#I have an idea how to finish it... I think

[pucksandpower]

Be My Sanctuary

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: Charles never expected to play Prince Charming to a stranger after a race, but when he comes across you being beaten by your boyfriend, he can’t just stand around and do nothing … it turns out to be exactly what you both needed

Warnings: domestic violence, abuse, and serious injury

The sun dips low on the horizon as Charles Leclerc and Fred Vasseur make their way back to the Ferrari motorhome. The air buzzes with post-race energy, a mix of exhaustion and exhilaration.

“That was some driving out there,” Fred says, clapping the Monégasque on the back. “P2 is nothing to sneeze at.”

Charles grins, his eyes bright despite the fatigue etched on his face. “Merci beaucoup. It felt good to be back on the podium. I think we’re really starting to find our rhythm with the car.”

“Agreed. If we can keep this momentum going-”

A sharp crack cuts through the air, followed by a cry of pain that makes both men freeze in their tracks.

Charles’ head whips around. “Did you hear that?”

Fred nods, his expression grim. “It came from over there.” He points towards a secluded area behind one of the hospitality units.

Without hesitation, they break into a run, rounding the corner just in time to see a man’s hand connect with a woman’s face. The sound of the impact turns Charles’ stomach.

“You stupid bitch!” The man screams, his face contorted with rage. “Do you have any idea how much money I lost because of you? I told you not to come to the race! You’re bad luck!”

You stumble backward, your hand pressed to your cheek. “I-I’m sorry,” you stammer. “I didn’t mean to-”

“Shut up!” The man lunges forward, grabbing you by the arms and shaking you violently. “You cost me everything!”

Charles feels a surge of anger course through him. Without thinking, he sprints towards the pair, Fred close on his heels.

“Hey!” Charles shouts. “Let her go!”

The man’s head snaps up, his eyes wild. For a split second, he looks startled, but then his face twists into a snarl. Before Charles can reach them, the man slams your head against the brick wall with a sickening thud.

You crumple to the ground, unmoving.

Charles tackles the man, driving him away from the fallen woman. They hit the ground hard, and Charles feels the air rush out of his lungs. But adrenaline keeps him moving, and he manages to pin the larger man down.

“Fred!” He calls out. “Check on her!”

As Charles struggles to keep the man subdued, he hears Fred’s sharp intake of breath.

“Charles, she’s not responding. There’s ... there’s a lot of blood.”

The words send a chill down Charles’ spine. He glances over his shoulder and sees you lying motionless on the ground, a dark pool spreading beneath your head.

“Someone call an ambulance!” Charles shouts, hoping someone nearby will hear. He turns back to the man beneath him, who’s still thrashing and cursing. “Stop moving!” Charles hisses, pressing his forearm against the man’s chest.

“Get off me!” The man spits. “This is none of your business!”

Charles feels a fresh wave of rage wash over him. “None of my business? You just assaulted someone!”

Fred’s voice cuts through the chaos. “I’ve called for help. They’re on their way.” He’s kneeling beside you now, his jacket pressed against your head. “But it doesn’t look good. She needs immediate medical attention.”

The sound of running footsteps approaches, and suddenly there are more people around them. Charles recognizes some of the faces — other drivers, team personnel. Someone pulls him off the attacker, who’s quickly restrained by security.

Charles stumbles to his feet, his heart pounding. He makes his way over to where you lie, dropping to his knees beside Fred.

“Is she ...” He can’t bring himself to finish the question.

Fred shakes his head. “She’s alive, but barely. We need to keep pressure on the wound until the paramedics arrive.”

Charles nods, placing his hands over Fred’s on the makeshift compress. He looks down at your face, so pale and still. “Hold on,” he whispers. “Just hold on.”

The wait for the ambulance feels interminable. Charles keeps his eyes fixed on your chest, watching for the slight rise and fall that tells him you’re still breathing. He’s vaguely aware of the commotion around them — people asking questions, security trying to keep everyone back.

“What happened?” It’s Lewis’ voice, tinged with concern.

Fred answers, his voice low and tight. “Domestic violence. The boyfriend ...” He trails off, but the implication is clear.

“Jesus,” Lewis mutters. “Is there anything we can do?”

Charles looks up, meeting Lewis’ worried gaze. “Just ... pray, I guess.”

The sound of sirens cuts through the air, growing louder by the second. Charles feels a small measure of relief, but it’s quickly overshadowed by fear as he looks back down at you.

“Stay with us,” he murmurs. “Help is coming. Just stay with us.”

The paramedics arrive in a flurry of activity, gently but firmly moving Charles and Fred aside. Charles watches, feeling helpless, as they work on you with practiced efficiency.

“Severe head trauma,” one of them says. “We need to move her now.”

As they lift you onto a stretcher, Charles catches a glimpse of your face. There’s a bruise blooming on your cheek, stark against your pale skin. Something twists in his chest, a mixture of anger and an emotion he can’t quite name.

“I’m going with her,” he says suddenly, surprising himself.

Fred puts a hand on his shoulder. “Charles, I don’t think-”

“I need to make sure she’s okay,” Charles insists. He looks at Fred, pleading. “Someone needs to be there for her.”

After a moment, Fred nods. “Alright. I’ll handle things here and meet you at the hospital.”

Charles climbs into the ambulance, his eyes never leaving your still form. As the doors close and the vehicle lurches into motion, he reaches out and gently takes your hand.

“I don’t know if you can hear me,” he says softly, “but you’re not alone. I’m right here with you. And I promise, you’re going to be okay.”

As the ambulance speeds through the streets, sirens wailing, Charles finds himself holding onto your hand like a lifeline. He’s not sure if he’s trying to comfort you or himself.

The paramedic working on you glances at Charles. “You know her?”

Charles shakes his head. “No, I ... we just found her. Her boyfriend was ...” He swallows hard. “We stopped him, but not soon enough.”

The paramedic’s face softens with understanding. “You did the right thing. You probably saved her life by intervening when you did.”

Charles nods, but the words bring little comfort. He can’t shake the image of your head hitting the wall, the sound it made. He squeezes your hand gently.

“Fight,” he whispers. “Please fight.”

The rest of the ride passes in a blur of medical jargon and the steady beep of monitors. When they finally arrive at the hospital, Charles is ushered into a waiting room while you’re rushed into emergency surgery.

He paces the small room, unable to sit still. His mind races with questions. Who are you? Why would someone do this to you? Will you be okay?

Time seems to stretch endlessly. Charles checks his phone, sees messages from Fred and other concerned friends, but he can’t bring himself to respond yet. Not until he knows something.

Finally, after what feels like hours, a doctor approaches him. Charles stands, his heart in his throat.

“Are you here for the young woman brought in with head trauma?” The doctor asks.

Charles nods. “Yes. Is she ...”

“She’s out of surgery,” the doctor says. “We’ve managed to relieve the pressure on her brain, but the next 24 hours will be critical. Are you family?”

Charles hesitates. “No, I ... I was there when it happened. I rode here with her in the ambulance.”

The doctor’s expression softens slightly. “I see. Well, I can tell you that she’s stable for now, but still unconscious. We’ll be monitoring her closely.”

“Can I see her?” The words are out of Charles’ mouth before he can think better of it.

The doctor considers for a moment. “Normally we only allow family, but ... given the circumstances, I think we can make an exception. Just for a few minutes.”

Charles follows the doctor down a series of hallways, his heart pounding. When they reach your room, he pauses at the doorway, suddenly unsure.

“Go on,” the doctor says gently. “Talk to her. Sometimes patients can hear even when they’re unconscious.”

Taking a deep breath, Charles steps into the room. The sight of you lying there, surrounded by machines, makes his chest tighten. He moves to your bedside, carefully taking your hand once more.

“Hey,” he says softly. “It’s Charles. The guy from before. I don’t know if you remember, but ... I’m here. You’re safe now.”

He stands there for a long moment, just holding your hand and watching the steady rise and fall of your chest. It’s strange, he thinks, to feel so connected to someone he’s never even spoken to.

“I don’t know your story,” he continues, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I want you to know that you didn’t deserve this. No one does. And when you wake up — because you will wake up — you won’t be alone. I promise.”

A nurse appears in the doorway, signaling that his time is up. Charles gives your hand one last gentle squeeze before reluctantly letting go.

As he leaves the room, he turns back for one last look. “I’ll be back,” he says. “Stay strong.”

Walking back to the waiting room, Charles feels a mix of emotions he can’t quite sort out. But one thing is clear — something has changed. And whatever happens next, he knows he’ll be there to see it through.

***

Days blend into one another as Charles maintains his vigil at your bedside. The rest of the Formula 1 circus has long since departed, but Charles can’t bring himself to leave. He’s made arrangements with the team, grateful for their understanding, and settled into a routine of sorts.

Each morning, he arrives at the hospital with fresh flowers and a determination that today might be the day you wake up. He talks to you, reads to you, and sometimes just sits in companionable silence, the steady beep of monitors a constant backdrop.

On the fifth day, as Charles is midway through reading an article about the benefits of having a dachshund, he notices a slight change. Your fingers twitch, almost imperceptibly. He leans forward, heart racing.

“Hey,” he says softly, taking your hand. “Can you hear me? If you can, squeeze my hand.”

For a long moment, nothing happens. Then, so faintly he almost misses it, he feels a gentle pressure against his palm. His breath catches in his throat.

“That’s it,” he encourages. “You’re doing great. Can you open your eyes for me?”

Slowly, painfully slowly, your eyelids flutter open. Your gaze is unfocused at first, confusion evident in your expression as you try to make sense of your surroundings.

“It’s okay,” Charles says, keeping his voice low and soothing. “You’re in the hospital. You’re safe now.”

You blink a few times, your gaze finally settling on Charles. Your brow furrows slightly, and you open your mouth to speak, but no sound comes out.

“Don’t try to talk just yet,” Charles advises. “Your throat might be sore from the tube. Here.” He reaches for a cup of water with a straw, holding it to your lips. “Small sips, okay?”

You take a tentative sip, wincing slightly. After a moment, you try again to speak. Your voice is raspy, barely above a whisper. “Who ...”

“I’m Charles,” he says. “I was there when ... when you got hurt. Do you remember anything?”

You close your eyes, a pained expression crossing your face. “Jake,” you murmur. “He was angry ...”

Charles feels a flare of anger at the mention of your boyfriend’s name, but he keeps his voice calm. “That’s right. He hurt you pretty badly. But you’re safe now. He can’t get to you here.”

You shake your head slightly, wincing at the movement. “It wasn’t his fault,” you say. “He just ... he gets upset sometimes. I shouldn’t have gone to the race. I knew it would make him angry.”

Charles frowns, recognizing the pattern of self-blame common in abuse victims. He takes a deep breath, choosing his words carefully. “Listen,” he says gently. “What happened to you wasn’t your fault. No matter how angry someone gets, they don’t have the right to hurt you. Ever.”

You look away, tears welling up in your eyes. “You don’t understand. Jake ... he loves me. He just has a temper sometimes.”

“Love shouldn’t hurt,” Charles says firmly. “Love doesn’t leave you in the hospital with a skull fracture.”

Your eyes widen slightly at this information. “Is that ... is that what happened to me?”

Charles nods solemnly. “You’ve been unconscious for five days. The doctors ... they weren’t sure if you’d wake up at all.”

A tear slips down your cheek. “I don’t ... I don’t know what to do now.”

“You press charges,” Charles says without hesitation. “What he did to you was a crime. He needs to face the consequences of his actions.”

You shake your head frantically, wincing again at the movement. “No, I can’t. He’d be so angry. He ...”

“He would what?” Charles presses gently. “Hurt you again? That’s exactly why you need to do this. To protect yourself and maybe even others.”

You’re quiet for a long moment, tears falling silently. “I’m scared,” you finally whisper.

Charles squeezes your hand. “I know. And that’s okay. Being scared doesn’t mean you’re weak. It means you’re human. But you’re stronger than you know. You survived this. You can survive what comes next, too.”

“But where would I go?” You ask, your voice small. “Jake ... he made me drop out of school. I had to quit my job. I don’t have anywhere to go, or any money, or ...”

Your words trail off as a fresh wave of tears overtakes you. Charles feels a surge of protectiveness, coupled with a deep anger at the man who has left you in this situation.

“Hey,” he says softly, waiting until you meet his gaze. “I know we’ve only just met, and this might sound crazy, but ... what if you came to stay with me for a while?”

You blink in surprise. “What?”

“I live in Monaco,” Charles explains. “I know it’s far from here, but maybe that’s a good thing. It would give you some distance, some time to figure things out without having to worry about ... about him finding you.”

“But ... but I couldn’t,” you stammer. “I don’t have any money, I can’t pay rent or-”

Charles shakes his head. “I’m not asking for rent. I’m offering you a safe place to stay while you get back on your feet. No strings attached.”

You look at him skeptically. “Why would you do that for a stranger?”

Charles is quiet for a moment, considering his answer. “Because when I saw what was happening to you, I couldn’t just walk away. And I can’t walk away now, knowing you need help. Maybe it’s not my place, maybe it’s crossing some line, but ... I want to help. If you’ll let me.”

You’re silent for a long moment, and Charles can almost see the wheels turning in your mind as you weigh your options.

“What about your job?” You finally ask. “Don’t you have races to go to?”

Charles nods. “I do. But I have a big apartment, and there’s plenty of room. You’d have your own space. And when I’m away for races, I have friends who could check in on you, make sure you have everything you need.”

You bite your lip, looking torn. “I don’t know ... it’s a lot to take in.”

“Of course,” Charles says quickly. “You don’t have to decide right now. Take some time to think about it. But know that the offer is there if you want it.”

Just then, a nurse enters the room. Her face lights up when she sees you’re awake. “Well, look who’s back with us,” she says warmly. “I’ll go get the doctor. He’ll want to check you over.”

As the nurse leaves, you turn back to Charles. “You should go,” you say. “You’ve already done so much. You don’t need to stay.”

Charles stands, but he doesn’t move towards the door. “I’ll step out while the doctor examines you,” he says. “But if it’s okay with you, I’d like to come back after. We can talk more about ... everything.”

You hesitate for a moment before nodding. “Okay,” you say softly. “And ... thank you. For being here. For caring.”

Charles feels a warmth spread through his chest. “Of course,” he says. “I’ll be right outside if you need anything.”

As he steps into the hallway, Charles takes a deep breath. He knows he’s getting involved in a complicated situation, one that could have far-reaching consequences. But looking back at you through the doorway, he knows he’s made the right choice. Whatever comes next, he’ll be there to help you through it.

The doctor arrives, and Charles settles into a chair in the hallway. He pulls out his phone, scrolling through the messages he’s neglected over the past few days. There’s one from Fred, asking for an update. Charles types out a quick reply.

She’s awake. It’s complicated, but I think she’s going to be okay. I’ll call you later with details.

As he hits send, Charles leans back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. He knows the road ahead won’t be easy, for either of you. But for the first time in days, he feels a spark of hope. It’s a start, he thinks. And sometimes, that’s all you need.

***

The sunlight glints off the sleek exterior of the private jet as Charles helps you up the stairs. He can feel the slight tremor in your hand as he guides you inside, noting the way your eyes dart nervously around the cabin.

“Welcome aboard,” Charles says with a warm smile, hoping to put you at ease. “Make yourself comfortable. We’ve got a bit of a flight ahead of us.”

You nod, your lips pressed into a thin line as you sink into one of the plush leather seats. Charles settles in across from you, watching as you fumble with the seatbelt.

“Here, let me help,” he offers, leaning forward to assist. As he clicks the belt into place, he notices your knuckles turning white as you grip the armrests. “First time flying?” He asks gently.

You let out a shaky laugh. “Is it that obvious?”

Charles shakes his head, his expression kind. “Not at all. But I fly a lot, so I’ve gotten pretty good at spotting nervous passengers.”

The engines roar to life, and you jump slightly in your seat. “I’m sorry,” you mutter, looking embarrassed. “I didn’t realize I’d be this scared.”

“Hey, no need to apologize,” Charles assures you. “It’s a completely normal fear. Did you know that even some drivers get nervous on planes?”

Your eyebrows raise in surprise. “Really? But you guys race at insane speeds for a living.”

Charles chuckles. “I know, it sounds crazy. But it’s true. I think it’s about control. In a car, we’re in charge. On a plane, we have to trust someone else.”

You nod, seeming to relax slightly at his words. But as the plane begins to taxi, your grip on the armrests tightens again.

“So,” Charles says, leaning forward slightly. “Tell me about what you were studying before ... well, before everything happened.”

You look at him, confusion briefly replacing the fear in your eyes. “What?”

“You mentioned you had to drop out of school,” Charles explains. “What were you studying?”

A small laugh escapes you, tinged with irony. “You’re going to think this is ridiculous, but ... I was studying law.”

Charles’ eyebrows shoot up. “Law? That’s impressive. Why would I think it’s ridiculous?”

You shrug, a hint of sadness creeping into your expression. “Just seems a bit ironic now, doesn’t it? Studying law and then ending up in a situation like ... like mine.”

The plane begins to accelerate down the runway, and you squeeze your eyes shut, your breath coming in short gasps.

“Hey,” Charles says softly, reaching across to place his hand over yours. “Look at me. It’s okay. We’re okay.”

You open your eyes, meeting his gaze. Charles can see the fear there, but also a flicker of determination.

“That’s it,” he encourages. “Now, tell me more about your law studies. What made you choose that field?”

You take a deep breath, clearly making an effort to focus on the conversation rather than the plane’s ascent. “I’ve always been interested in justice, I guess. Helping people who can’t help themselves. I wanted to make a difference.”

Charles nods, a small smile playing at his lips. “That’s admirable. And you know what? I don’t think it’s ironic at all that you were studying law. If anything, I think it shows how strong you are.”

The plane levels off, and some of the tension leaves your body. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” Charles says, leaning back in his seat but keeping his hand on yours, “you chose a field dedicated to justice and helping others. That takes courage and compassion. The fact that you ended up in a difficult situation doesn’t change who you are at your core.”

You’re quiet for a moment, considering his words. “I never thought about it like that,” you admit.

“Have you thought about going back to school?” Charles asks. “Finishing your degree?”

You shake your head, a flash of pain crossing your face. “I can’t. I don’t have the money, and even if I did, I can’t go back to my old university. Jake ... he knows where it is. He’d find me.”

Charles nods, understanding. “What if you didn’t have to go back to your old university? What if you could start fresh somewhere new?”

You look at him skeptically. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” Charles says, his mind racing with possibilities, “there are online programs you could look into. Or, if you prefer in-person classes, there’s the International University of Monaco. It’s a great school, and it would be close to where you’ll be staying.”

Your eyes widen slightly. “Monaco has a university?”

Charles nods, a grin spreading across his face. “It does indeed. And they have a law program. I could help you look into it if you’re interested.”

You bite your lip, looking uncertain. “I don’t know. It’s been a while since I was in school. And the cost ...”

“Don’t worry about the cost,” Charles says quickly. “Consider it an investment in your future. And as for being out of practice, well, that’s what studying is for, right?”

A small smile tugs at the corners of your mouth. “You make it sound so simple.”

Charles shrugs. “Maybe it is. Sometimes we overcomplicate things in our heads. But the truth is, if it’s something you want to do, there’s usually a way to make it happen.”

The plane encounters a patch of turbulence, causing it to shake slightly. Your grip on Charles’ hand tightens, but you don’t close your eyes this time.

“Sorry,” you mutter, loosening your grip slightly.

“No need to apologize,” Charles says. “I’m here if you need a hand to hold. Or a distraction. Speaking of which, why don’t you tell me about your favorite class from when you were in school?”

As you launch into a story about a particularly engaging Constitutional Law seminar, Charles can’t help but notice how your eyes light up. It’s the most animated he’s seen you since you woke up in the hospital, and it fills him with a sense of hope.

The rest of the flight passes in a blur of conversation. You tell Charles about your favorite professors, the most interesting cases you studied, and your obsession with Legally Blonde while growing up. In turn, Charles shares stories from his racing career, the challenges he’s faced, and the lessons he’s learned along the way.

Before either of you realize it, the captain’s voice comes over the intercom, announcing your descent into Nice.

“Oh,” you say, surprise evident in your voice. “We’re here already?”

Charles grins. “See? Not so bad, was it?”

You shake your head, a small laugh escaping you. “I guess not. Thank you, Charles. For ... well, for everything.”

As the plane touches down on the runway, Charles feels a warmth spread through his chest. “You’re welcome,” he says softly. “And hey, this is just the beginning, right?”

You nod, a mix of nervousness and excitement in your eyes. “Right. The beginning.”

The plane comes to a stop, and Charles stands, offering you his hand. “Ready to see your new home?”

You take a deep breath, then place your hand in his. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

As you make their way down the steps of the plane, Charles can’t help but feel a sense of anticipation. He knows the road ahead won’t be easy, but looking at you now, seeing the spark of determination in your eyes, he’s filled with hope for what the future might hold.

The Mediterranean sun greets them as they step onto the tarmac, warm and welcoming. Charles watches as you take in your surroundings, your eyes wide with wonder.

“It’s beautiful,” you breathe, gazing at the azure sea in the distance.

Charles smiles, feeling a surge of pride for his home. “Wait until you see the rest of it. Come on, let’s get you settled in.”

As you walk towards the waiting Ferrari, Charles finds himself stealing glances at you. There’s still fear and uncertainty in your eyes, but there’s something else too — a resilience that he admires. He makes a silent promise to himself, right there on the sun-drenched tarmac of the Côte d’Azur, to do whatever he can to help you rebuild your life.

“So,” he says as you slide into the passenger seat, “shall we swing by the university on our way home? Just to have a look?”

You hesitate for a moment, then nod. “Yeah,” you say, a small smile playing at your lips. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

***

The quiet of the night is shattered by a piercing scream. Charles bolts upright in his bed, heart racing, momentarily disoriented. Then realization hits him like a wave — it’s you.

Without hesitation, he leaps out of bed and races down the hallway to your room. He bursts through the door to find you thrashing in your sheets, eyes squeezed shut, still caught in the grip of your nightmare.

“No, Jake, please!” You cry out, your voice raw with fear. “Don’t hurt me!”

Charles is at your side in an instant, gently placing his hands on your shoulders. “Hey, hey,” he says softly but firmly. “It’s okay. You’re safe. It’s just a dream.”

Your eyes fly open, wild and unfocused. For a moment, you recoil from his touch, still trapped between nightmare and reality.

“It’s me,” Charles says, keeping his voice calm. “It’s Charles. You’re in Monaco, remember? You’re safe here.”

Slowly, recognition dawns in your eyes. “Charles?” You whisper, your voice trembling.

He nods, offering a reassuring smile. “That’s right. I’m here. You’re okay.”

The tension leaves your body all at once, and you collapse against him, tears streaming down your face. Charles wraps his arms around you, holding you close as you sob into his chest.

“I’m sorry,” you choke out between sobs. “I’m so sorry.”

“Shh,” Charles soothes, running a hand gently up and down your back. “You have nothing to be sorry for. It was just a nightmare.”

You pull back slightly, wiping at your tears with shaking hands. “I didn’t mean to wake you. I feel so stupid.”

Charles shakes his head firmly. “You’re not stupid. Nightmares are normal after what you’ve been through. And I’m glad I woke up. I want to be here for you.”

You take a shuddering breath, trying to calm yourself. “It felt so real,” you whisper. “I could feel his hands on me, hear his voice ...”

“But it wasn’t real,” Charles reminds you gently. “He can’t hurt you anymore. I won’t let him.”

You nod, but Charles can see the lingering fear in your eyes. “Do you want to talk about it?” He asks.

You shake your head. “No, I ... I just want to forget.”

“Okay,” Charles says, understanding. “Is there anything I can do? Maybe get you some water or tea?”

You bite your lip, looking uncertain. “Could you ... would you mind staying? Just until I fall asleep?” The words come out in a rush, as if you’re afraid to ask.

Charles feels a surge of protectiveness. “Of course,” he says without hesitation. “I’ll stay as long as you need me to.”

Relief washes over your face. “Thank you,” you whisper.

Charles helps you settle back against the pillows, then hesitates for a moment. “Is it okay if I ...” He gestures to the other side of the bed.

You nod, shifting over slightly to make room. Charles slips under the sheets, careful to maintain a respectful distance. But you surprise him by moving closer, seeking comfort in his presence.

“Is this okay?” You ask, your voice small.

“Of course,” Charles assures you. He opens his arms, offering an embrace without pressure. “Whatever you need.”

You hesitate for just a moment before curling into his side, your head resting on his chest. Charles wraps his arms around you, feeling the rapid beat of your heart against his side.

“Try to relax,” he murmurs. “Focus on your breathing. In and out, nice and slow.”

You nod against his chest, making a conscious effort to steady your breathing. Charles can feel some of the tension leaving your body as the minutes tick by.

“Charles?” You say after a while, your voice soft in the darkness.

“Hmm?”

“How do you do it?” You ask. “How do you stay so calm and ... and kind, even when I’m such a mess?”

Charles is quiet for a moment, considering his words. “You’re not a mess,” he says finally. “You’re healing. And that takes time. As for staying calm ... well, I’ve had my own struggles. I know what it’s like to need someone in your corner.”

You lift your head slightly, looking up at him. “What do you mean?”

Charles takes a deep breath. He’s never been one to open up easily, but something about the quiet intimacy of the moment makes him want to share.

“Seven years ago now, I lost my father,” he says softly. “It was ... it was the hardest thing I’ve ever been through. There were nights when I thought the pain would swallow me whole. But I had people who stood by me, who helped me through it. They taught me the importance of being there for others in their darkest moments.”

You’re silent for a long moment, absorbing his words. “I’m so sorry about your father,” you say finally. “That must have been awful.”

Charles nods, feeling the familiar ache in his chest. “It was. But it also taught me something important. Pain doesn’t last forever. It changes you, yes, but it doesn’t define you. You can come out the other side stronger.”

“Do you really believe that?” You ask, a hint of doubt in your voice.

“I do,” Charles says firmly. “I’ve seen it in myself, and I see it in you too. You’re stronger than you know.”

You’re quiet again, and Charles can almost hear the wheels turning in your mind. “I want to believe that,” you say eventually. “But sometimes it feels like ... like I’ll never be whole again.”

Charles tightens his embrace slightly. “Healing isn’t about going back to who you were before,” he says. “It’s about becoming someone new. Someone who carries the lessons of the past but isn’t defined by them.”

You nod slowly, considering his words. “That makes sense,” you admit. “It’s just ... it’s hard to see that future sometimes.”

“I know,” Charles says softly. “But that’s why you’re not alone in this. I’m here to remind you of that future when you can’t see it yourself.”

You lift your head again, meeting his gaze in the dim light. “Why are you doing all this for me? You barely know me.”

Charles is struck by the vulnerability in your eyes. He takes a moment to gather his thoughts before responding.

“Because when I saw you that day, something inside me just ... knew I had to help,” he says. “I can’t explain it rationally. But I believe that sometimes, people come into our lives for a reason. Maybe I’m meant to help you heal. Or maybe you’re meant to teach me something. I don’t know. But I do know that I want to be here for you, if you’ll let me.”

You study his face for a long moment, as if searching for any sign of insincerity. Finding none, you lay your head back on his chest.

“Thank you,” you whisper. “For everything.”

Charles feels a warmth spread through his chest. “You don’t need to thank me,” he says. “Just focus on healing. And remember, you’re not alone in this.”

You nod against his chest, and Charles can feel your body relaxing further. Your breathing becomes slower, more even, and he knows you’re drifting off to sleep.

As the night deepens around you, Charles finds himself wide awake, acutely aware of your warm presence against him. He’s never been in a situation quite like this before, and he’s surprised by how natural it feels.

He thinks about the past few days, about the small victories you’ve already achieved. The way your eyes lit up when you toured the university campus. The quiet determination in your voice when you asked about application procedures. The shy smile that appeared when he showed you around Monaco.

Charles knows the road ahead won’t be easy. There will likely be more nights like this, more nightmares to soothe. But looking down at your peaceful face, finally relaxed in sleep, he feels a surge of hope.

Whatever challenges lie ahead, he’ll be there to face them with you. And somehow, he knows that together, you’ll both come out stronger on the other side.

As the first light of dawn begins to creep through the windows, Charles finally feels his own eyes growing heavy. He allows himself to drift off, still holding you close, a silent promise of protection in his embrace.

In the quiet of the early morning, as the world outside begins to stir, there’s a sense of peace in the room. It’s fragile, perhaps, but it’s there. And for now, in this moment, it’s enough.

***

The first rays of sunlight filter through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. Charles stirs, slowly becoming aware of his surroundings. He feels a weight against his chest and looks down to see you still nestled in his arms, your breathing deep and even.

For a moment, he simply watches you sleep, struck by how peaceful you look compared to the night before. He’s careful not to move, not wanting to disturb your rest. But as the room grows brighter, he sees your eyelids begin to flutter.

You blink awake, confusion briefly clouding your features before recognition sets in. “Charles?” You murmur, your voice still thick with sleep.

“Good morning,” he says softly, offering a gentle smile. “How are you feeling?”

You shift slightly, seeming to become aware of your position. A blush creeps across your cheeks as you pull back a bit. “I’m ... I’m okay,” you say. “I’m sorry about last night. You didn’t have to stay.”

Charles shakes his head. “Don’t apologize. I wanted to stay. I’m just glad you were able to get some rest.”

You nod, running a hand through your tousled hair. “Thank you,” you say quietly. “For everything. I don’t know what I would have done if ...”

Your voice trails off, but Charles understands. “Hey,” he says, gently tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. “You don’t need to think about that. You’re here now, and you’re safe. That’s what matters.”

A small smile tugs at the corners of your mouth. “You’re right. I just ... I’m not used to someone being so kind without expecting anything in return.”

Charles feels a pang in his chest at your words. “Well, get used to it,” he says, injecting a lightness into his tone. “Because that’s just how things work in the Leclerc household.”

You laugh softly, the sound warming Charles from the inside out. “Is that so?”

“Absolutely,” Charles grins. ���It’s in the contract. Kindness, comfort, and an abundance of croissants. Speaking of which, are you hungry? I could whip up some breakfast.”

You nod, sitting up slowly. “Breakfast sounds great. But you don’t have to cook. I can manage.”

Charles waves off your protest as he sits up as well. “Nonsense. I insist. Besides, I make a mean omelette. You haven’t lived until you’ve tried my secret recipe.”

Your eyebrows raise in amusement. “Secret recipe, huh? Do I get to know what’s in it?”

Charles taps the side of his nose conspiratorially. “If I told you, it wouldn’t be a secret anymore, would it? You’ll just have to trust me.”

As he moves to get out of bed, a thought strikes him. He hesitates for a moment, then turns back to you. “Actually, before we head to the kitchen, there’s something I wanted to ask you.”

You look at him curiously, a hint of apprehension in your eyes. “Oh?”

Charles takes a deep breath, suddenly feeling nervous. “I was wondering if ... well, if you might want to come to my next race with me?”

Your eyes widen in surprise. “Your next race?”

Charles nods, watching your reaction carefully. “Yeah. It’s in a couple of weeks. I thought maybe a change of scenery might be good for you. Plus, you’d get to see what I do up close. But if it’s too soon, or if you’re not comfortable with the idea, I completely understand.”

You’re quiet for a moment, biting your lip as you consider his offer. “I don’t know,” you say hesitantly. “It’s not that I don’t want to. It’s just ... the last time I was at a race ...”

Understanding dawns on Charles’s face. “Oh, of course. I’m sorry, I should have thought of that. We don’t have to go if it brings up bad memories.”

You shake your head quickly. “No, it’s not that. Well, not entirely. It’s just ... I’m worried about being recognized. What if Jake sees me on TV or something?”

Charles leans forward, his expression serious. “Hey, look at me. If you come to the race, you’ll be under the full protection of the team. No one gets near the garage without proper clearance. And as for TV, well, we can make sure you’re not caught on camera if that’s what you want.”

You still look uncertain. “But won’t people wonder who I am? I don’t want to cause any trouble for you or your team.”

Charles can’t help but smile at your concern. “Trust me, the team has dealt with far more complicated situations than this. If anyone asks, we’ll simply say you’re a family friend. No one needs to know the details.”

He watches as you mull over his words, hope building in his chest. Finally, you look up at him, a small smile playing at your lips. “You really want me to come?”

Charles nods emphatically. “I really do. I think it could be good for you. A chance to create some new, positive memories associated with racing. Plus,” he adds with a grin, “I’d love for you to see me in action. I promise I’ll try to put on a good show.”

You laugh, the sound lightening the mood in the room. “Oh, is that so? Pretty confident, aren’t you?”

Charles shrugs, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “What can I say? I aim to impress.”

You shake your head in amusement, but Charles can see you’re still hesitating. “You don’t have to decide right now,” he says gently. “Take some time to think about it. The offer stands whenever you’re ready.”

You nod, looking grateful for the lack of pressure. “Thank you, Charles. I’ll think about it, I promise.”

“That’s all I ask,” he says, standing up and stretching. “Now, how about that breakfast? I believe I promised you a life-changing omelette.”

As you make your way to the kitchen, Charles can’t help but feel a sense of anticipation. He knows he’s taking a risk by inviting you to the race so soon, but something tells him it’s the right move. He’s seen glimpses of your strength over the past few days, and he believes that this could be a crucial step in your healing process.

In the kitchen, Charles busies himself with preparing breakfast, stealing glances at you as you settle at the counter. You still look a bit hesitant, but there’s a spark in your eyes that wasn’t there before.

“So,” he says as he cracks eggs into a bowl, “while you’re thinking about the race, why don’t you tell me more about your law studies? Any particular area you’re most interested in?”

You perk up at the question, and Charles listens intently as you launch into an enthusiastic explanation of your passion for human rights law. As he watches you speak, animated and engaged, he feels a warmth spread through his chest.

This, he thinks, is what healing looks like. Small steps, day by day, reclaiming pieces of yourself. And if he can play even a small part in that process, well, that’s a victory more satisfying than any podium finish.

As he serves up the omelettes, Charles makes a silent promise to himself. Whatever you decide about the race, whatever challenges lie ahead, he’ll be there. Supporting you, cheering you on, just as fiercely as any fan in the grandstands.

Because in this moment, watching you take your first bite and exclaim over his “secret recipe,” Charles realizes something important. In helping you find your strength, he’s discovering new depths of his own.

***

The energy in the paddock is electric as Charles makes his way to the Ferrari garage. He can feel the excitement buzzing through the air, the anticipation of the race to come. But today, there’s an extra flutter in his stomach that has nothing to do with pre-race jitters.

He spots you standing near the back of the garage, looking a bit overwhelmed by the flurry of activity around you. Your eyes light up when you see him, and he can’t help but smile.

“Hey,” he says, approaching you. “How are you holding up?”

You give him a small smile. “It’s ... a lot. But exciting. I can’t believe I’m actually here.”

Charles nods, understanding. “I know it can be overwhelming at first. But you’re doing great. And I have a little surprise for you.”

Your eyebrows raise in curiosity. “A surprise? Charles, you didn’t have to-”

He cuts you off with a grin. “I wanted to. Come on, I’ll show you.”

Charles leads you to a quieter corner of the garage where his race gear is laid out. He picks up his helmet, turning it so you can see the design.

Your eyes widen as you spot the purple ribbon painted prominently on the side. “Is that ...”

Charles nods, his expression softening. “A domestic violence awareness ribbon. I had it added for this race.”

You’re quiet for a moment, your fingers hovering over the ribbon without quite touching it. When you look up at Charles, your eyes are shining with unshed tears. “Why?” You ask softly.

Charles takes a deep breath. “Because I want to use my platform to raise awareness. And because ...” he pauses, meeting your gaze, “because I want you to know that you’re not alone. That there are people out there who care and want to help.”

You blink rapidly, trying to hold back tears. “Charles, I don’t know what to say. This is ... it’s incredible.”

He reaches out, gently squeezing your hand. “You don’t have to say anything. Just know that when I’m out there on the track today, I’m racing for you and for everyone who’s been in your position.”

You nod, unable to speak. Charles understands the emotions you’re feeling — he’s feeling them too.

A voice calls out from across the garage. “Charles! Five minutes!”

Charles turns back to you. “I’ve got to go get ready. Will you be okay?”

You take a deep breath, composing yourself. “I’ll be fine. Go. And Charles?” You meet his eyes, a small smile on your face. “Thank you. For everything.”

He nods, giving your hand one last squeeze before heading off to finish his pre-race preparations.

The race itself is a blur of adrenaline and focus. Charles pushes himself to the limit, hyper-aware of the special helmet he’s wearing and what it represents. When he crosses the finish line in second place, his heart is pounding with more than just exertion.

As he pulls into parc fermé, Charles can see the crowd of reporters already gathering. He takes a deep breath, knowing what’s coming. Sure enough, as soon as he steps foot in the media pen, he’s surrounded by microphones and cameras.

“Charles! Congratulations on P2!” One reporter calls out. “But everyone’s talking about your helmet today. Can you tell us about the ribbon?”

Charles nods, his expression turning serious. “The ribbon on my helmet today is a symbol of awareness for domestic violence. It’s an issue that affects millions of people around the world, and I wanted to use this platform to bring attention to it.”

Another reporter jumps in. “Was there a specific reason you chose this race to highlight this cause?”

Charles pauses, carefully considering his words. “I believe that as public figures, we have a responsibility to use our voices for good. Domestic violence is a problem that often stays hidden, and I want to help bring it into the light.”

“Will the helmet be part of any specific initiative?” A third reporter asks.

Charles nods, a small smile playing at his lips. “Yes, actually. I’m going to be auctioning off this helmet, with all proceeds going to charities that combat domestic violence and support survivors.”

There’s a murmur of approval from the gathered press. “That’s a wonderful gesture,” one reporter says. “Can you tell us more about why this cause is so important to you?”

Charles takes a deep breath, his eyes briefly scanning the crowd. He spots you standing at the back, partially hidden behind a barrier. Your eyes meet, and he draws strength from your presence.

“It’s important because it’s a problem that affects so many people, yet it’s often overlooked or ignored,” Charles says, his voice steady and clear. “I ... I have seen firsthand the devastating impact it can have on someone’s life. And I want to do whatever I can to help break the cycle of violence and provide support for those who need it.”

There’s a moment of silence as the reporters absorb his words. Then the questions start flying again.

“Have you partnered with any specific organizations for this initiative?”

“Do you plan to continue raising awareness for this cause in future races?”

“How do you balance your focus on racing with your desire to address social issues?”

Charles answers each question thoughtfully, his passion for the cause evident in every word. As the press conference winds down, he can’t help but feel a sense of pride. Not just for his performance on the track, but for using his platform to make a difference.

As he makes his way back to the Ferrari garage, Charles spots you waiting for him. Your eyes are bright with emotion, and he can see the pride and gratitude written all over your face.

“That was amazing,” you say as he approaches. “I can’t believe you did all that.”

Charles shrugs, suddenly feeling a bit shy. “It was the least I could do. I hope it helps, even if it’s just a little bit.”

You shake your head, a soft laugh escaping you. “A little bit? Charles, do you have any idea how much impact something like this can have? You just brought attention to this issue in front of millions of people.”

He nods, the weight of what he’s done starting to sink in. “I just hope it makes a difference. That it helps someone out there feel less alone.”

You reach out, squeezing his hand. “It already has,” you say softly.

Charles feels a warmth spread through his chest at your words. He opens his mouth to respond, but before he can, a voice calls out from behind him.

“Charles! A word?”

Charles turns to see a familiar face — Federica, a respected journalist he’s known for years. She approaches with a warm smile, notepad in hand.

“Federica,” Charles greets her. “How are you?”

“I’m well, thank you,” she replies. “That was quite a statement you made out there today. I was hoping we could talk a bit more about it. Off the record, if you prefer.”

Charles glances at you, silently asking if you’re okay with this. You nod encouragingly.

“Sure,” Charles says. “What would you like to know?”

Federica’s expression turns serious. “I’ve known you for a while now. This isn’t just a random cause you’ve picked up. There’s a personal connection here, isn’t there?”

Charles takes a deep breath, weighing his words carefully. He feels you shift closer to him, offering silent support.

“You’re right,” he says finally. “It is personal. I can’t go into details, but ... I’ve seen up close how devastating domestic violence can be. And I realized that I had an opportunity to do something about it.”

Federica nods, her eyes softening with understanding. “That’s very brave of you, Charles. Both to take this stand and to admit the personal connection. Can I ask what made you decide to do it now?”

Charles glances at you again, a small smile playing at his lips. “Let’s just say I’ve been inspired by someone very brave. Someone who showed me that it’s possible to turn pain into purpose.”

Federica follows his gaze, her eyebrows raising slightly as she notices you for the first time. “I see,” she says, a knowing look in her eye. “Well, I think what you’re doing is wonderful. And I would be happy to help spread the word about the helmet auction, if you’d like.”

Charles nods gratefully. “That would be amazing. Thank you.”

As Federica walks away, Charles turns back to you. “I hope that was okay,” he says softly. “I didn’t want to say too much, but ...”

You shake your head, cutting him off. “It was perfect. Really. I ... I don’t know how to thank you for all of this.”

Charles reaches out, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “You don’t have to thank me. Seeing you here, seeing how far you’ve come ... that’s all the thanks I need.”

For a moment, you just look at each other, a wealth of unspoken emotions passing between you. Then, impulsively, you step forward and wrap your arms around Charles in a tight hug.

He returns the embrace without hesitation, holding you close. In that moment, surrounded by the noise and chaos of the paddock, Charles feels a sense of peace wash over him.

This, he thinks, is what really matters. Not the podiums or the points, but the ability to make a difference. To help someone heal and find their strength again.

As you pull back from the hug, Charles sees something new in your eyes. A spark of determination, of hope for the future. And he knows, without a doubt, that this is just the beginning of something beautiful.

***

The late afternoon sun streams through the windows of Charles’ Monaco apartment, warming the living room. Charles is sprawled on the couch, idly scrolling through his phone, when he hears a sudden gasp from the kitchen.

“Oh my god,” your voice carries through the apartment, a mix of shock and something else Charles can’t quite place.

He sits up, instantly alert. “Everything okay?” He calls out, already moving towards the kitchen.

You appear in the doorway, your face flushed and your eyes wide. You’re clutching your phone like a lifeline, and there’s an energy radiating from you that Charles has never seen before.

“I ... I got in,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Charles furrows his brow, confused for a moment before realization dawns. “The university? You heard back?”

You nod, a smile breaking across your face like the sun emerging from behind clouds. “I got in, Charles. They accepted me!”

The joy in your voice is infectious, and Charles feels his own face split into a grin. “That’s amazing!” He exclaims, stepping towards you. “I knew you could do it!”

What happens next seems to unfold in slow motion. You close the distance between you in two quick steps, and before Charles can process what’s happening, your lips are on his.

The kiss is brief, a burst of spontaneous happiness, but it sends a jolt through Charles’ entire body. For a split second, he’s frozen, his mind struggling to catch up with the reality of your lips against his.

But as quickly as it began, it’s over. You pull back abruptly, your eyes wide with shock at your own actions. “Oh god,” you stammer, taking a step back. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to ... I was just excited and I ...”

Charles can see the panic rising in your eyes, the fear that you’ve crossed a line. He wants to reassure you, to tell you that it’s okay, more than okay, but you’re already backing away, words tumbling out in a rush.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. I don’t know what I was thinking. Please don’t be mad, I-”

“Hey,” Charles cuts in gently, reaching out to catch your hand before you can retreat further. “Stop apologizing.”

You freeze, uncertainty written all over your face. “But I-”

Charles shakes his head, a soft smile playing at his lips. “You have nothing to be sorry for. In fact ...” he takes a deep breath, gathering his courage. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you for months.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. “You ... you have?”

Charles nods, his thumb tracing small circles on the back of your hand. “I have. But I didn’t want to rush you. I wanted to give you time to heal, to find yourself again.”

You’re quiet for a moment, processing his words. “So you’re not ... upset?”

Charles can’t help but chuckle. “Upset? No, definitely not upset. More like ... thrilled. And maybe a little disappointed in myself for not making the first move.”

A small smile tugs at the corners of your mouth. “Really?”

“Really,” Charles confirms. He takes a step closer, his free hand coming up to gently cup your cheek. “In fact, if you’re okay with it, I’d really like to kiss you again. Properly this time.”

You nod, a mix of nervousness and anticipation in your eyes. “I’d like that,” you whisper.

Charles leans in slowly, giving you plenty of time to change your mind. But you don’t pull away. Instead, you meet him halfway, your lips connecting in a kiss that’s soft and sweet and full of promise.

This time, Charles is fully present in the moment. He savors the feeling of your lips against his, the warmth of your body as you step closer. His hand slides from your cheek to the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair.

When you finally break apart, you’re both a little breathless. Charles rests his forehead against yours, a smile playing at his lips.

“Wow,” you murmur.

“Yeah,” Charles agrees. “Wow indeed.”

For a moment, you just stand there, wrapped in each other’s arms. Then Charles remembers what started all this.

“So,” he says, pulling back slightly to meet your eyes. “You got into law school. We should celebrate!”

You laugh, the sound light and carefree in a way Charles has never heard before. “I almost forgot about that for a second there.”

Charles grins. “Well, we can’t have that. It’s not every day you get accepted to study law at the International University of Monaco. This calls for champagne!”

He starts to move towards the kitchen, but you tug on his hand, pulling him back. “Wait,” you say softly. “Before we celebrate ... can we talk about this?” You gesture between the two of you.

Charles nods, his expression turning serious. “Of course. What do you want to know?”

You bite your lip, suddenly looking uncertain. “I just ... where do we go from here? I mean, I like you, Charles. A lot. But I’m still ... I’m still healing. And I don’t want to complicate things or ruin our friendship if-”

Charles cuts you off gently, taking both of your hands in his. “Hey, look at me,” he says softly. When you meet his gaze, he continues. “I like you too. A lot. And I understand that you’re still healing. I don’t want to rush anything or pressure you in any way.”

You nod, relief evident in your eyes. “So what do we do?”

Charles smiles. “We take it slow. We keep being friends, but we also explore these new feelings. And most importantly, we communicate. If at any point you feel overwhelmed or want to slow things down, you tell me. Okay?”

“Okay,” you agree, a small smile playing at your lips. “And what if ... what if I want to speed things up sometimes?”

Charles feels a warmth spread through his chest at your words. “Then we can do that too. As long as we’re both comfortable and on the same page.”

You nod, looking more relaxed now. “I think I can handle that.”

“Good,” Charles says, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “Now, about that champagne ...”

As Charles moves to the kitchen to fetch the bottle, he can’t help but feel a sense of excitement bubbling up inside him. This thing between you is new and fragile, but it’s also full of potential. And he’s determined to nurture it, to give it the time and care it needs to grow into something beautiful.

He returns with two glasses and the champagne, finding you settled on the couch. As he pours, he can’t help but steal glances at you. There’s a glow about you that has nothing to do with the afternoon sun — it’s the light of new beginnings, of hope for the future.

“A toast,” Charles says, handing you a glass. “To new adventures in education and ... other areas.”

You laugh, clinking your glass against his. “To new adventures,” you agree.

As you sip the champagne, a comfortable silence falls between you. Charles finds himself marveling at how far you’ve come in the past few months. From the scared, broken woman he first met to this confident woman embarking on a new chapter of her life.

“What are you thinking about?” You ask, noticing his contemplative expression.

Charles smiles. “Just ... how proud I am of you. You’ve come so far, and now you’re starting this new journey. It’s inspiring.”

You blush slightly at his words. “I couldn’t have done it without you, you know. Your support has meant everything.”

“You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for,” Charles insists. “But I’m glad I could help. And I’ll be here to support you through your studies too. Although,” he adds with a grin, “I’m not sure how much help I’ll be with law textbooks.”

You laugh, leaning into him slightly. “I’m sure you’ll find ways to be helpful. Moral support is important too, you know.”

Charles wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer. “Well, in that case, I’m your man. Moral support is my specialty.”

As the afternoon fades into evening, you and Charles talk about everything and nothing. You discuss your hopes for university, your fears, your dreams for the future. Charles shares stories from his racing career, anecdotes he’s never told anyone else.

And through it all, there’s a new undercurrent of electricity between you. A spark ignited by that spontaneous kiss, fueled by the promise of something more.

As the sky outside turns a deep indigo, Charles finds himself marveling at the unexpected turns life can take. A few months ago, he was just a driver focused on his next win. Now, he’s sitting here with you, on the cusp of something that feels bigger and more important than any championship.

“What are you smiling about?” You ask, noticing his expression.

Charles pulls you closer, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “Just thinking about how sometimes the best things in life are the ones you never see coming.”

You snuggle into his side, a contented sigh escaping you. “I couldn’t agree more.”

***

Five Years Later

The sun shines brightly on the streets of Monaco as Charles stands before a modest but elegant building, his heart swelling with pride. He glances at you, standing beside him in a crisp power suit, your eyes sparkling with excitement and determination. It’s a look he’s come to know well over the past five years, but today it seems to shine even brighter.

“Are you ready for this?” Charles asks, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

You turn to him, a radiant smile spreading across your face. “I’ve been ready for this my whole life,” you reply, your voice steady and sure.

Charles feels a surge of love and admiration wash over him. He remembers the scared, broken woman he met all those years ago, and marvels at the strong, confident woman you’ve become. His wife. His partner in every sense of the word.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” a voice calls out, drawing their attention to the small crowd gathered before them. “We are here today to celebrate the grand opening of the Leclerc Center for Domestic Violence Support and Legal Aid.”

A round of applause breaks out, and Charles feels you squeeze his hand tighter. He knows how much this moment means to you, how hard you’ve worked to make it a reality.

The speaker, a distinguished-looking woman in her fifties, continues. “This center represents a beacon of hope for those who have suffered in silence, a promise that they are not alone, and that help is available. And we have two very special people to thank for making this dream a reality.”

She gestures towards Charles and you. “Charles and Y/N, would you like to say a few words before we cut the ribbon?”

Charles looks at you, silently asking if you want to speak first. You nod, stepping forward with the confidence of someone who has found their true calling.

“Thank you all for being here today,” you begin, your voice clear and strong. “This center is more than just a building. It’s a promise. A promise to every person out there who’s suffering in an abusive relationship that there is hope, there is help, and there is a way out.”

Charles watches you speak, feeling a swell of pride. He remembers the countless late nights you spent poring over law books, the tears of frustration and determination as you fought your way through law school. And now here you are, a fully qualified attorney, using your hard-earned skills to help others who were once in your position.

“I stand here today not just as a lawyer, not just as the co-founder of this center, but as someone who has been where many of our future clients are right now,” you continue, your voice wavering slightly with emotion. “I know the fear, the doubt, the feeling of being trapped. But I also know the incredible strength that lies within each survivor. And it is my deepest hope that this center will help them find that strength, just as I did.”

As you step back, wiping a tear from your eye, Charles pulls you into a quick, supportive hug before stepping forward himself.

“When I met my wife five years ago,” he begins, his voice thick with emotion, “I was just a driver who thought he had it all figured out. But she opened my eyes to a world I knew little about, and showed me that sometimes the most important battles are the ones fought off the track.”

He pauses, looking out at the crowd. He sees familiar faces — fellow drivers who’ve supported this project, team members who’ve become like family, and new faces too — survivors, advocates, people who believe in the mission of this center.

“This center is a dream that we’ve shared for years,” Charles continues. “A dream of creating a safe space where survivors can find legal support, counseling, and most importantly, hope. And while I may not be the one providing legal advice,” he adds with a chuckle, earning a laugh from the crowd, “I promise to support this center and its mission in every way I can.”

He turns to you, his eyes shining with love and admiration. “And to my incredible wife, who has been the driving force behind all of this — thank you. For your strength, your determination, and for showing me what true courage looks like every single day.”

As Charles steps back, the crowd erupts in applause. You reach for his hand, intertwining your fingers with his as the official hands you a large pair of scissors.

“Are you ready to do the honors?” The official asks.

You and Charles share a look, years of unspoken understanding passing between you in that moment. Together, you step forward, positioning the scissors at the purple ribbon stretched across the entrance.

“On the count of three,” the official announces. “One ... two ... three!”

With a satisfying snip, the ribbon falls away. The crowd cheers, and cameras flash as you and Charles stand before the open doors of the center, your shared dream finally a reality.

As the crowd begins to file inside for the reception, you turn to Charles, your eyes shining with unshed tears. “We did it,” you whisper. “We really did it.”

Charles pulls you into a tight embrace, not caring about the cameras still flashing around them. “You did it,” he murmurs into your hair. “I just followed your lead.”

You pull back, shaking your head with a fond smile. “We’re a team, remember?”

Charles laughs, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. “How could I forget?”

As you make your way inside, greeting guests and answering questions, Charles finds himself reflecting on the journey that brought you both to this moment. The ups and downs, the challenges and triumphs, all leading to this day.

A familiar face approaches — Federica, the journalist who had interviewed Charles after that fateful race five years ago. “Charles, Y/N,” she greets you warmly. “Congratulations on this amazing achievement. Would you mind if I asked you a few questions?”

You nod, your professional demeanor sliding into place. “Of course. What would you like to know?”

“This center is quite different from the usual celebrity charity projects,” Federica begins. “Can you tell me what inspired you to take such a hands-on approach?”

You and Charles share a look, silently deciding who should answer. Charles gives a small nod, encouraging you to take the lead.

“For us, this isn’t about charity in the traditional sense,” you explain. “It’s about using our resources and platform to create real, tangible change. As a survivor myself, I know firsthand how crucial legal support can be in escaping an abusive situation. But I also know how intimidating and overwhelming the legal system can seem.”

Charles watches as you speak, marveling at your eloquence and passion. He remembers the early days of your relationship, when you would sometimes struggle to find your voice. Now, you command the room with ease.

“Our goal with this center,” you continue, “is to provide comprehensive support — legal aid, counseling, practical assistance — all under one roof. We want to remove as many barriers as possible for those seeking help.”

Federica nods, scribbling in her notepad. “And Charles,” she turns to him, “how do you see your role in all of this?”

Charles straightens, his expression serious. “My role is to support this center and its mission in every way I can. Whether that’s using my platform to raise awareness, helping to secure funding, or simply being here to show that everyone can and should be allies in this fight against domestic violence.”

You reach for his hand, giving it a squeeze. Charles feels a surge of gratitude for your unwavering support, both in this project and in his career.

“And how do you balance this work with racing?” Federica asks.

Charles smiles. “It’s all about priorities. Racing is my passion, but this center, and the work we do here, that’s my purpose. I’m fortunate to have a team and sponsors who understand and support that.”

As Federica thanks the two of you and moves on to speak with other guests, Charles turns to you. “You were amazing,” he says softly. “I’m so proud of you.”

You lean into him slightly, a soft smile playing at your lips. “We were amazing,” you correct him. “I couldn’t have done any of this without you.”

Before Charles can respond, another guest approaches, asking for a tour of the facilities. As you lead the way, explaining the various services the center will offer, Charles hangs back slightly, simply observing.

He watches as you point out the private consultation rooms, the children’s play area designed to make the center welcoming for families, the state-of-the-art security systems put in place to ensure client safety. Your eyes light up as you describe the pro bono legal services, the partnerships with local shelters and support groups, the education and prevention programs you hope to implement.

In this moment, seeing you in your element, Charles is struck anew by how far you’ve both come. From that terrifying night in the paddock to this day of hope and new beginnings, it’s been a journey neither of you could have anticipated.

As the day winds down and the last of the guests depart, Charles finds you standing in the main reception area, looking around with a mix of awe and determination.

“Penny for your thoughts?” He asks, wrapping an arm around your waist.

You lean into him, letting out a contented sigh. “I was just thinking about all the lives we’re going to change here. All the people we’re going to help.”

Charles presses a kiss to your temple. “You’ve already changed so many lives, you know. Including mine.”

You turn to face him, your eyes shining with love and gratitude. “We’ve changed each other’s lives. And now we get to pay it forward.”

As Charles looks at you, his partner in every sense of the word, he knows that whatever challenges lie ahead, you’ll face them together. Just as you always have.

“Ready to go home?” He asks softly.

You nod, taking one last look around the center. “Yes,” you say, your voice filled with quiet determination. “But we’ll be back bright and early tomorrow. We’ve got work to do.”

Charles smiles, taking your hand as you walk towards the exit. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

[batmanego]

as a person whose family survived the actual literal pogroms in ukraine in the early 1900s and had to flee to america in order to survive i cant describe how it feels watching you people label a bunch of IOF reservists chanting "finish the arabs" rightfully get the shit kicked out of them a pogrom. you zionists and zionist sympathizers make a big deal about holocaust comparisons making light of the suffering of our people, but then you turn around and pull this shit. do you have any idea the kind of devastation the actual pogroms wreaked on jewish communities and families? on my family? the people who got beat up in amsterdam were not beat up for being jewish, they were beat up for running through the streets chanting genocidal rhetoric. do you guys also think richard spencer shouldnt have been punched? you people make me sick

[beloveds-embrace]

can we get Duchess reader yearning for a baby of her own 🥺 imagine there was a Ball in the neighboring kingdom and Duchess!Reader and Duke!Price was invited, celebrating the birth of the Kingdom’s new heir, a baby boy on her fellow Duchess’s arms.

And reader coos at the baby while masking the deep ache in her heart thinking that it’ll be so impossible to have a baby with her husband due to him and his lovers 😢

cue to Duchess!Reader having a heavy heart through out the entire event and even the days after that, until one of our boys asks her what wrong.

(And John having to hold Johnny back bc that nasty dog has been waiting to get his paws on her since forever)

Oh my god yes??? Anon i could smooch your brain right now yes??? This is so good i love it. Sorry for the abrupt ending though, had no idea how to finish it off 😔

Original Post

“Such an adorable little one,” you coo softly, the newborn held delicately and carefully in your arms, swaddled in the baby blue blankets you and John had bought among your other gifts for your fellow Duke and Duchess. “He looks so much like you, I’m in awe.”

Your friend laughs lightly, sipping on her drink. With a soft sigh, she leans closer towards you. The party is in full swing, so many other nobles mingling and networking, but thankfully you and your friend have your own little corner for now and everyone has already congratulated her and her husband.

“So,” she begins, her eyes flickering towards where both of you two’s husbands are speaking. The smiles on their faces are clearly happy, though you aren’t surprised; John had mentioned that he’s already friends with the Duke during the carriage ride. “So. What about you and Duke Price, hm? Any surprises we should prepare for?”

Ah. You had been dreading this.

You sigh, shaking your head. Though the smile returns as you gaze at the napping baby, so small and precious in your arms. With you friend’s permission, you gently kiss his tiny little fists. “Not at all. We are happy as we are.”

And it’s not as if you are lying by any means, oh no. You are happy. Life as Duchess was far, far much better than you had expected it’d be, a lot less restrictive than you had prepared for it to be.

But…

You can’t lie to yourself. You’ve been feeling a sense of discontent from the very second you stepped into the gala venue. Perhaps for even longer, though it hadn’t been especially felt until this moment. Not until you held this baby in your arms.

You want a baby, too, you had realized. Motherhood. A child all yours, calling you momma and toddling into your arms. You had been unable to stop yourself from feeling the little bud of jealousy towards your friend, because you knew you’d likely never experience such a thing due to your unique situation.

John has his own partners whom he loves. You weren’t among that list, and you didn’t particularly enjoy the idea of having sex with another man with the potential risk of your parents, or anyone else, asking for a paternity test because you know someone would ask. Your mother, probably; she was always warning you not to whore yourself out, and your father didn’t even need to say anything-

“My dear?”

John’s concerned voice pulls you out of your thoughts, his hand gentle on your elbow, and it’s only then you realize you had been staring down at the baby with such sadness, so not befitting of such a beautiful gala. So you shake your head, clearing your thoughts, and turn to him and your friend's husband.

When the baby squirms, you coo softly and hand him back to your friends, gentle and careful. That's when you turn to John, giving him a simple smile. "Yes, Your Grace?"

The worry remains on his face, less visible however, and his eyes look over you carefully. Your friends are too busy with their son and showing him off to care about what you two are saying in the corner he’s led you to. "Are you alright?”

As if you’d ever tell him what the issue is. You don’t want to make John feel pressured into this, of all things. You’d rather be divorced than do so, and that should speak volumes on its own.

It’s a silly want, anyways. You have everything you could possible need right now, married and stable. You aren’t about to ruin it with your own two hands.

So you nod your head, and brush away all thoughts of a little baby cradled in your arms. “Yes, I am. I was just lost in thought. Shall we return to the party?”

John observes you for a few seconds more, and then he sighs and nods. “Very well. Would you do me the honor of this dance, my dear Duchess?”

Between the dazzling lights and John’s arms, you can almost forget the lingering desire.

But over the next few days after the gala, it becomes clear to John- to all your the men that something is terribly bothering you. There is a lingering sadness around you so profound even your maids have sensed it, wondering if perhaps you and the Duke have finally had your first fight… but he looks even more more worried and confused than them. You weren’t mad at anyone, that much he could tell, but he didn’t understand the heartache plaguing you.

“…are you sick, my lady?” Kyle asks you one day, placing down a tray of fresh desserts. Your favorites, all made by Johnny himself, yet you barely flick a look towards it.

“Not at all. Thank you, Kyle, but I’m afraid I can’t eat anything at the moment.” Your reply is soft, patient, as it always is, but the furrow in your brows remain and your frown deepens. Kyle hates it. He hates it so, so much. You’ve even stopped taking your usual break-walks, staying inside your room and asking for nothing in particular.

“My lady,” he presses on, voice softer. Comes to stand close to you, and holds his elbow out. “Maybe a walk, then? You look tired. Some sun might do you good- or a picnic? I can pack the desserts and-”

You avoid his eyes and look away, shaking your head. “Thank you, but my answer’s the same, Kyle. I’d just… like to be left alone, please. Could I trouble you to also inform John I won’t be joining him for dinner tonight?”

You are simply glad you managed to hide the little paper you’d been writing on before he came in. Baby names, for the babies you’d never have. It certainly didn’t help make your mood better, but you couldn’t help yourself. Looking at John, or any of them, also made you feel guilty anew.

“…not a problem, my lady. I’ll leave the desserts here for you just in case.”

Several days later, it’s Johnny who comes to you. You are alone in the conservatory, trying hard to get over this stupid, lingering feeling. It’s silly, you know it is, but… ugh.

Johnny says nothing even when you call his name out with a questioning tone, and much to your shock, he kneels down to take your hands in his. It’s so wholly inappropriate, and you look around in fear of anyone seeing.

“No one’s around, m’lady,” Johnny shakes his head, not letting your hands go yet.

“Johnny-“

“No one’s around.” He repeats, firmly, and his eyes gaze at you. “M’lady. Have we made ye angry? Has anyone made you upset? Is my food not to your liking?”

“Johnny…” you sigh, shaking your head. Inwardly, you scold yourself for bothering everyone like this. This should have been your issue alone to solve and hide. “No, no. Nothing like that. I just need some time alone, in general.”

“But why-“

“No particular reason.” You quickly cut him off, gently pulling your hands away. “Please, Johnny. I’ll get better soon, promise. But I just… need time.”

But the desire, the longing, still remains. You can’t even confide in anyone, so you also feel painfully lonely on top of everything else. John is still searching, still trying to find what or who’s made you like this, but not even your closest maids are of help.

Still, while you wished to wallow your misery away in your rooms and office, you didn’t have much choice when you’d received an invitation to the opera troupe funded by the Price duchy; making an appearance was a must, and unfortunately John had a very important meeting that day so Simon is the one to accompany you.

“You’ve been sad lately.” Simon doesn’t beat around the bush, all the lights focused on the stage so you are both draped in shadows, hidden from sight.

You turn to him, a refusal on your lips already-

“No.” He shakes his head. “You aren’t just tired, Duchess. You are sad. Everyone can see it, and it’s making us worried. All of us.” He adds, not letting you latch onto your usual excuse. Performance ignored, his entire attention is on you.

And you are just- too tired. Ashamed of yourself, you sigh.

“It’s awful of me…” your whisper, bottom lip quivering. “I-… I want a baby, Simon.” You admit, so softly and quietly you don’t look at his reaction to see if he’d even heard you in the first place. You shouldn’t be telling him of all people your issues, but- you can’t help yourself. “A child. I want to experience motherhood, but- I don’t, I refuse to put such a burden on John, or get in the way between all of you again-“

You ramble on, not meeting his eyes. Your hands are tembling around the mask you’d taken off, holding it in your lap.

Simon?

Simon can’t take his eyes off your stomach. You. You, pregnant; swollen and glowing with a child. Maybe children, even. Their children. His. He can’t believe this is what has had you so upset for so long; did you think they- John- would say no to you?

“Darling, ” The nickname slips out; he couldn’t help himself. He is glad the no one is paying attention to them, in the higher rows. Simon laces your pinkies together, raising your hand to kiss your knuckles, silencing your worried rambling. “Darling. Let us return home. Staying here isn’t doing you any good. Tonight, I want you to let Kyle spoil you with a warm bath, and for you to eat and then sleep. Rest. Tomorrow, we’ll speak. I’ll inform the troupe leader you weren’t feeling too well.”

“I- I… speak about what? What?”

Simon simply ushers you out, to the awaiting carriage. He doesn’t answer any of your questions, even when you pout and the it makes your lipstick glisten to prettily, though if you can feel that his hands are inappropriately tight around your waist, you simply blame it on your tightened corset.

At home, you are still confused. Simon is acting off, staring at you with a look that makes you all flustered, but you don’t protest when Kyle gently leads you away.

You’ll get your answers tomorrow, you are sure. But in the meantime…

“She wants a baby, John,” Simon groans, repeating the words again. His jacket is thrown off to the side, sleeves rolled up his elbows. Even from here, he can see how John eyes them appreciatively. “A baby, John. Seeing her pregnant-“

Another groan, but the one comes from between John’s thighs. Johnny, hands tied behind his back with Simon’s belt because the second he found out what the issue he was so, so ready to go and beg you to let him fix it. A bairn is what you want, a bairn is what he’ll give you- chunky, adorable, and hopefully looking like you.

John had to hold him back, though. He wants nothing more than to do the same, kiss you breathless and promise he’ll give you as many as you want, but he also knows you need a clear, rested head before he speaks with you.

The thought of seeing your pregnant, though, has his fist tightening in Johnny’s hair.

“I know. Fuck, I know, Si. Tomorrow, I’ll speak to her.”

[elsa-fogen]

Yep. Yeah. That's me. Almost all of it, except, i sleep well (if i manage to fall asleep) Reblogging because maybe some of you didn't know (i also didn't know)

Story time!

Too long don't read: used to sleep on private math lessons because i hate math; it takes hours for me to fall asleep WHEN I SUPPOSED TO, and my sister does it in 3-5 minutes.

I was studying at university and we had MATH there I've always had problems with it. since 5th grade i think (well, i hated math before too but real problems started there) when i changed schools and the new class was behind what I've already studied and i didn't pay attention, until i realized that at some point I was behind. I said "welp, i guess it's to late to try, so fuck it"

So at university we had this very high level math and i just couldn't understand a thing (and we had an awful teacher who was saying evvvvery time something like "yall getting expelled, we're all gonna die") so i decided "if i don't understand, fuck it then, i will not even try" and started skipping math classes.

But i STILL had to pass an exam, we were getting 3 tries and if you fail you're getting expelled. I failed first two what a surprise (i don't know how i managed to pass it after all, i can't remember SHIT, only that i is fucking non-existing number which is square root of -1. Why on earth would you need it i have NO fucking clue.

So i had personal teachers who tried to make me understand at least something to pass the exam. And there was one i remember very well, i even remember that we paid her 10$ per hour (for us that was quite a lot). And i remember her because i was SLEEPING. I just COULDN'T keep my eyes opened. She explains something about deviding by zero and my brain draws the fucking universe collapsing in front of my eyes. She gives me some task, I'm trying to write something and I'm falling asleep and DREAMING about writing, then ahe wakes me up and i see that i didn't write SHIT. It all ended when in the middle of lesson she just kicked me out.

And, what a miracle, I'm leaving her apartments and suddenly, all the sleepiness just wanishes! I'm walking home, thinking about some another AU of mine, roleplaying it with myself in my head, full of energy again.

That's not the only case of this, but it's the strongest i ever felt. But that like happens all the time, EVEN WHEN MY MOM OR MY GRANNY COMES TO ME AND START TALKING ABOUT SOMETHING I'M NOT INTERESTED, IM YAWNING AND FEEL URGE TO FALL ASLEEP. But the moment they leave, It goes away! I was calling it work allergy LMAO

I was diagnosed with adhd in my early childhood (there was also something about epilepsy, but it's ok now so it doesn't matter), not long ago i brought this fact back into my active memory (thanks to Jaiden animations ADHD video for that xD) i kinda used to myself by now and now I'm trying to catch and analyse all moments of adhd kicking in. I know my own tricks and buttons, how to make myself do the thing or just how to force myself into doing something. Because i know if i start, I'll probably lock in and won't get up until it's done (well, if i have at least a tiny bit of interest in that thing, or else i won't), and i hate it when someone interrupts me in the middle of the process. No mom, i can't come right now, i can't finish it later, because i either spend few more hours forcing myself to go back to the task or just forget about it.

But i didn't know that this sleepiness was a legit symptom! I just thought that it's exaderated boredom, that's it, had a joke name for it. That's... Funny to know that this thing is actually also adhd moment.

Also, about sleeping. I have problems falling asleep. I may lie in the bed for hours without even my phone, just rotating my stories in my head, and when i don't have a story to think about, this is just the name of my current hyperfixation with different tones and in different random dialogues that doesn't even make sense. I have no idea how to fall asleep, except when i didn't sleep for like 48 hours (EVEN THEN IT MIGHT BE A PROBLEM AND I START THINKING OF THAT CREEPY PRION SICKNESS AND SCARE MYSELF AGAIN). And my mom told me that it have always been like that with me. She and my dad had the whole ritual to make me fall asleep. Dad would hold me in his arms, his head with me covered with a blanket that i could only see his face (or else I would look everywhere and never fall asleep), and rock me for HOURS while i was SCREAMING and CRYING the whole time like i was tortured. But when I'd finally fall asleep, they could be as loud as usual and didn't have to whisper, because wake me up is a whole different story. And my mom was SHOCKED when all it took to make my sister fall asleep was just pet her back for 3-5 minutes.

I don't think of myself as... Sick or ill. That's how i was all my life, i don't know anything else. That's not a sickness to me, that's just part of my personality. Maybe sometimes some parts of it bite me in the ass and make my life harder, but i don't know other life. That's the only one I've got, and i guess I'm fine with that (tho now that i think about it, i need to pay more attention to how i write the characters, and don't make them all ADHDshers LOL i need to study neurotypical people under a microscope 🔬🔍)

bro im gonna CRY i didnt know this 🥺

[act-nat-ural]

First Sight

@dira333: what if you're related or friends with the Miya twins and they accidentally or not set you up with someone on the msby roster? Meian is really cute if you know the manga, but there's also Sakusa, Hinata or Bokuto

word count: 1782

Osamu had already closed Miya Onigiri for the day, yet his two favorite moochers were still sitting at a booth consuming his food for free. He sighs, having already locked the doors, and put the chairs on top of the tables. He takes a seat next to Atsumu and joins your guys’ conversation. “I’m just sayin’,” Atsumu starts, “If yer so lonely, go out an’ meet someone. It's not that hard.”He finishes his sentence by taking a gigantic bite. He nods to himself like he made a great point, though you and Osamu are giving him side eyes. 

“And how would ya know that? Ya haven’t gone on a date in over three months.” You point out.

Osamu snorts and adds, “Last relationship I remember you cryin’ like a baby, saying’ that ya would never love again.” 

Atsumu scoffs and mumbles a “Shuddup!” while you let out a deep sigh and rest your head on the cool surface of the table. “It's not fair.” You whine. “I've got like, no love life. Why don’t ya set me up with yer hot friends?” 

They share a look for a minute, then at the same time say “No.” You scoff and slam a hand on the table. 

“Why the hell not!” 

Osamu raises his hands in defense while Atsumu enters ‘big brother mode’. “Yer our only sister, and I love ya too much to set ya up with the idiots I call friends. Yer too good for them!” You roll your eyes but he continues. “Omi probably has some secret girlfriend already, Shoyo only thinks about volleyball, and Koutaro’s.. Well, he's.. I dunno. But I don’t trust them with ya!”

You groan and give Osamu a pleading look. “Please?” He gives you a deadpan look.

“It's a hard no. I’d have to kill Rintaro if he even looked at ya wrong.” You groan and throw your hands in the air.

“Gimme a break! I’m a grown woman, I can handle myself.” They both burst into laughter, so you kick Atsumu under the table.

“Owch! Hey!” 

–

You were watching a movie at home by yourself when you heard your phone start to buzz. You glance away from the screen to see ‘Samu’ in bold letters pop up on your phone. You pause the move and check the text he sent you.

Samu: Hey. You still looking for a date?

Your eyes widen and you start to squeal. “Yes! ‘Samu for the win.” You start to celebrate prematurely when your phone buzzes again. 

Samu: I have an idea but Tsumu wouldn’t like it lolol

Your smile drops and you grab the phone to respond.

You: what does that even mean…

Samu: Sooo have you ever met his team before?

You: no, I’ve met Kiyoomi but only briefly. why?? who are you thinking of?? Omg 

Samu: that desperation is exactly what made me think of him LMAO

You gasp in offense and angrily respond, 

You: WTF DOES THAT MEAN 

Samu: anyway! 🙂 I was thinking of inviting some of the team to my place for dinner or something, you wanna come? you can’t tell Tsumu you’re coming though or he'd throw a fit or smth.

You chew on your lip in thought. On one hand, you really want to meet someone. On the other, if it ends up not working out, it could really make things awkward for your brother and his friends. You pause. He’ll be fine.

You: I'll be there :) love you!

Meanwhile, Osamu sighs and leans back against the headboard. “She better not say I never do anything for her. Hmph.”

Samu: love you too 🙄

–

Osamu was drying his hands when he heard the doorbell ring. “Comin’.” He opens the door and there stands Atsumu, Kiyoomi, Shoyo, and Kotaro. Atsmu gives a cheeky grin, holding up a case of beer.

“I come bearing gifts.” Koutaro blinks in confusion.

“But I bought it-”

“Shush.”

Osamu moves aside so they can all come in. “No one else comin’?” Kiyoomi shakes his head.

“Shugo was going to but he got caught up with something. The rest all had other arrangements.” Osamu nods in understanding. Shoyo immediately beelines for the kitchen.

“What smells so good? I’m starving!”

Kiyoomi furrows his brows stating, “You ate the whole way here.”

Just then, the doorbell rings again. This time there is no need to open the door, because you just so happen to have a key. “Hello!” You stroll in like you own the place. Osamu has to fight to hold his laugh in when he sees the look on Atsumu’s face. 

“I didn’t know what to bring so I just brought cookies. I think I burnt them though.” You mumble. Kiyoomi gives you a nod in acknowledgment as you set the platter of charred baked goods on the counter. “Soo… are ya gonna introduce me?”

“Samu. What is she doing here?” Atsumu chokes out. You scoff.

 “I’m literally standing right here.”

“What? I can’t invite our own sister to my apartment?” Osamu gives an innocent shrug. 

“This was supposed to be a guys night!” Atsumu complains childishly. 

Shoyo pipes in, “I don’t mind! The more people the better. Right, Bokuto? ….Bokuto?”

–

If you had asked Koutaro then, he would have sworn he had never seen a more beautiful girl. The moment you walked in the door it was like he lost all of the air in his chest. He almost texted Keiji to ask what a heart attack felt like. His heart thumped in his chest and he could feel his hands start to get sweaty. Pretty girl. I’m not good around pretty girls. 

He didn’t even realize that he was being spoken to until Shoyo poked his arm. “Huh? Wha? Oh- Yes. Stay. Please.” Everyone just kind of stares at him for a moment before moving on. He accidentally stares at you while you get introduced to Shoyo, yet you don’t notice till Atsumu tries introducing him. You give a shy smile and a wave, and that's all he needs to see to know that he's a goner. 

–

You had never taken a good look at Koutaro Bokuto before this, and boy do you wish you had. Everything about him had you feeling weak in the knees. He was very built, taking up a large portion of the sofa that he was sitting on. You had snuck a glance at his back while walking in and Jesus. That man was built like a Greek god. His golden eyes seemed to never leave your figure, and he kept giving you a dopey smile. You give a small smile back and wave, hoping you don’t make a fool of yourself. Later, you swore you saw Osamu give you a thumbs up, but he denies it.

Everyone else flocks to the kitchen to start getting something to eat, yet you and Koutaro stay behind. You hesitantly sit down beside him, a few feet away. You both give sheepish smiles directed at the other, not sure what to say. Just then, Osamu comes back. “Darn. We’re out of soy sauce. Koutaro, (Name), do ya guys mind going to the market and grabbing some?” He says, not very convincingly. 

Shoyo gives him a confused look and starts, “But there was some-” 

“Shush.”

Koutaro immediately shoots up from his seat. “Yeah, we can get it!” He gives you a beaming smile and you can’t help but return in. He lends you a hand up from the sofa, practically bouncing with excitement. “We’ll be back soon.” Osamu gives you a wink and pats your back. 

“Take your time.”

You and Koutaro are silent for a while as you walk to the nearest market. You notice that while his strides are larger than yours, he slows his pace to match yours. He shoves his hands in his pockets and takes a glance around

“So, what do you do for fun?” He turns and asks suddenly. You hum in thought.

 “I guess I hang out with my brothers a lot. I watch movies alone sometimes. Work has kept me busy recently, so I haven’t been doing much recently.” He nods in understanding.

He clears his throat before inquiring, “You don’t watch movies with your boyfriend?” 

You smile and shake your head, laughing. “No, I don’t have one.” He stops walking and gawks at you.

 “Seriously?! You're single?!” You raise your eyebrows in surprise and nod slowly. 

“Yeah.. why? Is it that surprising?” He shakes his head yes enthusiastically. 

“I totally thought you’d be married or something, you're so pretty.”

You go quiet. “Really?”

“Yes! Really! Man, I thought I had like no shot.” He adds. You both freeze and look at each other wide eyed.

 “Huh?”

 “What?”

You sputter and point at him. “Ya just- ya said ya thought-” 

“I- well-!” You both stand on the sidewalk, fidgeting with your hands. He scratches his head and blushes. “Are you free tomorrow?” 

You had never said yes faster in your life.

– 

You two were dying of laughter, wiping your eyes from tears. “Man, I wish I had sisters.” You say. 

“Yeah, they're pretty cool.” He says matter of factly. You both had gotten sidetracked and never ended up going to the market. Currently, he and you were sitting on a pair of swings at a local park. Your phone buzzes softly and you apologize to him before checking it. 

Tsumu: where tf did you go 

You: don’t cockblock me <3

Tsumu: PARDON?

You click your phone to silent before turning back to Koutaro. “Now, where were we?”

–

It only took a few dates before he asked you to be his girlfriend. You agreed, of course. You would've said yes if he had asked the night you met, if you were honest. Atsumu begrudgingly gave Koutaro his blessing to propose a couple years into dating. Osamu was a bit offended that he didn't ask him, considering he was responsible for you two meeting.

Koutaro was terrible at keeping secrets, so he ended up proposing the second he got home after ring shopping. You felt a bit ambushed, having been washing dishes in unwashed pajamas, but it was still a definite yes.

Currently, Atsumu was walking up to the mic to give a speech during your wedding. You rest your head on Koutaro’s shoulder, and he intertwines your fingers. Atsumu pokes the microphone and the feedback screeches, bothering everyone.

“Ahem. Now, if anyone knows me, they know I love my sister. That, and I only want what's best for her. That having been said, I would like a ‘thank you’ for this marriage, considering it was my idea to get ya together.”

“Liar!”

note: i just realized i keep writing the twins shushing people lol. Bokuto is so fun to write for 😭 he’s so silly

[shitsndgiggs]

Heyyy

What about something very cutesy where Kenan and reader are on vacation(where he went this summer with his friends) and reader is waiting for Kenan to get ready on their bed to go out for dinner and when he finishes he goes to her and they kiss etc and Kenan doesn’t want to leave anymore but the reader obliges him. Little messy I know😔

STAY IN? - KENAN YILDIZ

Kenan wants to stay in

Kenan Yildiz x fem! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

The hotel room was softly lit, the sounds of waves crashing on the beach outside filling the air with a peaceful rhythm.

I was sprawled across the bed, my legs dangling off the edge as I absentmindedly scrolled through my phone.

Kenan had been in the bathroom for what felt like forever, getting ready for our dinner reservations.

I sighed dramatically, calling out to him, “And you say I’m the one who takes forever to get ready? What’re you doing in there, applying a full face of makeup?”

From behind the closed door, I heard him laugh. “Patience, woman. I’m almost done,” he teased back.

I rolled my eyes, but couldn’t stop the grin spreading across my face. I was honestly just excited to spend a night out with him after our long day exploring the island.

It felt like we were in our own little world here, with no schedules, no responsibilities—just each other.

Finally, the bathroom door creaked open, and Kenan stepped out, adjusting the collar of his shirt.

My eyes traveled over him, taking in the sight of his sun-kissed skin and how ridiculously good he looked in that fitted shirt. He smirked when he caught me staring.

“What? You like what you see?” he asked, his voice a low tease as he crossed the room to me.

I shrugged, trying to play it cool. “You clean up alright, I guess,” I said, though the way my eyes lingered on him gave me away.

Kenan’s smirk widened as he leaned down over me, one hand resting on the mattress beside my head. “Just alright?” he murmured, his breath hot against my ear, sending a shiver down my spine.

“Yeah,” I teased, my heart skipping a beat as he brought his lips closer to mine. “But you really took your time in there.”

“Maybe I was trying to look good for you,” he said softly, brushing his lips over mine in a quick peck.

I let out a small, satisfied hum, intending to sit up and head to the door, but Kenan had other ideas. He caught my chin between his fingers, tilting my face back toward him.

Another kiss—slower this time, his lips lingering on mine like he was savoring the taste.

I sighed into the kiss, melting under his touch as he deepened it, turning what was supposed to be a quick peck into something that had my toes curling.

The kisses came one after another, each one slower, more drawn out than the last. Kenan’s hands slid around my waist, pulling me flush against him as he tilted his head, capturing my lips in a passionate kiss that left me breathless.

It was the kind of kiss that made the world outside fade away, the kind that made me forget about dinner reservations and everything else.

“Mmm,” Kenan hummed against my mouth, his hands sliding down to rest on my hips. “Maybe we should just stay in tonight…” He mumbled the words between kisses, his voice husky and warm.

I let out a breathless laugh, pushing lightly at his chest even as I felt myself giving in to the way his fingers traced circles against my skin. “Kenan,” I protested weakly, but he only kissed me again, his lips finding that spot just below my ear that made my knees go weak.

“Seriously,” he whispered, his lips brushing my ear, “I don’t think I can leave this room now.”

As much as I wanted to just melt into his embrace and forget all about dinner, I knew we’d regret missing it. I placed a hand on his cheek, pulling back just enough to look into his darkened eyes.

“We have a reservation,” I reminded him, though it came out in a breathless whisper.

Kenan groaned dramatically, leaning his forehead against mine. “Who cares about food when I’ve got you right here?”

I laughed, gently detangling myself from his hold and stepping back. “We can come back here after dinner,” I promised, giving him a cheeky grin. “But first, we eat.”

He gave me that adorable pout, but there was a glint in his eyes that told me he wasn’t giving up that easily. “Fine,” he sighed, grabbing my hand as I started toward the door. “But you owe me dessert when we get back.”

“That can be arranged,” I said, my heart fluttering at the way he looked at me like I was the only thing in the world that mattered.

[amourtoken]

yes PLEASE write about quinn knocking you up and also please never stop writing smut i feel FERAL

I got a couple asks about this so let me roll them all into one here yall are horny unhinged individuals together now

Quinn is unfortunately insanely susceptible to baby fever. He can't help himself, the thought of having a little extended family to provide for is sweet enough on its own but getting there is what he's really been focused on recently. He cannot clear his mind of the idea at all and it's starting to effect every aspect of his life. His thoughts are always frenzied and his brain fuzzy, he can barely focus on the ice and you constantly catch him zoned out and have to draw his attention back to you. What's he even thinking about?

This all started after he saw you interacting with some kids at a charity event. He didn't think it'd be a personal attack on his psyche to see you leaning down to their level so they felt more included while you chatted about your days or whatever random thoughts of theirs that sprung to mind. They all seemed so happy in your presence and you've always just naturally been great with kids so it's no surprise to you, but Quinn instantaneously fell victim to the infectious thought process of parenthood.

all he's thought about for days is how pretty you'd look pregnant and how good of a parent you'd be. Would your kids have your smile? Your eyes? Hopefully they had your sweet personality at the very least. You two could be the overly supportive cheesy hockey parents when your kid got a little older too, if they took after him and wanted to play. Quinn would fall down these hour long rabbit holes in his own mind of what your future would look like with an addition to the family and it was becoming more and more of a necessity every day.

Eventually it gets to a point where he can't fucking contain it anymore and he lets the idea slip while he's got you pinned to the mattress below him.

Quinn's fingers are holding your hips tight enough to bruise while he's buried inside you, panting praises and explicit compliments against your neck in rhythm with his thrusts. He can't get the image of you all pretty and pregnant out of his brain at all, the only thing keeping him from it is a thin latex and a question really. He didn't wanna ruin the moment but it was out of his control at this point, the need overtaking critical thinking skills.

"Fuck- please let me put a baby in you- shit- p-please- c-can't stop thinkin' about it- fuck i need it so bad...'m sorry-"

His voice sounded so broken, moans and whines cutting through his words against his will. You had no idea he felt this way and fuck you wish he'd said something sooner because you've been going through the same misery he has. For the same reason. The same exact event that permeated his peace with the idea of kids with you was the one that had you dizzy thinking about him being a dad. Safe to say your communication skills were lacking during this cause both of you were afraid to ask but now that you're on the same page? You're in for it.

You respond enthusiastically, nodding quickly and immediately pleading for him to do just that. Quinn's chest fluttered at your whined pleas and as much as it pained him to pull out in the moment it was definitely worth it to sink back into you raw. He wanted this to last forever but the way you felt so fucking warm and wet around him was ultimately his undoing, much to his own protest. He didn't wanna finish without dragging you along either, his thrusts fell out of rhythm as he snaked a hand between your bodies to circle your clit, trying his best to take you with him.

"Shit- you're gonna be so pretty- fuck- god I'm so fuckin' lucky-"

Your nails sunk into his shoulders as you pulled him closer, legs shaking as you tipped off the edge of your orgasm with a whine of his name. He almost immediately followed you, hands gripping behind your knees to fold you in half under him, allowing him to sink deeper than before. Quinn's vision blurred with black spots and his voice pitched up into whiney pleas as he filled you up, finally getting what's plagued him for fucking weeks now. Doesn't matter if this was the time that did it or not, he was dead set on fucking you full of his cum over and over and over until you got the results you both wanted (and then some extra for good measure ofc)

[klinefelterrible]

sooo I’m doing it for @k-kizkhalifa :} Do you daydream a lot before you write, or go for it as soon as the ideas strike?

There are times when I daydream a lot about a certain idea, like for example about the one about pairing Ron with Blaise, but mostly it’s just a Boom! and if I don’t write it now, it’s dead and gone.

Where do you get your fic ideas?

I imagine my (as in “original but in my way” or headcanonly or au) characters during certain activities (mostly: fucking) and I add something or someone extra, or I set the scene right before or after - as it comes to me.

Do you share your fic ideas, or do you keep them to yourself?

I rarely have a big idea that is different than a shortie I am writing or wrote already, but in my head it’s like once I say it, it’s done and gone - so sharing is equal to abandoning it most likely forever

How do you choose which fics to write?

Since I don’t understand the question really I will try answering how I feel it: I choose just by how I feel about right now. When I think of Eomer, I write about Eomer. As simple as that.

How many wips do you have? What fandoms/pairings are they for?

GURL YOU NOT READY!

I have many wips, mostly of HP wizarding world, and probably sometime soon I will release another chapter of two halves of Draco’s broken wand and my favourite pairing there is Draco/Bill Weasley and Fred/George/Hermione and since it’s me, it’s going to be juicy as fuck. Literally.

What’s the last line you wrote?

“He’s a cuckoo”

Post a snippet from a wip.

Post an out-of-context spoiler from a wip.

Draco is being blackmailed and fucked by Bill Weasley

Does this word [chosen by asker] appear in your current wip?

Do you work on multiple wips or stick to one fic at a time?

M u l t i p l e

Do you write scenes in order, or do you jump around?

I truly have no idea what I’m doing

Do you outline your fics? If yes, how detailed are your outlines? How far do you stray from them?

It depends. For Lucy I invented a whole new interest and branch of magical creatures for Lucius to be interested in and for the moment I was even sad that I am doing all this work to finish it with some porn scene.

Do you listen to music while you write? If yes, what have you been listening to recently?

Rarely as I am bilingual and most of the music I listen to is English so I get distracted very easily

What is your favorite location and position to write in?

Any. Sometimes I park my car on my driveway and just START WRITING

What’s your favorite time to write?

Any. No particular favourite time. But I don’t like meal time to use on writing if I really must differentiate between this or that

Do you write by hand, on your phone, or on your laptop?

99% phone.

Do you have a writing routine?

I barely have any routines!

Do you enjoy research? Which fic of yours required the most research?

Research yes, sometimes a lot! But for a fic? They don’t require much researching… maybe just checking if I remember something correctly or not.

Do you enjoy creating OCs or do you prefer to stick solely to canon characters?

I like creating OCs based on characters from other fiction and I am not ashamed at all.

Do you prefer writing AUs or canon fics?

Asking that a guy who writes hardcore gay porn from Wizarding World…

Do you prefer writing chaptered fics or one-shots?

Why not both at once?

Do you title your fics before, during, or after the writing process? How do you come up with titles?

I hate titling!

Is writing the beginning, middle, or end of the story easiest? Hardest?

I never know how to end stuff. Ever. Anything. I have to force myself to shut the fuck up.

How do you choose whose POV to write in?

I don’t like POVs

What’s your favorite part of the writing process (worldbuilding, brainstorming/outlining, writing, editing, etc)?

The part when I am just a finger that clicks and my subconsciousness does everything else.

What’s your least favorite part of the writing process?

Making sure it all makes sense! Fuck. That!

What area of writing do you feel strongest in?

Area of writing? As in I AM A DIALOGUE MASTER and a little bitch for remembering what the fuck did I start with

What area of writing do you want to improve in?

I won’t improve in remembering so maybe I can start making sense more…?

What’s something about your writing that you’re proud of?

I can make literally anything about gay men crossdressing or women wearing high heels and sometimes I can even make them sassy. I am not proud of myself at all so whatever

How much do you edit your fics? Do you edit as you write or wait until you finish the first draft?

Wips are being edited hard, especially longshots. I write, I stop, I edit two weeks later, I write and so on and it all depends on my mood.

Do you use a beta reader/editor?

Only for bigger or more serious projects and even then extremely rarely because I don’t know anyone that committed to my writing or weird enough and with so much free time

Do you take fic requests? Why or why not?

I WOULD TAKE REQUESTS ANYTIME BUT BEAR IN MIND THAT I AM NOT VERY GOOD AND YOU WILL SUFFER A LOT OF GAYNESS AND WEIRD SEX IN THEM, hit me up only if you’re ready for some hardcore porn or smut or sass

Is there a specific word count that you hold yourself to/enjoy writing the most?

I never think of that

How much of your personal life/experience do you include in your fics?

Barely anything other than sass and heels and my own stupidity

What’s your favorite fic you’ve posted?

I am currently a fan of my short incorrect quotes, it’s my most recent and most read work on ao3.

What fic are you proudest of?

Two Halves of Draco’s broken wand maybe?

What fic has been the hardest for you to write?

WHAT IS WIP IS A WIP BECAUSE IT IS HARD FOR SOME REASON

What is your most self-indulgent posted story?

Everyone would want a friend like you

What’s your most self-indulgent wip?

all of them :>

What is your favorite world that you’ve created for a fic?

I honestly have no clue!

Who’s your favorite character you’ve written?

From a fic? I enjoy writing young Narcissa, but frankly speaking I loved writing young Lucius and adult Draco.

What’s your favorite title that you’ve come up with?

I hate titling! Next question!

Is there a trope or idea that you’d really like to write but haven’t yet?

Next question!

What is your favorite genre to write?

Genre… as in dialogue-based fantasy weirdness?

What genre/trope do you tend to write the most?

PORN

If you could only write one type of AU for the rest of your life, what would it be?

one type as in the one where guys that canonically don’t fuck all of the sudden do?

Is there a trope that you’ve written before but are now sick of?

naaah

Who is your favorite character to write for? Has this changed since you’ve started writing for that fandom?

my most favourite of all times character is Sam Vimes but I don’t want to write ff about him really that much

What fic of yours would you say is the best introduction to you as a writer?

oh geez if you really need to think of me as a writer, please don’t read my fanfics EVER, I am writing them for fun and for fun only

How would you describe your writing style?

Funny, weird and sometimes even full of meaningful connections between the characters

Does what you like to write differ from what you like to read?

I try to be as good as my favourite writers!

What’s the average word count of your fics?

as me if I care about the numbers again and I will start telling random things

What is the most-used tag on your ao3?

maybe… blow jobs? High heels?

What’s the fandom/pairing distribution of your posted fics?

Harry/Draco!

Have you noticed any patterns in your fics? Words/expressions that appear a lot, themes, common settings, etc?

well yeah, blowjobs, denial, high heels, netorare, crossdressing, getting convinced, girls knowing and getting what they want… stuff like that

Are there any fics that you would change or rewrite if given the chance?

If I had, they’d be done already

How conscious are you about including symbolism or foreshadowing in your fics?

I have no idea. Next!

Do you have a favorite piece of figurative language you’ve written?

No idea. Next!

Have you participated in any fic events/writing challenges? If yes, what were they and did you enjoy them?

not yet! I plan on getting at drarry in january 2025!

Arethere any fics that influenced you to write the way you do?

The only fics that ever influenced me to write anyhow were Guarding Dark and some other fic about Sphene/Zeiat from but it was about writing more, not how

What are your favorite fics at the moment?

previously mentioned Guarding Dark, about death of Sam Vimes and dwarvish mine sign that happened afterwards. A very good fic, really a small treasure.

Are you subscribed to any writers on AO3?

no… I am a terrible subscription reader, I never have time and I always postpone to the point I hate myself

Do you spend more time reading or writing?

lately writing, but it’s a wave

What’s your favorite writing compliment you’ve gotten?

that someone read my book/story/fic and loved it or that it resonated with them somehow

What do you tend to get complimented on the most about your writing?

that it is funny I guess

Do you have a fic you wish got a bit more love?

yeah all the shorties that got little to no hearts on tumblr, it’s always that longer one that someone didn’t read whole I presume… if it’s long I had an idea! Not always a good one, but long idea anyway

Is there a particular fic that readers gravitated towards that you didn’t expect?

yeah my collection of those shortest fics is currently my most read anything on ao3 like wtf

How do you deal with writing pressure, whether internal or external?

there is no external pressure but internally I am in a constant state of chaos so I really have no idea what I’m doing. Sometimes I feel pressure, sometimes I don’t.

Why do you enjoy writing fanfiction?

are you kidding me? It makes me happy, it makes other people happy and it’s an act of creation so naturally I enjoy that. Also that bitch jkr did nothing to make them more interesting so I had to make a stand for them

What motivates you during the writing process?

a thought that “this will be fun”

Do you have any writing advice you want to share?

just write anytime you feel like writing, if you don’t have an idea for a name or some other detail, simply put [name] or [detail] and continue and it will clarify later if the character is Clark Bones, an architect who likes tomatoes or a Roan Desmond Ruttington, a gardener who killed his mother’s lover when he was twelve and noone ever found out; never let yourself stumble on some minor details and change major things AFTER you write an entire chapters or bigger parts, really, you will thank me later. Also if you write sex, please please please remember that fucking is a machine-like activity and courting and talking about it must be witty, with a good taste and if not that, at least dont be gross and remember that there is nothing less fun than gross AND boring sex scenes.

Thank you, Kiz!

Fanfiction Writing Asks

Do you daydream a lot before you write, or go for it as soon as the ideas strike?

Where do you get your fic ideas?

Do you share your fic ideas, or do you keep them to yourself?

How do you choose which fics to write?

How many wips do you have?  What fandoms/pairings are they for?

What’s the last line you wrote?

Post a snippet from a wip.

Post an out-of-context spoiler from a wip.

Does this word [chosen by asker] appear in your current wip?

Do you work on multiple wips or stick to one fic at a time?

Do you write scenes in order, or do you jump around?

Do you outline your fics?  If yes, how detailed are your outlines?  How far do you stray from them?

Do you listen to music while you write?  If yes, what have you been listening to recently?

What is your favorite location and position to write in?

What’s your favorite time to write?

Do you write by hand, on your phone, or on your laptop?

Do you have a writing routine?

Do you enjoy research?  Which fic of yours required the most research?

Do you enjoy creating OCs or do you prefer to stick solely to canon characters?

Do you prefer writing AUs or canon fics?

Do you prefer writing chaptered fics or one-shots?

Do you title your fics before, during, or after the writing process?  How do you come up with titles?

Is writing the beginning, middle, or end of the story easiest? Hardest?

How do you choose whose POV to write in?

What’s your favorite part of the writing process (worldbuilding, brainstorming/outlining, writing, editing, etc)?

What’s your least favorite part of the writing process?

What area of writing do you feel strongest in?

What area of writing do you want to improve in?

What’s something about your writing that you’re proud of?

How much do you edit your fics?  Do you edit as you write or wait until you finish the first draft?

Do you use a beta reader/editor?

Do you take fic requests?  Why or why not?

Is there a specific word count that you hold yourself to/enjoy writing the most?

How much of your personal life/experience do you include in your fics?

What’s your favorite fic you’ve posted?

What fic are you proudest of?

What fic has been the hardest for you to write?

What is your most self-indulgent posted story?

What’s your most self-indulgent wip?

What is your favorite world that you’ve created for a fic?

Who’s your favorite character you’ve written?

What’s your favorite title that you’ve come up with?

Is there a trope or idea that you’d really like to write but haven’t yet?

What is your favorite genre to write?

What genre/trope do you tend to write the most?

If you could only write one type of AU for the rest of your life, what would it be?

Is there a trope that you’ve written before but are now sick of?

Who is your favorite character to write for?  Has this changed since you’ve started writing for that fandom?

What fic of yours would you say is the best introduction to you as a writer?

How would you describe your writing style?

Does what you like to write differ from what you like to read?

What’s the average word count of your fics?

What is the most-used tag on your ao3?

What’s the fandom/pairing distribution of your posted fics?

Have you noticed any patterns in your fics?  Words/expressions that appear a lot, themes, common settings, etc?

Are there any fics that you would change or rewrite if given the chance?

How conscious are you about including symbolism or foreshadowing in your fics?

Do you have a favorite piece of figurative language you’ve written?

Have you participated in any fic events/writing challenges?  If yes, what were they and did you enjoy them?

In [insert fic], what inspired the idea for the plot?

In [insert fic], what’s your favorite scene that you wrote?

In [insert fic], is there a deleted scene/idea you wish you could have included?  Why did it get cut?

What was the hardest part of writing [insert fic]?

If you rewrote [insert fic] now, would you change anything?

If you wrote a sequel to [insert fic], what would happen in it?

What’s a fun fact about [insert fic]?

If a fic was titled [insert made up title], what would this story be about/how would you write it?

Are there any fics that influenced you to write the way you do?

What are your favorite fics at the moment?

Are you subscribed to any writers on AO3?

Do you spend more time reading or writing?

What’s your favorite writing compliment you’ve gotten?

What do you tend to get complimented on the most about your writing?

Do you have a fic you wish got a bit more love?

Is there a particular fic that readers gravitated towards that you didn’t expect?

How do you deal with writing pressure, whether internal or external?

Why do you enjoy writing fanfiction?

What motivates you during the writing process?

Do you have any writing advice you want to share?

Free space - asker can come up with any writing or fic-related question they want!

[meazalykov]

the neighbor

kika nazareth x reader

summary: you wanted a new friend in a new city

your heart pounds a little as you balance the plate of banana loaf and protein cookies in one hand, pausing at your neighbor’s door. 

the idea of making a new friend in this massive city feels like exactly the kind of thing that could make it feel like home, but as soon as the door opens, you almost forget what you’re here for.  

standing in front of you is one of the most attractive women you’ve ever seen, her dark eyes curious, framed by waves of her dark hair. she’s dressed casually, but there’s something so effortlessly confident about her that it leaves you momentarily speechless. 

she blinks, looking from you to the plate in your hands.

“um, sorry– hi!” you finally manage, a little flustered but quickly recovering. 

“i just moved in next door, and i thought i’d bring over a little welcome gift.”

her face lights up with a genuine smile, and the warmth in her expression melts away any nerves you might have had. 

“oh my goodness, that’s so nice of you! please, come in.”

you step inside, glancing around. the space is cozy and bright, with a few unpacked boxes pushed to the side, indicating she’s just settling in too. 

there’s a faint, comforting scent of vanilla and lavender in the air, and the place already feels warm, even if she hasn’t completely unpacked yet. she sets the plate on the counter and gestures toward a stool at the kitchen island.

“have a seat! i’ll get us something to drink,” she says, moving toward the fridge with a natural ease.

you sit, watching as she pours a couple of glasses of what looks like strawberry lemonade. as she hands you a glass, you take it with a grateful smile. 

“thanks. i’m y/n, by the way.”

“kika,” she replies, her smile widening. 

“so, y/n, what brings you to barcelona?”

you’re about to take a sip but pause, trying to put it into words. 

“honestly? i’ve always had this– um– love? for the city. i visited a few years ago, and it just… clicked. i knew i wanted to live here someday. i finished university a year early, so i figured, why not now?”

she nods, looking impressed. 

“that’s brave. i think a lot of people have dreams about starting fresh somewhere, but actually making it happen? that’s a whole different level. what do you do?”

“i’m a nurse. i just got a position at a clinic nearby,” you explain, and kika’s eyes widen slightly.

“a nurse? that’s amazing!” she exclaims, and you feel your cheeks warm at her enthusiasm.

you laugh, shrugging modestly. 

“it’s rewarding but intense. i’ve seen it all, from broken bones to kids swallowing the craziest things like handfuls of sand or batteries.”

she grins, shaking her head. 

“that’s the coolest thing, though. not everyone can handle that kind of job.”

“thanks,” you say, surprised by how easily you can talk to her. 

“what about you? what do you do?”

there’s a little sparkle in her eyes as she shrugs, looking like she’s about to downplay it. 

“i play football.”

“seriously?” your eyes light up. 

“that’s amazing!”

kika chuckles, clearly not used to people reacting this way. 

“yep. i just joined the club here.”

“oh, so you’re with a local team?” you ask, not fully understanding.

she leans forward, her voice dropping slightly as she smiles. 

“barcelona. i play for fc barcelona.”

you blink, the words not quite sinking in right away. 

“wait. are you serious?”

“dead serious,” she replies, laughing softly at your reaction. she pulls out her phone and flips through some pictures before holding one up, showing herself in a barcelona training kit at what looks like her first training session.

“that’s… that’s incredible,” you say, genuinely in awe.

“i mean, i’m not the biggest soccer fan, but i know enough to understand how huge that is.”

she chuckles, looking almost shy. “not a big football fan? i need to take you to a game someday– but yeah it’s a big deal, i guess,” she shrugs. 

“i think being a nurse might actually be cooler.”

“absolutely not,” you say, laughing. 

“you’re living the dream for so many people. besides, i only moved here a week ago, and you already sound more established than i am.”

she shrugs, clearly a little bashful but appreciative of your compliments. 

“still, you’re doing something meaningful every day. you know, helping people.”

“i guess we both are, in a way,” you say, realizing you feel surprisingly comfortable around her. it’s only been a few minutes, yet you feel like you could stay here chatting with her all day.

you look around her apartment, noticing the soccer cleats on a shoe rack near the open closet door. they’re neatly placed next to a few pairs of sneakers, and you can’t help but think how fitting it is. 

almost every girl in europe played football if they weren’t buried in university work, you figured, so it hadn’t been a huge surprise to hear she played. still, learning she’s actually a professional? that’s something else.

“do you live alone here?” kika asks, breaking the silence.

you nod. 

“yeah, just me. it’s a bit quiet sometimes, but being in a big city… i don’t know. it just felt right.”

she leans forward, her eyes softening. 

“barcelona can be a little intimidating at first, but i think you’re going to love it here. especially if we can keep having hangouts like this.”

“same here,” you say, feeling a warm buzz of excitement. 

“i was kind of hoping i’d find someone cool in the building.”

she laughs, the sound filling the space with a kind of brightness. 

“well, looks like you got lucky then,” she teases, nudging your arm lightly.

before you know it, your phone buzzes with an alarm, snapping you out of the moment. it’s your reminder to start getting ready for the gym, and you glance down with a sigh, realizing you have to go.

“i’d better head out,” you say, standing up reluctantly.

kika follows you to the door, and just as you’re about to leave, she surprises you with a warm hug. it catches you off guard, but you hug her back, feeling a little spark in the embrace.

as you pull back, she looks at you with a hopeful smile. 

“hey, would you maybe want to grab lunch together? say, wednesday?”

“wednesday sounds perfect,” you say, feeling that warm buzz in your chest again. 

“and, you know, if you ever need anything, just knock on my door.”

“you got it,” she says, grinning. “see you wednesday.”

you give her arm a light squeeze, a soft “see you,” before stepping out into the hallway. 

masterlist

[achilles-rage]

good luck charm: bonus drabble

come and get your love

summary: after a hard day, you do something to cheer evan up.

word count: 1.6k

series masterlist

a/n: this might be stupid, but it was fun to write and i think it’s cute so sue me!! sigh, i miss good luck charm evan, and i'm sorry this took so long, i just couldn't think of any scenarios i really wanted to tell. if you have any drabble ideas for this series, i'm happy to hear them! enjoy<33

warnings: none, no use of y/n, fem!reader, plus size!reader, race inclusive!reader

You’re in the bedroom putting away some laundry when you hear the front door slam, and you jump in surprise, a frown making its way onto your face immediately. You know exactly what that door slam means; Evan has had a bad day. 

“Hi, baby.” you say, peeking your head over the railing and looking at him in the kitchen getting some water. You offer him a small smile when he looks up at you, and although he gives you a smile back, you can tell it’s fake even from up in the loft. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and you sigh sadly.

When you make it to the bottom of the stairs and walk towards him standing near the fridge, you wrap your arms around his neck and raise up onto your toes to give him a kiss. You feel the way he melts into your embrace, and it’s almost as if you can feel all of the stress radiating off of his body; it’s practically suffocating you, and you can’t even imagine how he feels.

“Rough day?” you ask, and he nods once, jaw clenched.

He’s been working extremely hard the past few weeks at the LAFD training academy, and while he comes home most days exhausted but content, there’s some days where he can get overwhelmed.

“You have no idea.” he tells you, his hands finding their way to your hips. You give him a sad smile, then pull him down for another kiss, hoping to get him to relax a little bit more.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He huffs at your question, thinking for a moment. He knows it would be better to get it out of his system, but he doesn’t want to dump it all on you. He knows how hard you’ve been working at your new job, and he doesn’t want you worrying about him as well.

“Hey, we don’t keep stuff in, that’s not what we do. You told me that.” you urge him softly when he doesn’t reply right away. He sighs, a smile fighting its way onto his face at your reminder. He nods after a moment, looking into your eyes and rubbing his thumb across your cheek.

“The physical stuff is fine, I’m passing everything easily. Just- The instructors say stuff; try to get into your head. It just got to me today.” he explains with a frown. You nod your head as he speaks, keeping your gaze locked with his. When he’s finished you tilt your head to the side, waiting for him to continue, but when he doesn’t, you raise your brows.

“Do you want to tell me what they said today that got you so worked up?” you urge. You don’t necessarily want to push him, but you know that he needs to talk it out, so you keep your eyes on him, as if pleading with him to tell you.

“We were doing this drill today, and there were a bunch of dummies. They gave them all back stories to make them feel real. I don’t know, I guess I just got caught up in it and in my mind they were real people, because they will be one day. I tried to go back into the building even when some of the other guys let the fire get out of hand because there were still a few dummies left in the building, and some guys had to hold me back.” he says in one big breath, and you follow along with furrowed brows, hoping he’ll continue.

“Well, they know I have you, and I guess they picked up on the fact that I was thinking about you the whole time; thinking about you in there. They were just saying stuff about me not being able to save you because of my mistakes, and about you having to plan my funeral because I got reckless on the job and I got myself killed.” he continues after a moment. He chews on the inside of his cheek as he waits for you to reply, and your eyes soften at his admission. 

You shake your head, bringing his head down to rest your foreheads against each other with your hand on the back of his neck. You keep him there for a moment in silence, trying to gather your thoughts before you reply.

��My love, your heart is what will make you a good firefighter. You care so much about people. And I have no doubt that you’d be able to save me if you had to, because you’re smart, and capable, and you love so deeply. And I’m not gonna lie, the thought of you getting hurt on the job has crossed my mind, but I know that you’re gonna fight to come home everyday, aren’t you?” He nods immediately, brows furrowing.

“Of course, I will. You know I will.” he replies, and you smile.

“Then I’m not too worried. Worry about actually finishing your training first, and then we’ll talk about you dying on the job, okay? Because I guarantee that when you start at an actual station, you’ll trust your team a lot more than the recruits. You can’t even imagine all the stories my dad has told me about the people he had to train with.” you tell him with a small laugh. You can still see a bit of hesitancy in his eyes as he tells you that you’re right, so you lead him to the couch and sit him down.

“I know exactly what you need.” you tell him when he sits down, then turn and grab your phone off the kitchen counter.

A small, real smile finally makes its way to his face when he sees you scrolling through your phone, knowing exactly what you’re about to do. When one of you has a bad day, the other always does something to make the other smile. He doesn’t even remember when or how this tradition started, but he does know that it always makes him smile regardless of how many times you do it.

His smile widens when he hears the beginning to Redbone’s Come and Get Your Love from the speaker connected to the tv, and you turn from your spot in the kitchen to face him.

You walk over to him as the beat starts, moving your shoulders in time with each step and fighting back a smile, and when the singing starts, you grab the tv remote off the coffee table and begin to lip sync into it.

He watches as you dance to the music with a wide smile, watching the way you move your hips in time with the music, and he can already feel himself start to feel better. He chuckles when you grab one of his hands and duck down to spin under his arm, and when you turn back to face him, you drop his hand and back up a few feet.

When the chorus starts, you continue lip syncing as you raise your hand in a “come here” motion, rolling your body in time with the beat. He gets up off the couch, keeping his eyes locked with yours, then grabs your hips, pulling you against him. 

You both sway to the music with smiles on your face. You can tell that he feels better, and you’re extremely grateful. You know how stressful the job can be, and you only hope you can help him through it as much as you can. 

The song finally ends, and he lifts you up with his hands going to the backs of your thighs, and you giggle as you wrap your legs around his waist.

“You always know what to do, princess.” he says with a grin, and all you can do is lean down to press your lips to his. 

“I know what else I can do to help you feel better.” you murmur against his lips. You feel his grip tightening on the back of your thighs, and he groans, pulling back from your lips to look at you with blown pupils.

“I’m keeping you in bed until tomorrow morning.” he teases, then sets you back down onto the ground. He then grabs your waist and turns you towards the stairs, then pushes you forward gently, but not before giving your ass a firm smack. You yelp at the contact, turning your head to look at him over your shoulder as he speaks.

“Go upstairs, princess. I’ll be right up.” 

“What are you doing?” you ask, but obey and walk towards the stairs.

“I’m ordering takeout, gonna see what I can do before it gets here.” he teases, and you laugh softly, rolling your eyes.

His eyes dart between your ass as you walk up the stairs, and his phone, and when he’s finally placed the order, he races up the stairs two at a time. 

He grins when he sees that you’re already naked, sprawled out on the bed and sitting up on your elbows waiting for him. He groans as he takes off his shirt, then unzips his pants, and then he’s on you in an instant, lips attaching to your neck.

“How could I do this without you, princess?” he whispers against your neck, goosebumps erupting on your skin as his hot breath hits your neck.

“You’d be lost without me.” you tease as you tilt your head back. You feel him grinding against you as he chuckles, and you lower your chin to meet his gaze when he leans back to look at you.

“Damn right, I would.”

notes: likes/comments/reblogs would be much appreciated if you liked this<33

click here for my masterlist!

click here to be added to my taglist!

click here to read my request rules!

taglist: @officiallyalbino @wanniiieeee @dreams-encapsulated-in-glamour @buckandeddiesverison @catkight @tatyhend @emilysuperswag @kulteule @korosevren @nyx3028 @sporadicmakerwerewolf @sherlocksbaby2323 @essienoe @p14th0mps0n @celestixldarling @brooke0297 @zelfanswhenshecan @avengersgirllorianna @bingbongsupremacy @nishinoyahhh @alyssanicole01 @outof-spite @supernatural-bangtanboys @x0xchristine @pear-1206 @swanshells @tpwkstiles @lulubelle14 @cannibalhellhound @odetolocksmiths @rafecameronsloverrrrr @charlie-winchester94 @hollandxxmix @evysian @starbyun92939798 @maxinish @uhmidkmuch @theking-mustdie @daeswash @911varietyposts @superlock-in-the-tardis @lilsquatch7898 @hufflepuff-spidey @starboygf @wnbweasley @damndirtylitch @eva-tts5 @alexxavicry @sammiejane22 @boybandbaby (if you interacted with my taglist post and are not on this list, make sure your blog is visible in searches or i can’t tag you!)

[seitmai]

She hummed, looking over your recent arrangement with a proud gaze. “I can understand that. It’s been a bit since you’ve been in a relationship,” she said, giving your arm a small squeeze. “But don’t be too apprehensive, dear. It’s okay to let someone in.” You bit your tongue when you wanted to blurt out that Bucky didn’t just let himself in. He tore through your life and made a home for himself in the ashes. But Mrs. Crandle meant well and didn’t know what was going on.

Mrs. Cradle probably means well but let's calm down a bit 🥴

“I can work through it. There are still a few orders to finish,” you protested, which was a reasonable excuse. “I’m not making you work through lunch.” She looked offended by the very idea. And of course, she wouldn’t give you an out. Like most of your small circle of friends and loved ones, they wanted you to find a partner. “And don’t worry about the orders, dear. You two lovebirds go and take as long as you want.”

She truly is too nice 😬

Much like walking into the club, you felt out of place as you walked through the cafe. Not because it wasn’t your scene, but because of the special sort of treatment. You didn’t want it. Though the ambience of the fairy lights and privacy would’ve been sweet and romantic otherwise.

That's so eerie 🫣

Bucky’s hand lingered until she was out of sight. “I don’t appreciate that she didn’t look your way,” he said, shrugging his jacket off before he took a seat. You could see the tension in his shoulders, his gloved left hand flexing slightly. “It’s clear that we’re here together on a lunch date.” “No, it’s not. It’s disrespectful. I’m here with you. I’m not interested in her or anyone else.” His eyes were as cold as ice when he pushed the menu away, making you shiver. “I’m not like my dad.” “I know I’m the only one you see,” you said, reaching over to touch his hand. He took it the second it was within reach. You didn’t think he’d do anything to hurt or damage the hostess in any way over something harmless in your eyes, but maybe offering a bit of assurance would distract him. “I don’t know your dad, but I can sense that you aren’t him.”

Ohhh this is something that truly gets his gears turning

He observed you, almost in morbid curiosity as you waited for him to respond. You knew what the answer was going to be, but you wanted to believe your paranoia was getting to you. “First, your apartment isn’t your home. The penthouse is going to be our home together and maybe that’ll finally sink in once you’re living there,” he answered, your eyes wide. “And second, of course I have bugs around your place. Visual, audio, you name it. I’m not exactly trying to hide that I’m watching you as much as possible.”

The way he says it so nonchalantly is truly mind boggling 🥴

“You’re not exactly trying to hide it? You hid it by not telling me!” You accused him, the gaslighting bastard. “How could you do that?” He shrugged, which only upset you more. “Mentioning the collar was a pretty big hint. Do you really think I’d bring it up if I didn’t want you to know I was watching or listening in?” “You…” You let out a breath and swallowed back tears. He really did want you to know. “You want me to feel scared, don't you, like when you broke in. Because when you scare me or make me feel uneasy, you can control me more and get me to do what you want. You’re sick.”

What she said ☝🏻

You swallowed thickly. He was never going to budge. “You sit there and act like you’re a decent guy because you haven’t forced yourself on me and you won’t raise a hand to me, but you’re still a monster,” you said, your gaze vulnerable and open. He had to see how upset you were, how he caused you to feel. His expression didn’t change, except for his eyes. They looked as sad as you felt. “Maybe I am,” he whispered.

This is heavy...

“I…” You went silent when he slid a hand up your torso and rested it on your chest. Could you play along to calm him down? “I guess we can go shopping. Nothing too fancy, right?” “Whatever makes you happy. I just want my girl to be happy.” He groaned when you willingly ran your fingers through his hair. “And you’ll love me like I love you. I know you will.”

This just makes my skin crawl 🥴

Hold You Tight: Part 11

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 10 | Series Masterlist | Part 12

Chapter Summary: Bucky reveals a small piece of his past and also confirms one of your suspicions.

Chapter Word Count: Over 3.6k

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, tension, unease, possessiveness, inner turmoil, gaslighting, manipulation, mention of stalking, slight feels, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight and hope you enjoy! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo . ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You busied yourself with orders after Clark left, but it didn’t stop you from looking toward the door every few minutes. You weren’t sure if you were expecting him to return or if you were anticipating Bucky arriving. Why were you allowing him to consume your thoughts again? You needed to concentrate on your job, the thing you loved and helped pay your bills.

Mrs. Crandle gave you a smile when you checked the time, too. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were excited to see this young man who thinks he’s your boyfriend,” she commented.

“I don’t know if excited is the word I’d use,” you said, trying to smile through your nerves. “Apprehensive, maybe?”

She hummed, looking over your recent arrangement with a proud gaze. “I can understand that. It’s been a bit since you’ve been in a relationship,” she said, giving your arm a small squeeze. “But don’t be too apprehensive, dear. It’s okay to let someone in.”

You bit your tongue when you wanted to blurt out that Bucky didn’t just let himself in. He tore through your life and made a home for himself in the ashes. But Mrs. Crandle meant well and didn’t know what was going on. “Well, he offered to be my date to Addison’s wedding and she was very happy to hear that.”

“Oh, I’ll bet she’s thrilled for you,” she said. Addison stopped by the shop a few times and your boss adored her and the friendship you two had. “And if I’m not mistaken, that’s your date walking in,” she smiled, nodding toward the door.

Your stomach dropped when Bucky entered the shop with a tender smile on his face. “Hi, doll,” he said, heading right to you and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I hope I’m not too early to take you to lunch, but I don’t mind waiting if you’re busy.”

“Oh, it’s not too early at all,” Mrs. Crandle said before you could protest. “It’s nice to see such a fine young man take one of my best workers to lunch.”

Bucky put his right hand to his chest. “A fine young man? You flatter me, Mrs. Crandle. It is Mrs. Crandle, right?” He held the same hand out after she nodded. Of course, he knew her name. You almost smacked his arm away, not wanting the man who disrupted your life to touch your boss. “Everyone calls me Bucky. It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s very nice to meet you, too,” she said, giving you a wink. One smile from the man and she was under his spell. “I hear the two of you may be attending Addison’s wedding together.”

You gave her a pointed look when Bucky smiled your way, wishing she hadn’t brought it up. She either ignored your stare or didn’t notice. “That’s the plan. I know the day will be all about Addison and Brady, as it should be, but my eyes will be on my girl,” Bucky smiled, giving the shop an appreciative look as your stomach flipped. “And it’s easy to see why she loves working here. You have a beautiful place.”

“Thank you. It really is a group effort to keep this place alive,” she said, turning her attention to you. “Well, what are you waiting for? Get your bag and go enjoy your lunch.”

“I can work through it. There are still a few orders to finish,” you protested, which was a reasonable excuse.

“I’m not making you work through lunch.” She looked offended by the very idea. And of course, she wouldn’t give you an out. Like most of your small circle of friends and loved ones, they wanted you to find a partner. “And don’t worry about the orders, dear. You two lovebirds go and take as long as you want.”

Lovebirds?

“I’ll try not to keep her too long,” Bucky said as you went to get your purse. “So, how long have you owned your shop?”

You blocked out the chatter between them, taking a breath to steady yourself. How many times had you imagined a boyfriend surprising you at work just because they wanted to take you to lunch? Or even just because they wanted to see you? You got your wish, didn’t you?

“I’ll be back soon,” you smiled as Bucky wrapped an arm around your lower back, crowding your space like always. Mrs. Crandle looked over the moon and you made sure the smile stayed on your face until Bucky led you out of the shop. “Sucking up to my boss? Really?”

Bucky chuckled. “I wasn’t sucking up. Just making conversation,” he said. The small conversation won her over. “And didn't you try to get Ray on your side this morning?”

He had a point, but you ignored it. “Where are we eating?” You asked, though you didn’t have much of an appetite.

“I got us a table at a cafe close by,” he said, tightening his arm around you. “I figured you wouldn’t want to go far in case you had to get back to work.”

“That’s thoughtful,” you said, though it was actually nice that he didn’t want you to venture far.

“I’m a thoughtful guy,” he teased. Making sure it was safe to go, he helped you cross the street. Ray stayed in the car, but you sensed him watching and wondered if he’d join you. “And I got us a private table on the back patio. No one should bother us.”

“They do private tables at this cafe?” You asked as he held the door open with a smirk. He probably threw a bit of money their way to make it happen and you almost wished there would be others around so you’d feel a bit more comfortable.

“Welcome, Mr. Barnes,” a woman smiled, not bothering to look your way as she grabbed a couple of menus. “We have your table set up if you’ll follow me,” she said, gesturing for you to head to the back.

Much like walking into the club, you felt out of place as you walked through the cafe. Not because it wasn’t your scene, but because of the special sort of treatment. You didn’t want it. Though the ambience of the fairy lights and privacy would’ve been sweet and romantic otherwise.

“The server should be here in a moment, but please let me know if you need anything,” the hostess smiled, her gaze lingering on Bucky as he pulled out your chair. “Anything at all, Mr. Barnes.”

You felt a bit small as you sat down and eyed the hostess. It was her job to be friendly, but she hadn’t exactly acknowledged you and made it obvious that she specifically wanted Bucky’s attention. You wouldn’t say you were jealous and part of you understood why she’d want him to look her way. Still, wouldn’t the general assumption be that you two were a couple?

We are not a couple.

You looked up at Bucky when he rested a hand on your shoulder, but there was nothing flirtatious or warm about the smile on his face. “If my girl or I need anything, we’ll say so,” he said in a cool and courteous tone.

“Of course.” The hostess faltered slightly as she set the menus down, but recovered quickly. “Enjoy,” she added, scurrying off.

Bucky’s hand lingered until she was out of sight. “I don’t appreciate that she didn’t look your way,” he said, shrugging his jacket off before he took a seat. You could see the tension in his shoulders, his gloved left hand flexing slightly. “It’s clear that we’re here together on a lunch date.”

Your eyes flickered to him as he looked over the menu, his jaw clenched. The hostess giving him attention bothered him much more than it bothered you. “It’s okay, Bucky,” you said.

“No, it’s not. It’s disrespectful. I’m here with you. I’m not interested in her or anyone else.” His eyes were as cold as ice when he pushed the menu away, making you shiver. “I’m not like my dad.”

“I know I’m the only one you see,” you said, reaching over to touch his hand. He took it the second it was within reach. You didn’t think he’d do anything to hurt or damage the hostess in any way over something harmless in your eyes, but maybe offering a bit of assurance would distract him. “I don’t know your dad, but I can sense that you aren’t him.”

At least, he wasn’t entirely like him. His ruthlessness came from something or someone. His dad may fit the bill.

“He cheated on my mom when she was nothing but good to him. She was good to everyone and he threw it back in her face,” he sneered. You could practically taste the bitterness from his words and it broke your heart. It was no wonder he wanted you to believe so badly that he’d be faithful to you. “And I’m glad that piece of shit will never lay eyes on you or anyone else.”

“I’m so sorry,” you said, aching for the pain his mom likely experienced and him by extension. Regardless of the man he was, he held his mom in high regard and she didn’t deserve an unfaithful partner. “I know that doesn’t change anything, but I am.”

Bucky’s gaze softened considerably. “I know you are and I appreciate that more than you know.” He rubbed a thumb over your skin, his shoulders starting to relax. “The cheating wasn’t even the worst of it,” he muttered before the server walked in with a pitcher of water.

What else did his dad do?

“Hi. I’ll be taking care of you today,” the server smiled, sweeping a look over both of you as he poured each of you a glass. Bucky barely smiled back. He didn���t want people ignoring you, but he didn’t want gazes lingering for too long either. “Have you had a chance to look over the menu or would you like something else to drink?”

“I’m fine with water and I think we’re ready,” you said, pointing out one of the entrees. You didn’t want to draw out lunch longer than it had to be. “Thank you.”

“I’ll have the same. And take your time,” Bucky said, handing the menus back. His smile didn’t brighten again until the server left. “Talking about my dad is dampening the mood. How’s work going today?”

The subject change was jarring, but you imagined he didn’t want to dwell on the unpleasant topic. It also wasn’t a good time to ask about his mom and the flowers. “Work is fine.”

“Just fine?”

You debated if you should say anything about Clark. You didn’t want him on Bucky’s radar, but what if Bucky somehow found out and you didn’t say anything? Telling him was the better option. “Well, there’s a regular customer who stopped in. He’s going through a break-up and actually tried to give me a couple of roses since I was kind to him, but I didn’t take them,” you explained, trying not to make a big deal of it.

The glint in Bucky’s eyes made you nervous, but you knew any malice wasn't aimed your way. “He tried to give you roses and you didn’t take them?” He asked evenly.

“No, I didn’t. I told him to give them to someone else as I’m very much not interested in getting flowers. Except maybe from you,” you assured him, his lips twitching up. That was a good sign. “What about you? How’s work?” You added, hoping to shift the topic back to him.

A moment of silence passed before he nodded. “If he persists or bothers you, let me know first thing and I’ll take care of it,” he said. You had a feeling the topic of Clark was far from done and you didn’t want to know how he’d take care of it. “I do have to go to the club late tonight, but I was thinking we could go shopping after your shift.”

“Shopping?” You raised an eyebrow. “Shopping for what?”

“I did offer to get you a new outfit for your girls day,” he said, rubbing circles on your hand. “And a collar.”

The nagging feeling in the back of your mind went off. That was the second time he brought that up. One would think he was doing it on purpose. “You know, I mentioned you getting me a collar, but that was something I said when I was alone this morning. Along with a couple of other things you've mentioned, it’s too much of a coincidence to me that you’re suggesting it,” you said carefully, sitting up straighter. “Do you have cameras or something in my home? Be honest, please.”

He observed you, almost in morbid curiosity as you waited for him to respond. You knew what the answer was going to be, but you wanted to believe your paranoia was getting to you. “First, your apartment isn’t your home. The penthouse is going to be our home together and maybe that’ll finally sink in once you’re living there,” he answered, your eyes wide. “And second, of course I have bugs around your place. Visual, audio, you name it. I’m not exactly trying to hide that I’m watching you as much as possible.”

You felt sick at the admission, thankful that you hadn’t eaten anything. How much did he see and hear? Did he listen to your talk with Addison? Watch you shower? Sleep? He continued to violate your privacy and had no shame at all in doing so. Enough was enough.

“You’re not exactly trying to hide it? You hid it by not telling me!” You accused him, the gaslighting bastard. “How could you do that?”

He shrugged, which only upset you more. “Mentioning the collar was a pretty big hint. Do you really think I’d bring it up if I didn’t want you to know I was watching or listening in?”

“You…” You let out a breath and swallowed back tears. He really did want you to know. “You want me to feel scared, don't you, like when you broke in. Because when you scare me or make me feel uneasy, you can control me more and get me to do what you want. You’re sick.”

He reached out and gripped your hand again before you could push yourself away from the table. “I thought we established that I’m not trying to control you. How many times do I have to say it?”

“And yet everything you do says otherwise,” you said. It was all a tactic to him. A game. “When will your actions back up your words?”

“I told you this morning my place is safer than yours. The security measures in your building are a joke. Do you realize how easy it was for me to get in and to break into your place? I hardly broke a sweat and that means anyone could get in and get to you. So, yes, there are devices in place so I can make sure you’re safe when I’m not there.” He shook his head at your glare. His reasoning didn’t excuse his actions. “I understand if you’re mad at me, but I did say I won’t give you a choice when it comes to your safety and I won’t apologize for that either.”

You stared at each other, his gaze as firm as his stance. As much as you wanted to throw something, the dishes weren’t yours and you didn’t want to create a mess for the staff to clean up. “You’re really telling yourself you’re watching me for my protection? Who the hell is going to protect me from you, Bucky?” You took a breath when his eyes widened, as if your words hurt him. “No one, with the exception of you, is going to break into my place for any reason. I have nothing of value there, except for the necklace you gave me.”

“You are valuable,” he said, squeezing your hand and resolute in that belief. “How can you not see that?”

“Because I’m just a regular person and there’s nothing wrong with that.” Your voice shook, but you couldn't stop. “With the exception of you, no one will look twice at me, let alone break into my place.”

He shook his head. “You don’t know that.”

“No, I don’t because life is unpredictable and watching me doesn’t guarantee that nothing will happen to me,” you said, narrowing your eyes in thought. “Is this really about protecting me or are you projecting what your dad did to your mom on me? Do you think I won’t be faithful to you in this ‘relationship’ you think we have, so you have to watch me at all times to prove I’m yours?”

Bucky made a sound like you hit him and asking was a bit of a low blow, but it was a possibility. “Kotyonok, you’re one of the most loyal and faithful people I know. You’d never do anything to make me question that.”

“You trust me?” You asked softly. He nodded without hesitation. “Then help me trust you. Get the devices out of my place for starters since you had no right to put them there to begin with. Please, get rid of them.”

You’d never feel completely safe or comfortable there again, you hadn't since he broke in, but he had to give you that.

“I'll get rid of them,” he said after a moment.

That felt too easy, but you felt relief all the same. “Thank you. That's-”

“After you move into the penthouse because I'm not going to give a shit about the people who move into your apartment after you,” he clarified.

You swallowed thickly. He was never going to budge. “You sit there and act like you’re a decent guy because you haven’t forced yourself on me and you won’t raise a hand to me, but you’re still a monster,” you said, your gaze vulnerable and open. He had to see how upset you were, how he caused you to feel.

His expression didn’t change, except for his eyes. They looked as sad as you felt. “Maybe I am,” he whispered.

The server chose the perfect time to show up with your meals. “Here we are!” he announced, setting the food down and taking no notice of the heavy tension between you and Bucky. “Enjoy.”

Neither of you spoke as you ate, but he watched you expectantly. He wasn’t going to change his mind about the bugs in your apartment or anything else and he didn’t deserve your fire. So you had nothing to say. Nothing at all. You were exactly what he called you: a doll.

“Don’t you dare,” he finally spoke when you took money out of your wallet and set it on the table. “This is a date and I’m paying.”

“This isn’t a date, Bucky, no matter how much you want it to be,” you said quietly, his eyes flashing. “And I need to go back to work.”

You gasped when he bent the fork he held in his left hand, your heart pounding in fear as you looked around. The server hadn’t been back to check on you and the two of you were all alone. What was he going to do? “What? You think I’m going to hurt you after I promised I wouldn’t?” He asked, setting the destroyed utensil down. “Because I’m a monster, right?”

“I didn’t…” You couldn’t say you didn’t mean it because you did, but deep down it wasn’t your intention to make him angry. You should’ve known better, but your emotions were getting the better of you when you had to play it smart.

“A monster who hurts people?” He asked in a deep voice you didn’t recognize. “Kills people?”

You gripped the sides of your chair, fear creeping in more. “Bucky, what are you talking about?” You whispered. Why was he saying that?

He blinked and shook his head. “Why won’t you just let me love you?” He asked, suddenly getting up to round the table. He pulled your chair out before you could get up and dropped to his knees, uncaring of ruining his pants. “All I want is you,” he whispered, resting his head in your lap.

Your body went taut when his hands moved up your thighs. Did he remember or care that you were at a cafe? “I-I know you want me.”

“I know the bugs in your place are upsetting and I know I’m being stubborn about it, so let me make it up to you a little bit, please?” He asked, lifting his head to gaze at you. “Let me take you shopping tonight. Let me spoil you.”

“I…” You went silent when he slid a hand up your torso and rested it on your chest. Could you play along to calm him down? “I guess we can go shopping. Nothing too fancy, right?”

“Whatever makes you happy. I just want my girl to be happy.” He groaned when you willingly ran your fingers through his hair. “And you’ll love me like I love you. I know you will.”

You waved off the server when he tried to check on you and gave Bucky a shaky smile. You’d go shopping with him, keep him happy, and pray he wouldn’t continue to suffocate you with his version of love. It was too late though. The very oxygen you breathed now was what he fed into your lungs. And the monster that lurked beneath the surface, the one who needed you, was eventually going to break through and get what he wanted.

Maybe he’d get a taste tonight.

So, I wanted a bit of action in this part, but the muse refused. I swear the conversations are happening for a reason and we may see some action during the shopping trip. What are we going to do knowing your place really is bugged? And is he going to look into Clark more? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[arnivold]

Having played Emmrich's romance from start to finish I can say it does a shockingly good job of realistically portraying a romance with a significant age gap, speaking from experience as someone who once dated a guy in his fifties while I was in my twenties

Spoilers under the cut

So when you first start flirting with Emmrich, he doesn't assume you're being serious or doesn't even register it as flirting. Then he realizes what's going on and plays along with it. Then he starts flirting back, and uh oh we both acknowledged there's chemistry and now we have to figure out what we're gonna do with it.

Then you start dating. Or at least you're sorta dating. And your friends notice what's going on and immediately they voice their concerns. Are you sure this is a good idea? Happy for you but do you think maybe you're going a little too fast? Does the older person have bad intentions here? These are all questions the companions and even Hezenkoss ask in banter when you start the romance with Emmrich

And yeah when you first start dating someone new these questions don't seem to matter cause you're in love. You're charmed by Emmrich's gentlemanly ways, Emmrich likes the feeling of having a young person show interest in him because it makes him feel younger so he doesn't have to grapple with his mortality

But then as shit gets more and more serious and you near the end of Act 2, Emmrich wants to have a genuine discussion with you about the relationship. He's concerned that maybe this isn't such a good idea after all, because even though you both have the best of intentions, eventually you will have to deal with losing him and it will be decades before you have to worry about your own death.

And you have to ask yourself, is this serious or not? How are we gonna introduce each other to our families? Are you prepared to care for a sick/elderly spouse in your 40s and 50s? If you want to have children, are you prepared to handle having a partner who is already a generation apart from you and old enough to be your children's grandparent? How will it look when an older person in a teaching position is dating someone the same age as their students?

And for a lot of people these are serious obstacles to having a serious long term relationship! And discussions like that often do end in a fight like it does in Emmrich's romance! It happened to me in my relationship with an older man, too! It didn't work for me in my specific case but some people are able to work that stuff out, and in the case of Rook and Emmrich, they eventually do. But those are important discussions to have when you enter that kind of relationship

Idk man, the whole time I was romancing him I kept hearing the same comments my friends and family made about my relationship, the same arguments and discussions we had about the logistics of that kind of relationship, etc. etc. I figured they were just gonna go the route of indulgent wish fulfilment, and I was left slack-jawed when the game actually delves into the realities of dating in age gaps that large

[rekino2114]

Messing with the chainsaw man girls hair

This was requested by @shikitohnoskk

The request:Hey, is it okay for me to request it again? I've noticed that most of the Chainsaw Man girls (Makima, Asa, Kobeni, and Quanxi) wear a ponytail.

Headcanon: Have S/O see their hair down and compliment it, and perhaps personally tie their hair into a ponytail.

Note: for the other girls who haven't ponytailed or short hair like Power, Himeno, and Fami (does Yoru count since she is in Asa's body)?. What are your ideas on them?

A/n:I couldn't come up with a good title that fit all the girls' scenarios, so you get that. Also, sorry if I posted this later than usual again. School sucks

Makima

Living with makima, you've gotten used to the morning routine you have. She always wakes up before you and prepares everything you need. She wakes you up with a kiss, and you do your morning routines together, helping each other get dressed, washing your faces, and putting each other's ties on. It's a really sweet and domestic moment that you love.

Doing this so many times, you started to notice something, whenever you woke up makima already had her hair done, even if she was still in the lingerie she wore to bed.

You weren't surprised. Her ponytail looked like it took a lot of time to get done, and she probably didn't want to "bother" you, but you still wanted to see her with her hair down, so one day you woke up by yourself, without needing her to kiss you.

You yawned and stretched, then made your way to the bathroom where you saw just what you wanted to see, your girlfriend in front of the mirror messing with her hair.

She noticed you behind her in the mirror but did nothing and waited for you to come near her, you did and hugged her tightly, still a bit groggy

"Good morning darling, why did you wake up early today?"

"Wanted to see you"

Makima giggled at your sleepy tone but turned around and hugged you back kissing you in the process

"Your hair looks beautiful like this"

"Does it? I think it looks unkempt"

"It's still beautiful"

"Thank you love"

She kissed you once more and pulled away from the hug, turned around again towards the mirror, and grabbed her hair tie

"Do you want me to help you?"

"Hm?"

"I can help you tie your hair if you want"

"That would be wonderful, my love, are you sure?"

"Of course, I'd love that"

Makima smiled brightly at you and handed you the hair tie. You took it and gently grabbed her hair and started to tie it up, trying to imitate the form you always saw it in.

"You're amazing, my darling, i don't know what I'd do without you"

"What do you mean? You do this alone every morning"

"No, I meant in general. You give me a reason to wake up and get ready every day"

"That's so sweet to hear, but you know you'll always look beautiful to me, no matter what"

"Thank you sweetie, but I still want to do this, you really didn't have to"

"But I wanted to"

"And that's what makes you so wonderful"

You finished tying her hair, and she looked at it. She thought it was even more beautiful than when she made it

"It looks amazing thank you so much"

"Don't worry about it, it's the least I could do"

She turned around one last time to kiss you, even more passionately this time. When she pulled back, her beautiful golden eyes looked back at you with so much love

"I don't think words can describe how much I love you"

"The same goes for me makima"

Power

"Get your hands off of me, filthy human"

"......power please calm down"

You and the rest of division 4 were supposed to attend a meeting with makima and some important members of the government, so your boss advised you to dress nicely, this was no problem for you and your other friends, but it kinda was for your girlfriend power.

She only accepted to take a bath when you joined her and even then didn't wash very well and she struggled a lot while you were helping her put her suit on.

"Ugh! This is so uncomfortable"

"I know, but you have to wear it"

"Said who?"

"Makima"

"...........ok"

She sat in front of you again as you put her tie on

"OK I'm done"

"Finally!"

She started to get up but you stopped her

"Wait, we're not finished, you have to tie your hair"

"What? Why?"

"I dunno, I guess it makes you look more....... civilzed"

"Are you saying I'm not civilized normally?"

"Listen, we need to make a good impression, or makima is gonna dock our pay. Just put this on, please,"

The blood fiend pouted and turned around dramatically

"Never! I refuse!"

"I'll give you cuddles when we get back"

"..........."

"With meowy"

Power turned towards you again, still pouting but with a blush on her face"

"Fine, you win"

"Thanks"

She grabbed the hair tie you were holding in your hands and looked at it for a while before trying to tie her hair.....unsuccessfully

"Do you.....need help?"

"O-of course not! How dare you say that!"

She proceeded to continue failing to tie her hair

".........can you help me?"

You giggled but quickly got up and went behind her, taking the hair tie and starting to tie her hair

"Have you ever tied your hair before?"

"Y-yeah but it's really hard doing it alone"

"Don't worry, I get it. You can ask me for help when you're struggling"

"R-really?"

"Of course, I'd love to"

"......thanks"

"It's no problem"

As you finished tying her hair you looked at it and smiled

"You look beautiful like this"

Hearing this power smugly grinned and turned around to look at you

"Of course, did you have any doubts the great power would look beautiful in any hair style?"

You laughed again and kissed her cheek, causing it to glow red

"No, I definitely didn't, now let's go, denji and aki are waiting for us"

Himeno

After waking up and doing everything you needed to, you were waiting for himeno to wake up as she usually slept late. You heard a big yawn coming from your bedroom and knew that she woke up so you waited patiently for her to come out of the bathr-

"AAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!"

You immediately sprinted towards the bathroom

"Himeno, what's wrong?"

"O-oh hiiiii y/n, n-nothings's wrong I just-"

"Why are you covering the left side of your head?"

"......whaaaaaat? No I'm not"

"Seriously hime, what's wrong you know you can tell me"

Himeno sighed and took her hand off of her hair

"OK, just don't laugh"

She turned around and you started staring at her hair, at first you saw nothing wrong but then

"Wait, is the left side of your hair completely cut off?"

"Yeah"

"How did that even happen?"

"I-i dunno I was drunk last night and-"

"You had scissors while you were drunk? You could have hurt yourself"

"I know.....sorry"

"It's fine, at least you're ok"

"Yeah, my hair isn't though, you think I'd look good with a hat?"

You both laughed softly at that, you put a hand on her head and started stroking her hair

"While I think you'd look good with anything, I don't think you need to put one on"

"Hm? Why? You got a solution?"

"Maybe, what if you cut the other side too so it's even, you have shot hair anyway so it'll grow back fast"

"I guess that could work, but to be honest, I don't really trust myself with scissors anymore, even sober me"

"I can help you"

"Really?"

"Yeah of course"

"Awww, thanks so much baby, you're the best"

"It's nothing just go sit somewhere, I'll grab the scissors"

Your girlfriend gave you a thumbs up and grabbed a chair to sit in while you took the scissors. You then stood behind her and started cutting her hair carefully

"This is just like being at an hairdresser"

"Don't exaggerate, I'm not a professional so it may come out ugly"

"Please, if you do it, then it possibly can't be ugly"

"You're giving me too much credit"

"Nah, it's you who's giving yourself too little credit"

"Well thanks"

"No problem"

After you finished cutting her hair, you told her so, and she went to the mirror to see how it looked. After she stared at herself for a few seconds, she smiled widely and went to hug and kiss you

"You're amazing y/n, this looks great"

"Oh please it's not-"

"Hey! Stop that. You're amazing, ok? That wasn't a question it was a statement, so don't try to argue with it"

"Hehe, alright thanks, I'll accept it"

Himeno smiled again and kissed you passionately

"Great, because I'll say it as many times as I need to"

Kobeni higashiyama

(The person who requested this actually sent me this picture saying it inspired them to request, I really appreciate that so thanks)

You put the keys in the door of your shared apartment and turned them, as soon as you opened it, kobeni weakly walked through the living room and let herself fall on the sofa heavily sighing in the pillow

"The mission was hard wasn't it?"

She got up and turned towards you, her expression softening a bit but still clearly irritated

"Yes, well, the mission itself was supposed to be easy, but power was insufferable. She kept being so loud and annoying and reckless-"

You quickly pulled her into a hug, which caused her to relax and nuzzle in your chest

"I know I know, don't worry I'll ask makima to pair us up together next time ok?"

"T-thanks"

"How about we just relax now, let's cuddle and watch a movie"

"Yes please, I'd like that"

You two smiled at each other, and you went to the kitchen to get the snacks ready while kobeni changed into something more comfortable. You came back after a while and brought the blankets with you, you saw kobeni with her pjs on

"You look good"

"E-Eh?"

"I'm just saying, you look cute when you're comfy, I like seeing you relaxed"

She blushed and looked away for a moment before smiling again at you again

"Thank you"

You smiled even brighter as you sat near her and you started watching the movie

"Why do you still have your hair tied?"

"Hm?"

"I thought you'd let your hair down, to help you get more comfy"

"I-i guess"

She raised her hands to her hair, but you grabbed them and held them in yours, kobeni started blushing but looked at you with confusion

"No, let me do it, I want to"

"W-what?"

Before she could protest, you started untying her hair and grabbed her hairpins, putting them on the table along with the hair tie

"There you go beni"

"O-oh thanks"

"It's nothing, I just want nothing more than to help you relax in any way possible"

"You're really the best I love you"

Your girlfriend started to relax more and laid her head on your shoulder. You smiled at this and started playing with her now free hair

"Your hair looks beautiful"

"U-uh? Oh, thanks, really"

"Every part of you is beautiful to me, especially right now. You're always so stressed and tired, I love seeing you like this"

Kobeni turned to look at you a bit surprised but quickly smiled as she felt her cheeks getting even hotter

"Thank you really, thank you so much, I cannot describe how much I love you"

"Me too beni"

Quanxi

"I'm taking a shower. Do you wanna join me?"

You looked up from your phone to see quanxi starting to take her blood-soaked suit off

"Oh no, thanks, I'm not really in the mood right now"

Quanxi nodded silently and continued to take her clothes off in front of you, something you had gotten used to as she had little to no trouble walking around the house in very little clothes

"Then can you wash the suit? The blood got in pretty deep"

"Yeah sure"

You got up and grabbed the clothes she threw on the ground, you started walking but were stopped by quanxi, putting a hand on your shoulder

"Wait"

She untied her hair and shook her head, making her white hair flow and fall behind her head, despite her being in nothing but her eyepatch, her hair was still the thing that caught your attention the most.

"You don't need to wash this, just give it to me when I'm done"

"OK"

She smiled at you and gave you a kiss on the forehead

"Thank you, sweetheart"

After you put her suit in the washing machine, you resumed doing what you were doing before while you listened to the water fall in the bathroom until the sound stopped, and you heard the door open.

"Love, can you give me the hair tie back?"

You looked up again and saw your beautiful girlfriend in a tank top and shorts and still with her hair down

"Oh yeah, here you go"

You got up again and handed her the hair. she rewarded you with another forehead kiss

"You look beautiful"

"Uhm?"

"Your hair, it genuinely looks beautiful like this"

"Oh, thanks, I guess I don't let them down often, so I'm glad you like it"

"Do you mind if I tie your hair?"

"Sure"

Her answering with such little hesitation confused you a bit, as did her handing you the hair tie and turning around as well as bending over a bit.

But you quickly did what you wanted to and tied her snow like hair, admiring how genuinely beautiful it looked

"You really like my hair, don't you?"

"Yeah, I love it, like every part of your body"

"I'm glad"

When you finished your job, quanxi turned around and suddenly kissed you passionately and wrapped one of her arms around you, sliding the other one under your shirt, feeling your stomach

"I love you so much, my sweet"

"I love you too"

Asa mitaka/yoru

Having two girlfriends in one body sometimes made it difficult to distinguish who was in control of the body in one specific moment, but you found a method to do it. If you can't see the face directly, because the scars and eyes would give it away pretty fast, you look at the hair, if it's a ponytail then it's probably asa and if they're down then it's probably yoru.

For some reason, one of the first things yoru does when she takes over is untying her hair and throwing the hair tie somewhere in the room making it hard for asa to find it later, one of this occasions resulted in you currently tying asa's hair

"Thanks for helping me"

"It's nothing, don't worry, you should probably get more hair ties though, how did this one end under your bed anyway?"

"I don't know ask yoru"

The girl said in a passive-aggressive tone, hoping to get the attention of the devil in her head who just ignored her

"I guess I could try to ask her to be more careful about it"

"Please do"

"Hehe, ok, I'm finished by the way"

"Thanks"

"You're welcome"

Asa stood up and turned towards you but was surprised to see your lips approaching hers, and before she could react, you kissed her. After a bit of confusion, she reciprocated your kiss that lasted for a bit before you pulled back

"So do you wanna eat something? I have some chips if you want"

"Yeah thanks"

You gave her a thumbs up and went to the cabinet, grabbed the bag of chips and two bowls and put it on the table, you looked back at asa only to see her......with her hair tied down

"......yoru? What are you doing here?"

"I took over"

"Yeah why?"

"I wanted to see you"

"*sighs* OK....but take the hair tie back"

"Eh? Why?"

"Cause then asa will have to spend hours searching for it"

"Fine, here"

She handed you the hair tie she surprisingly still had

"You didn't throw it away?"

"No....I heard what you said"

"Oh thanks"

Surprised by her thoughtfulness, you kissed her like you did with asa, which caused her to blush slightly but kiss back quickly, more aggressively than her host. She let the kiss go on for a few more seconds before she pulled back

"I'm gonna tie your hair now"

"Why? I like them better like this"

"Cause asa just tied them, I don't want her to have to do it again"

"It's always asa this and asa that, what about me? I like my hair like this"

"It's not your hair in the first place"

"..........ok that's fair"

"I'm glad you understand"

The war devil reluctantly turned around and let you tie her (asa's) hair again. After you finished, she turned back only to not have the scars and ringed eyes anymore

"Oh hey, welcome back asa"

"Thanks"

"I'm surprised yoru let you take over"

"She didn't, I think she's still yelling at me in my head"

"Oh, you're fighting over me?"

"We kinda have to when we share a body"

"Well, I'm flattered"

"Thanks for tying my hair again by the way, I know it can be annoying"

"Oh no not at all, I love it"

"I'm glad, I really love everything you do for me well for us"

Fami

A/n:So, since we're talking about hair and fami, I wanted to bring up something I've been thinking about for a while. What color is fami's hair actually? I always thought it was pink (maybe because i associate her with kirby) but in the volume cover she's in, you can't really see the color because the lighting is weird (or they're more purply) and in the fanart I've seen she's with either pink, purple or white/cream colored hair similar to quanxi. I guess we won't know for a while, but I'll still keep writing her as if she has pink hair. Also, sorry if this is shorter than the other ones, I didn't have that many ideas

"Fami can you......take off your hat for a while?"

You had been staring at the famine's devil hair for a while, something that she noticed but didn't seem to mind. You were confused by it and wanted to confirm something, which prompted you to ask the question

"Why?"

"I just wanna see your hair"

Fami shrugged and did as you told her, revealing her pink hair full of crumbs and stains

"What........happened?"

"What do you mean?"

"Your hair is dirty, like really dirty"

"Oh yeah, some food fell on me"

".......how?"

"I was trying to get it in the cabinet and it fell on me"

"......*sighs* I'll go get a hairbrush"

You went to the bathroom and took a hairbrush out of a cabinet, going back to the living room and standing behind fami while she was still eating, starting to brush her hair carefully

"What are you doing?"

"Trying to clean your hair"

"Oh........thanks"

"No problem, just tell me earlier next time"

"Ok, I just didn't want to bother you"

"You could never bother me. In fact, I love your hair, and I love brushing them"

"......thanks again"

"It's really nothing but geez, a lot fell on you, I think we'll have to wash it"

"I guess I don't mind if you join me"

"*sighs* sure if you want

[wandixx]

Ok it closes out on me when I tried typing it the first time-

Anyway, I'm a sucker for shock value ones, just so funny to me, so how about M'gann being nervous about introducing bf danny and it happens at an inconvenient time! Could go ghost royalty, ancient of space or anything, hell ghost as dragons would be pretty funny, up to you though!

I'm not sure if I did a good job at this, but I didn't want you to wait too long and real life is keepimg me busier than expected, so for now, it's here. I may continue it one day (I also have different version of fill for this prompt, because neither idea felt right, so if you'd like to see I too, just let me know whatever way is most convenient to you)

This wasn't supposed to happen like that. M'gann didn't have a super detailed plan on how it was supposed to happen, but even her vague (thought and rethought every night) ideas were anything but this. It was supposed to be a calm, low-stakes situation. Maybe even make it look like an accidental meeting, Team in civies hanging out around Happy Harbour, bumping into Danny and then she'd just introduced him, perhaps adding ‘btw, he is my boyfriend’ almost like an afterthought. This seemed like the best possible scenario.

This was also, as expected with the way hero life is, the exact opposite of what actually happened.

Of course, it didn’t start with anything heralding the absolute disaster this day had to become. Kinda accidentally the Team stumbled upon something between a cave and a basement, and in it a group of people, who decided to perform a summoning of a genie so they could… wish for stuff. They didn’t even look like cultists or villains of any sort, just a group of random adults from seemingly very different backgrounds. M’gann had a really hard time understanding what actually brought them together other than their wishes.

Which was actually pretty useful when it came to fighting them, because nobody really cared about their fellow summoner, just trying to save their own butt. She kinda wished more of their opponents were so incompetent.

Though, she spoke too soon because in the excitement of the fight, somehow all of them didn’t realize that one or two of the summoners… actually managed to finish a summoning. It was honestly a little bit embarrassing.

But, it was too late to dwell on all that, as right above the summoning circle appeared a circle in a worryingly familiar shade of green.

Of course, this one time she didn’t have any equipment from Danny, had to be when the Team encountered a ghost.

Ghost in question was a beautiful woman, with long hair covering one of her eyes, in a blue outfit that was related to one of Earth cultures, but M’gann didn’t know which, and a bunch of bracelets on her wrists. Martian could make a hazard guess on who it was, based on the stories Danny told her.

“We don’t have time for explanations, I think I know who this is, if I’m right for the love of everything that’s dear to you, don’t say the word ‘wish’ out loud” she demanded over the Mindlink.

Before she finished, Artemis took silver tape from somewhere and slapped a piece of it over Wally’s mouth. M’gann understood the sentiment but still… it was a little bit too nuclear option.

Desiree (if it was her) didn’t attack anyone, looking a bit confused, giving Team a moment of reprieve to plan and for Kid Flash to make sure none of the summoners could make whatever wish they wanted either. Also with the use of silver tape. Djinn’s were always tricky.

M'gann used this moment of everyone getting their bearings to curse herself for not bringing any ghost weapons this time. Any other mission, Team or not, she had something on her but today? Today she had nothing.

Excluding the summoning engraved into clips holding her cape but it was kinda last resort. It wouldn't annihilate everything in one mile radius or something but she didn't want to drag Danny there if he was during a test, other ghost fight or something. She knew better than anyone that he didn’t need more distractions.

Conner crashed into a wall right next to her. Artemis seemed to lose her cool when none of her arrows seemed to reach the ghost while Robin was trying to make some counter plans with Kaldur. They couldn't do a thing to Desiree and it was a matter of seconds before she stopped entertaining them and went to the city. It… would end badly, most likely. Danny would prefer to get involved before it got that far. Yeah…

She really wished she didn’t have to call.

“I have an idea, cover for me for a minute or two”

“Bold of you to assume we can stop her from anything”

“I believe in you Wally. Just distract her”

“My water attacks seem to be effective weapon against her”

“That’s aster! What do you plan to do, M'gann?”

“Summon another ghost”

She expertly ignored yelling that followed, taking the golden clip off of her cape. She held fabric in place with absentminded use of telekinesis, while she focused on an engraved pattern. Danny's summoning circle wasn't actually too complicated or intricate but she needed to do it just right. And frankly, she just liked looking at it. Physical proof that her boyfriend would be there if she needed it. Drawn representation of who he is, the deepest and truest parts of his soul written in the language that only Universe itself could fully understand.

And it was beautiful. Absolutely incredible. Much better than Desiree's circle, thank you very much.

M’gann dropped to her knees and grabbed leftover chalk from previous summoning and crouched to quickly draw Danny's seal. She had a lot of practice from all the times she doodled it on a whim just to get something of him with her when she missed him the most. She rarely actually summoned him, again, it was difficult to align their schedules, but she was very familiar with the first step.

And it was really easy from there.

She placed the clip in the middle of the circle, shapeshifted one of her nails to get a bit of blood on the chalk and leaned back.

After a careful, deep breath, she started an incantation, putting as much power in her voice as she could.

“I call upon you guard of Amity Park, I call upon you dearest child of the Ice, I call upon you one favored by the Time, I call upon you vanquisher of the Fear, I call upon you subduer of the King, I call upon you defender and the guide, I call upon Phantom, both worlds beloved child”

Circle erupted in green light, putting a momentary pause to the fight. M’gann was still blinking spots away when a figure flung itself out of the summoning circle, right at the Desiree.

“What the fuck?!”

Only after the first punch was thrown did Danny turn back to her, with his usual, somehow both gallant and bashful smile, that without fault made her knees get a little weaker. She smiled back.

“Hello Starlight” he greeted, sounding almost casual.

“Starlight?”

“Hi Angel. Nice of you to drop by” she answered in the same manner. Wally tried to yell from behind the duck tape.

“Angel?! M'gann, who is he? Who is she?!”

“I will always come if you call” he said without any doubt, suddenly as serious as if he was sharing information that could break or make the world.

It certainly worked like that to her world. She actually melted a little on the inside.

“I know”

“Actually, that's kinda cute. I still have no idea who this is, but you go girl”

“I feel like it's not the right time Artemis”

“Not to interrupt… whatever this is, but the other ghost is escaping” Robin cut in “Also, if you want to make out afterwards, please find the room, Batman and Catwoman are traumatizing enough“

Few people snorted, while Danny blushed green. He darted back at Desiree, clearly to escape the embarrassment. M’gann stood up, totally at ease now, that he was there to take care of it.

“Will you need a hand? I don't have any tech but we have a trick or two up our sleeves!” she asked, projecting her voice so it carried through the cavernous basement without yelling.

“I'm good for now but thanks for asking!”

“M’gann, can you give us anything substantial? Who is this? How do you know him?”

“One question at the time and let's wait until he finishes, okay?“

She cut off Mindlink before anyone agreed or protested.

“Miss Martian!”

“Soup time!”

With a blast of light, Desiree got sucked in and Danny landed in front of them with a proud grin.

“My job here is done”

“It truly is. You're getting faster too”

“And thanks to who is that?”

“You”

Danny sent her both an incredulous and playful glare.

“Of course. I miraculously found a ways to not be a mess and don't crash through every wall on my way and–”

“Well, no but–”

“Let me remind you, you're not alone… also who are you dude? And where did the other lady go?” Wally asked, right after ripping the duct tape off his mouth.

“Oh, well, I'm Phantom, I usually work in Amity Park?” he said a bit unsure, as if calling him a protector was under any question. That just wouldn't do.

“He's a hero from Amity Park”

“Thanks love. It's nice to finally meet you all. M talked a lot about you!”

“Can't say same about you, sorry”

“That's fine. I know M was agonizing over how to introduce me in the best way possible. I'm really happy it's finally over,” he paused for a moment, with his brows furrowed “Did I do good? This first impression thing?”

“You're… far less imposing that I personally expected after hearing Miss Martian summoning you, but–”

“M’gann how could you hide this from us?” Conner blurted out quietly, and oh, he sounded so utterly crushed. Everyone fell silent, the playful atmosphere gone as if it had evaporated.

“I never intentionally hid it. It wasn't significant enough to mention at the start and when it became important I felt like I couldn't just drop it at you during lunch or something. I always planned to tell you, there was just never the right time nor right words. I never wanted to hide it.”

“Even just me?”

“Especially you”

“You still should've…”

“Yeah, I should. I'm sorry”

“How long ago have you met?”

“Half a year ago,” Danny said before she managed to answer “It's all kinda my fault actually. I was really set on not getting mixed up with more hero business than I had to back then. I didn't want you or Justice League finding out about me. And when I agreed, it was already really late. I'm sure she'd told you all from the get go if I let her, I'm sorry”

“Why wouldn't you want us to know about you?”

“It's… Probably not the conversation we should have right here, over gagged wannabe cultists.”

“Valid. Let's call the cops and get going. You two have much to explain”

“And you're sitting eight feet apart until you do!”

Danny leaned in to kiss her, quick and playful, before he jumped back at the demanded distance.

“Well, this still went better than at your side”

“Absolutely”

*******

Also, here is some lil arts for a longish wait, sorry again, I hope this story is yours to your expectations

[toranoya]

Hawks grinned as he finished adjusting his jacket, giving Kari a thumbs-up. “I think that sounds pretty awesome, ‘The Adaptable Hero, Demonic.’ I’m sure you’ll come up with even more ideas as you go, but honestly? You’ve already got a solid vision. And don’t worry about it sounding plain—it’s all about how you make it yours, and you've definitely got that covered.”

He picked up his aviators, sliding them on with a smirk. “Now, little miss impatient—yes, I'm finally ready. I have to look at least as pretty as you do. I’m still curious if you have any guesses about this surprise,” he teased, taking her hand as he led the way out onto the balcony. “C’mon, guess! I’m dying to see if you’re onto this old bird.”

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Four sighed, taking a sip of his beer as he looked at the embers glowing and crackling in Time’s fire pit. “I hate seeing people in pain and not being able to do anything about it.”

Sky glanced at his friend, wondering where that statement came from. Nobody said anything for a moment, and then Legend piped up.

“Yet you chose to work in a surgical-trauma ICU where everyone is in pain all the time,” he quipped with a little playful smirk to take the edge of the sarcasm.

Warriors snickered, leaning back in his chair, beer bottle held lazily between his fingers. Sky almost laughed at the sight of it, recalling that he and Hyrule had been refilling the bottle with water after their friend’s first drink. The army nurse hadn’t commented on the matter.

“Oh shut up,” Four laughed as well. “I know I set myself up for this. But I… I wanted to help. And I wanted to do nursing that made me feel like I was thinking through puzzles and able to focus on as few patients as possible so I could really get into taking care of things. And I like the thrill of it. But…”

He trailed off a moment, looking around at the group relaxing by the fire pit. Twilight paused briefly in the act of throwing another log on the fire, glancing at Four, before finishing the action, sending sparks showering into the air briefly. Time and Malon watched Four quietly, bundled together under a plaid blanket, Malon’s head on Time’s shoulder. Warriors perked up from his slumped position, head tilting towards the ICU nurse while Legend’s playful smile faded. Wild and Wind paused from eating their s’mores to give Four their attention while Hyrule sat up from where he’d been laying in a burrito of blankets on the grass.

Sky watched Four try to ask what he wanted, and as much as he wanted to prompt his friend he knew to wait.

“Does it ever get better?” Four finally asked. “The compassion fatigue. I’ve only been in nursing a short while and I can already feel it. Am… am I done?”

Sky bit his tongue, remembering when he’d asked Legend a similar question. But Sky had been through a war and had been flying sick, injured, and dying patients for years now. Four was still a fairly new nurse, wasn’t he?

He supposed it didn’t matter. Everyone’s exposure and experience was different. Four very clearly was uneasy about this.

Warriors spoke up first, sitting up. “It comes and goes, buddy.”

“Sometimes you just have to stop and remember they’re people,” Legend added. “We… you know, when everyone’s worst day is your workday you have to shut it off. It’s not…”

“We have to protect ourselves,” Sky picked up for his dear friend. “We suffer when they suffer. But if you let it get to you then you can’t focus on helping them. You’re not a bad person for doing that. For…”

Well. Were they bad people for feeling nothing when their patients were in pain?

Honestly, Sky knew there wasn’t a single person in this group who felt absolutely nothing. They just redirected what they felt into something else. Dark jokes to make a bad situation funny, frustration to turn strong emotions into rambling with coworkers… they all felt it somehow.

But it did make it hard to remember who they were taking care of sometimes.

Sky was grateful he just flew his helicopter. He wasn’t sure he could tolerate much more exposure than that, honestly.

“I don’t know if it ever gets better,” Warriors finally said. “It’s kind of just something you learn to live with.”

“I’ve seen nurses who have all the compassion in the world,” Twilight noted. “But I also have no idea how they do it, honestly.”

“Oh, you mean like you, Mr Biggest Bleeding Heart in the Room?” Legend remarked. “I bet you’re everyone’s favorite CNA over there. I don’t know how the hell you deal with sick kids day in and out.”

“It’s a lot easier when you’re the tech walking in and out of the room instead of the nurse responsible for that kid’s life,” Twilight argued mildly. “I mean, I do get attached and I want to take care of all of them, but I’m also so spread out it makes encounters shorter. So like… I don’t know, not as much burnout I guess. Except for the chronic kids.”

“Well, techs make a hell of a difference,” Four noted. “I’d be so screwed without you guys.”

“Back to the point,” Twilight frowned, waving a dismissive hand. “I’m sure even the kindest nurses have moments when they just can’t let themselves get hurt anymore. You’re not a jerk for being worn out from constantly watching people suffer.”

“What’s important, love, is getting out and having moments like this,” Malon piped up. “You boys all tend to self isolate when you’re not working, and all that does is make work your entire life. Take time for yourself but go out in the world too. We’re all here for each other. That’s why we had this tonight.”

Four sighed a little, glancing down at the fire. Sky elbowed him teasingly, smiling. “Hey. You can’t be any worse than Legend.”

The travel nurse perked up, face flushing and eyes wide with irritation as Warriors wheezed. “HEY!”

Everyone started to laugh while Legend rolled his eyes and threw his hands in the air. But Sky knew it was just theatrics; after all, he and Legend had talked about this very thing a few weeks ago.

Healthcare broke people. They all knew that. But a little crack here and there could be supported, one person holding the other up. Sky wasn’t sure how long any of them could last in any one area, but he knew they’d try to make it work.