I would like to introduce you to my beautiful, sweet, intelligent girl, Y/n." The woman beside Morgan gave them a bashful smile as a slight blush dusted her cheeks, embarrassed by the compliment her boyfriend showered her with.

"It's nice to meet you." JJ was the first to hold his hand out to her. "Heard you were of great help with the case." Y/n took her hand and gave it a firm shake.

"Encantada, (nice to meet you)" She nodded at them as she took in the rest of Derek's team. She could tell who they all were just by how Morgan described them. "I didn't do much, but I was glad my theory helped JJ." JJ looked slightly surprised. She knew who she was. Y/n took in the man who sat on his chair; his was longer than the rest of the men in the team and tucked behind his ear. As expected, he wore a white button-up shirt with a black tie and a burgundy sweater vest. She knew right away that man was Spencer Reid.

"You mentioned that you had been working on the Keystone Killer case," Reid shifted in his seat. "Why is that?"

"It was for my class." She smiled at Reid. "I've written an essay about him before, so when he started killing again, I decided to follow along and use it for another assignment." She could tell that Reid was intrigued with what she was saying. "If you like Spencer, I can have Morgan give it to you when I finish it."

"Really?" He sat up straight in his seat. "I'd love to see what you have down. I read the small portion you sent Morgan and thought it was interesting."

"Claro que sí. (of course)" She nodded, delighted to share her work with him. She knew she would get along well if Reid were anything Derek described him as. Morgan watched, pleased to see his girl getting along with his team.

"Look at this," Derek threw an arm around her. "My nerd and pretty boy geeking out." A small groan left his lips as Y/n elbowed him in the stomach. His team was amused as she rolled her eyes at him, knowing she didn't even hit him that hard.

"Don't be jealous that they like me better than you, amor." She teased back at him. "Everyone loves me."

"Y/n?!" A cheer caused her to turn around as she took in the blonde-haired girl who rushed over to her.

"Pen!" She held her arms open as Penelope hugged her tightly. "It's good to see you again." She placed a friendly kiss on her cheeks as she smiled at her.

"Derek didn't mention you were stopping by!" She gushed as she shot a slight glare at Derek. Derek just chuckled as he knew how much Garcia adored his girl. He didn't blame her. Y/n was amazing. Truly.

"Well, Miss, Y/n," Hotch's voice had Y/n look over at him, a small smile on his lips as he nodded at her. "Good work with the case." He took his briefcase and looked at the rest of his team. "I'm going to head out for the night." They said their byes and watched him leave.

"It was a pleasure working with you briefly." Gideon gave her a slight nod as he followed Hotch, leaving for the day. The smile never left Y/n lips as she looked at Morgan, who gave her a wink.

"Told ya you did good." He gently rubbed her cheek. "My scholar."

[aemysbabyofficial]

Sweet Favor; Aemond Targaryen x Targaryen!OC

O, young Lucerys. So young and naive ventured down journeys and halls that never called his name.

Warnings: descriptions of sex; targcest; p in v sex; implied rough sex; description of nude bodies; dirty talk; swearing; description of sex

MDNI

Lucerys Velaryon had a favor for someone. It was something special yet difficult. It required the utmost levels of precision. Not everyone was fit for the challenge. Not his brothers, no. They would mess up before he even asked them. Lucerys kicked the dirt off his boots before commencing his search inside the castle.

No, this favor required the skills of one special kind of person. Someone he knew he could trust. Someone that always had his back, even in the darkest of nights. This person knew all the ins and outs and was secretive with it. This person was also everyone's favorite, so there was chance his favor could take time. The right wink was needed for the right flush of the cheeks.

"Saela?"

Lucerys noticed the odd shift in Daemon's shoulders when he spoke his cousin’s name. His head of brown curls poked into the quiet room and his voice echoed against the high walls. Out of everyone, Daemon would know where his favorite daughter was.

"Haven't seen her since the morning. Is she not riding with her sisters?"

Lucerys shook his head. Hope had crested off the cliff's edge into the frigid blue depths.

After breaking their fast, Baela and Rhaena took off on their dragons with Jacaerys and hadn't returned. Saela told them she wasn't feeling well and excused herself from the table to rest in the library, leaving she, Lucerys, and King Viserys' children inside. Currently, from the other rooms and halls he poked his head into, Helaena was outside digging through the gardens. She muttered prophecies that scared Lucerys away from even asking her a question. Aegon hadn't shown his face since dinner two nights ago--there was no question where he was nor what he was doing. Aemond was squaring off with Ser Criston Cole a while ago and where he was now didn't pinch the boy's mind.

"You need her for something?" Daemon craned his neck. Lucerys shook his head and bid the prince farewell before he could spill his favor.

Where the Heart of the House had disappeared flew over the prince’s head. This is her home. Lucerys was forced to remember after he turned every corner that he was only a guest at his cousin’s home. Saela knew the Keep better than anyone. The layout was stamped to her mind hotter and fresher than anyone. It was because of that Lucerys bore jealousy for her impeccable memory. With all the years they spent apart and she was forced to roam these cold walls, it came to no surprise that Saela knew the best places to hide.

Midday at the Red Keep saw few to no people in the halls. As it was a bright day outside and peace had touched the land, rather than waste the odd day, all the nobles either roamed the town or returned to their homelands. No one knew how long symphony would sing its strings in King’s Landing. Such quiet gave Lucerys to roam hallways, secret paths, and passages he would never once do. It was a shame Saela wasn’t with him to be his guide and Jace was missing the greatest action, but adventures by himself built up his small strength for greater feats.

A hall he had never seen before, or maybe, hadn’t remembered from his time away stood to his right. Lucerys looked to his left and right. He stood far from anyone’s bedchambers or busy hallways. It was empty, this hall. No guard stood posted outside a door nor did a handmaid walk. A heavy ball dropped in the young prince’s gut when he stepped foot into the hall. It felt like he entered a new world. Candles lighting the paths were blown off and an rogue breeze brushed his hair sideways. An open door? The sounds of children laughing and light voices trailed from an open door out of Lucerys reached. To not startle anyone or expose his position, the boy craned his eyes just far enough to see the awkward skirt of a handmaid and wooden toys for children.

“A nursery…” Lucerys whispered. Jaehaera, Maelor, and Jaehaerys must be playing inside.

An open window allowed for the ocean breeze to pave its way. A young child--Lucerys' could not figure the age for the life of him--ran to the far corners of the room to an older woman. A wetnurse rocked on a chair while the other handmaids spoke better High Valyrian he expected. Across the floor were various clothing items and hoods detailed with colored ribbon. The lure of young ones laughing and running with glee reminded the boy of his youngest siblings. A mixture of High Valyrian and Common Tongue fell from the children’s tongues. He wished to join them in the large room, jealous they could speak his mother’s tongue better than him, but doing so would distract him from his mission.

He needed to find his favorite cousin now.

Lucerys ran past the nursery with light steps. The prince pushed past the door at the end of the hallway and came face to face with a storage. Another dead end. Magic must have stolen Saela away because she was nowhere to be found. Lucerys kicked a hanging rug behind him, basking him into a cloud dust.

"Gods..."

A breathy voice trailed its way to Lucerys' ears. As the last syllable burned his flesh, the skin of his ears blushed a flaming pink. His head checked all directions in the storage. He was alone, was he not? Who could be making such a devilish sound? A mix of muffled and hushed voices spoke to the boy’s confused mind behind a door hidden behind the fallen rug. With careful steps, he crept closer and closer to a spare room.

“N-no worries. ‘tis quiet now, right?” the airy voice spoke again, warring on a thin line between pain and pleased. Was the voice talking about him?

Lucerys furrowed his brows.  

What his cousin was doing in such an abandoned place made no sense, but the surprise he would give her would ultimately reveal the truth. Out of the three, Saela was the easiest to give up. Baela would resist with arms of steel and Rhaena would somehow evade his unique questioning, but Saela? If he needed anyone to cover his messes, wanted to know a little secret, or needed a little favour, Saela was the perfect girl to give into little Lucerys.

The smile on his face tugged his lips upwards when he rested a hand on the door. Whoever closed the door was confident no one would pass the hall because it was unlocked. Nothing stopped Lucerys from barging in. Nothing stopped him from lightly pushing the door with his fingers. Nothing stopped him from bribing Saela.

"Oh gods, right there! Don't stop, please!"

A loud voice froze the boy's smile. Lucerys' body stilled so much he could hear his heart pounding in his ears. But past the deep thumping of his heart and blood rushing through his veins were the moans from his dear cousin. The giggles he loved to hear after making her laugh were interlaced with breathy moans and pleads for whatever to go faster. The quiet of the hallway made everything behind the door much louder.

What he saw made his stomach turn.

Atop a simple bed were two bodies tangled together in a mess of clothes and limbs. The skirt of Saela's skirt was bunched at her waist while one of her legs were strung over Aemond's shoulder. Her breasts spilled from the neckline of her dress and both their hands, in the mix of haggard hair, groped each other’s soft skin. Aemond’s hands trailed up from her waist to her neck while Saela interlaced her right hand with his and braced herself onto his other wrist. The vicious slap Aemond’s hips made every time he thrusted into her made Lucerys sick.

But what shocked him most were the words spilling from Saela’s mouth.

Her full, round lips would once sing him imaginary songs to sleep and whisper him funny stories she thought up in the Godswood. Yet in the cramped space she opened her legs to Aemond, filth dripped from her tongue every passing second.

“Aem-ugh, right there!” Saela screamed as her back arched. Her eyes shut closed. Lucerys watched pain and pleasure wash over her face. The head of silver waterfalls basked her chest when Aemond sucked her breasts. Her moans sharpened when he bit her nipples. His hips never stopped smacking into Saela but quickened its pace when her moans and screams grew louder.

Aemond had rid himself of his trousers and boots, leaving him a heaving statue dressed in a cotton shirt. Contorts of his muscled back flexed with every move he made. Sweat glistened off the sun’s rays, resembling his appearance to an imaginary spirit rather than a statue or man.

“Gods be good, Saela.” Mutters of Lucerys’ cousin fell from Aemond’s lips. It was like he worshipped her in the cramped space. Her moans and pleads were a chorals song to Aemond’s prayers that were fulfilled every second.

No. No! Lucerys covered his ears and stepped back from the door. What we doing here? He shouldn’t be here? The prince froze in place, unable to move nor block out the lewd sounds he heard. His mother always said she would teach him about manhood—what it meant to love a woman, fight for her honor, and eventually take her maiden head. But here in this cramped space, Rhaenyra was already beaten. I can’t look away, the boy’s brain honed his eyes to the sweaty fucking before him.

Lucerys couldn’t look away from Saela’s bouncing breast, her nipples shinning with Aemond’s spit.

Lucery couldn’t look away from Aemond’s dick vanishing into her hole, already coated in juices.

Lucerys couldn’t look away from Aemond nuzzling his face into Saela’s neck, whispering sweet whispers and pressing kisses to her skin.

No, I can’t look away. Lucerys’ body was hot. I am a grown boy bound to learn love sooner or later. Something in him throbbed, he didn’t know what, but it made his body blush.

"Give me a babe, Aemond. I want to be full of your seed."

Babes? Lucerys couldn’t believe his burned ears.

“You want to be full of me, again?” Aemond breathed against Saela’s neck. The whisper was loud enough for Lucerys to hear over the loud sex. “You want to parade yourself around as my little whore again?”

“Fuck what the lot think. All I want is my cunt to be filled with you.” the hooded stare Saela gave Aemond would have any man melting at the knees, but the prince hovered over her like a god unfazed. No, he wasn’t unfazed, his desire peaked to higher levels. Whatever throbbed in Lucerys moved to his heart and mind. Who was this woman that his cousin’s face?

“No one satisfies me the way you do,” the prince’s voice became airy. “No one fucks the way you do, sweet talks them into anything. No one loves the way you do.”

Aemond showed the fury of a swordsman in that small room. His voice growled against her cheek. His balls ached with release each time they slapped into Saela’s wet entrance. Juices leaked from them both, coating their thighs in slick layers Lucerys couldn’t imagine. “I will give you whatever you wish for in this cursed place. As long as you stay with me.”

“Forever and ever, love.” Saela’s voice was soft even if her face contorted in pain. In just saying those four words, the couple lost themselves to each other.

A mixture of a laugh and moan fell from Saela’s mouth when the hand fisting her hair tightened its hold. Aemond’s other hand sunk into the softness of her thigh and kneaded the skin without mercy. What Lucerys half-understood as Valyrian curses erupted from Aemond when he dug himself deep into Saela. One. Two. Three. Four. One at a time, Lucerys watched Aemond “shoot his load,” as Aegon whispered into his ear in passing. His ears burned with the hot hiss from his uncle, and they bled every time Aemond cursed steps away from him.

A drunk smile spread on Saela's lips as her back arched. Her eyes clenched close as a searing pain shot up her thigh. The grip Aemond hand on her forced her body closer to his. Their bodies stuck to each other from the sweat and desires they oozed. She trembled with ecstasy while Aemond's hot breath fanned her equally hot skin. His kisses on her neck were wet and his thrusts slowed to a gentle beat. Lucerys could see flames of desire ignite everything around them.

When the moans stopped and the couple peeled themselves away from each other, the boy finally snapped back into reality. His body stumbled against the cold floor and his chest rose faster the more he listened to the shuffling of their clothes.

Lucerys' breath hitched when the door opened. How did she get up so fast? Saela gasped when she saw her cousin's wide eyes. After the pounding she received, Lucerys wished to ask her “are you not in pain?” but speaking in this quiet space warranted him a death sentence. Her hands flew to cover her chest, but what was there the boy hadn't seen she needed to cover? The red of his face and panicked rise of his chest gave it away. He saw. And what could Saela do?

"Are you alright, love?"

Saela whipped her head back into the room. Her curls fell over her shoulders, hiding the trail of bites from her chest to her ear. She closed the door just slightly, hiding Lucerys from both she and Aemond's eyes. Whatever Aemond was doing kept him from the door, saving Lucerys the rest of his life.

"Yes, I'm fine. Thought I saw a rat." A deep chuckle from the One-Eyed Prince echoed in the room before more shuffling. “A nasty thing, that would be.” She whispered something to him, craning her body closer to him, hopefully keeping Aemond from the door while Lucerys shuffled himself back to his feet. When he looked back up, another pair of eyes stared down at him.

That wasn't Saela. Whoever he was looking at wasn't his dear cousin who laughed at anyone's jokes. The woman half-dressed with red eyes wasn't the sweet lady that cheered him up when Jace won others affection. The woman who looked like she could kill wasn't his favourite cousin that would sneak down with him and steal lemon cakes and fruit at the hour of the owl. No, no, the lady in front of him had her legs open to the prince that taunted his family. She accepted the seed of a man who mocked his parentage, called him a bastard, and nearly killed him after claiming another’s dragon. This woman called the prince every loving name in the world. She was the lady that wished to have his babes.

"Luke."

The nickname was curt and hard. It was whispered like a needle, pricking his skin without warning. The boy shook his head, unsure if he nodded.

Saela stepped out of the room, her shoulders rolled back and head held up high. Whatever she did, she was used to. She must always hide and fuck Aemond whenever she wished. Whoever stumbled upon them were victim to the madness in the girl’s veins. She was comfortable with the power she wielded in this situation. The air around the Velaryon and Targaryen grew thick and heavy, challenging Lucerys to breathe. The stare as sharp as a sword sliced him up and down, silently checking if he was a threat. Of course he wasn't. This woman wasn't scared of a boy like him.

"I always do favors for you." Saela batted her eyes. In a second she was the girl he ran in the halls with when everyone was asleep. The girl that helped him learn most of the High Valyrian he remembered. Her lips crested into the sweet smile he missed after so long.

"You can do this one for me. Right?”

The magic Lucerys looked for was used on him. It was only Saela Targaryen, amongst anyone in their family, that could use magic that would make any man bend the knee without thought.